I was sure Gabe was going to dump me after that God awful dinner with Blaine, but he hasn't. Not officially, I guess. We haven't spoken that much since that dinner three nights ago. I haven't spoken to Blaine either.

I'm mad at him. I had told him specifically to hold his tongue, but he refused. He went ahead and completely made my boyfriend feel uncomfortable. Honesty, I wouldn't be surprise if Gabe dumped me. I am sure I'll get over it and rekindle with my best friend, but for now I want him to suffer. He hasn't tried calling me either though, which is weird.

The only times Gabe and I have spoken since then was during classes when I asked him a question and he answered very generally. He called me last night to tell me that he couldn't meet me because he was busy with work, but despite that he sounded very brief.

"Alright guys. You have a little over a week left with this course lecture. There will be a huge test at the end of this course and if you flunk it, you'll be on Miss Tibideaux's chopping block. You'll might have to retake this course, or you'll be cut entirely if Carmen thinks you're not worth it. So, study up. You're dismissed."

All the students stood up from their seats and began the loud murmurs of worries that they might flunk. I'm not that worried for the test. One of the perks of dating the teacher is, no I do not sleep for grades, but he slips in lesson facts in bed, over dinner- so basically, I have a 24 hour lesson, which is great. I'm actually top in class now since that first test.

I wait in my seat for everyone to disperse because I want to talk to Mister Parker- my teacher- Gabe- my boyfriend. He has so many titles in my head, not to mention Mister God Sent Body With Gorgeous Sapphire Eyes.

"Mister Parker?" I take a formal approach as I descend from the stadium style seats to the podium up front.

"Yes?" Gabe turns and catches me. He smiles and my knees go weak. "Mister Parker? Though it turns me on when you say that, I do actually prefer you calling me Gabe."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm not sure of our relationship now. Are we teacher-student, or dating?"

He frowns and stalks forward. His shirt is tight under his blazer. He looks so good with the slight stubble on his chin and neck, his hair swept back. "Why?" he cocks his head.

"Well-" I can't breathe when he's right in front of me, and when we're in an empty lecture hall. "-because we've barely spoken for the last couple of days and I thought you would run for Mexico after how Blaine treated you-"

"Why Mexico?" he has a smirk on his face. I love that smirk.

"Tacos, I guess."

"Do you like tacos?"

"Who doesn't like tacos," I shrug.

"Would you run away from tacos if you had one bad taco?"

"No, because tacos are usually good."

"Would you run away if refried beans were bad to you but the tacos were fine?"

"No," I say.

"So, should I have broken up with God amazing tacos just because it's side dish refried beans were bad and not tasty?"

"I guess not."

"Good, because I like my taco."

"I'm craving for tacos now."

He smiles and before I can react, he tugs me forward by my waist and kisses me deeply, passionately, earnest and I lose my will to think, to speak, to anything basically.

"You like me again?" I ask when he parts from me slightly to look at me.

"More than like," he breathes and I think I'm on cloud nine.

His lips meet mine again and he kisses me. His hand travels down my spine, tantalizingly skimming down my skin tight shirt until it comes to my butt. He grasp the tight material hiding my cheeks and I gasp.

"This ass- is phenomenal," he whispers breathlessly into my mouth.

"We're in a classroom-"

"Does that bother you?" he says, his fingers still skimming down my back. "Because it sure as hell doesn't bother me."

"Nope-"

"Good," he takes me and pushes me down and I am lying on my back, on his hard wooden desk. He looms before me, the lights casting a perfect cast over his perfect frame. I take a mental picture of his sight- like what I usually do when I'm around him.

He undos his blazer and drops it to the floor. The buttons of his shirt slowly comes off one by aggravating one, exposing each modicum of flesh. I feel myself growing hard as he slowly reaches to his last button and he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders.

His physique still makes my erection twitch. Those lines of perfect abs, that chest. He looks incredible- like a super hero, come to save me from carnal hunger. I want him so bad and I can feel my inner conscience yearning for him.

He pulls my zipper down and his fingers slip inside. I feel him grab onto my member and he pulls it out of the teeth of the zipper. With one salacious smirk, he lowers down and puts me deep in his mouth.

I basically forget gravity.

His tongue so professionally circulates me as he takes me deeper into the back of his throat. His mouth is warm- so ungodly, and sensually warm. I moan so quietly at the amazing sensation that consumes me. I forget all my worries as he tighten his lips and slowly, frustratingly, pulls out. My fingers claws his desk. The feeling is amazing- so amazing. It feels numb, it feels torturous, it feels like heaven.

He pushes forward again, taking me into the back of his throat. I feel the head of my erection pressed against the warm, moist inner skin. I feel myself building now. My stomach is warm, burning, like fire in a cold, cold abyss.

How he is taking his time makes it all the more erotic. I lose myself in complete pleasure.

"Gabe- I'm going to-"

I try to push him back by his shoulders but he refuses to budge. I am close. So very close. I cannot hold it any longer. I cannot bear his torture and soon I release myself, long, liberated release into his mouth. He continues his motion as I let go.

"Gabe-" I moan his name.

With one slow, long pull, his warmth is gone. I catch my breath as he climbs over me and hovers over my face. His eyes like green emeralds. "I'm sorry I've been distant."

"Was that your make-up?"

"If it made you less mad, lets say yes."

"I never had a reason to be mad."

"Technically," he says. His thumb stroking my cheek. "But I'm sorry anyway."

"I'm sorry," I counter him. "On behalf of Blaine, on putting you in that uncomfortable, interrogative position. For everything basically. Blaine had no right."

"It's okay," Gabe says.

"It's not. Blaine was being incredibly rude to you."

"Yes, he was. But he was just being your bestfriend, Kurt. It's fine, really."

Gabe looks skeptical at his own statement, and though he looks convincing, I'm not convinced that he finds it okay. I want to pursue the matter, but I predict a bigger fight if I do.

"I guess you're right, though he was a prick," I say, wanting to suffice the matter. Gabe smiles, but it is a half smile.

I haven't forgotten his background check Blaine showed me. His time in rehab is still fresh in my mind, but I don't want to be like Blaine and interrogate him. I want him to come forward and tell me himself- only then will I know he trust me. I also want to hold my tongue at how I told Blaine that I think I'm in love with Gabe. His confession about rehab won't change how I feel about him, that I can hope for, but it's also because when he tells me, I know he loves me enough to trust me. I have to wait, and I will.

"Lets talk less about Blaine, okay? I haven't see you in three days, and I kinda sort of miss you."

"I've missed you too."

"Do you have classes after this?" Gabe ask.

"Nope," I tell.

"Good, because I was thinking that we could go back to your place and get naked and stay in bed all the way till tomorrow morning."

I blush, suppressing a giggle. "Sounds perfect."

"Good, and I hope you're still holding on to your promise."

"What promise?" I look at him, confused.

"That Blaine won't come between us."

I am a little stunned by his statement. I know it holds something profound. Something deeper, but I don't want to think about that now.

"I still hold on to that."

"Good," he smiles as he lowers down and catches my lips.

-------

"Do we even know what time it is?" Gabe ask as he rolls on top of me.

"I'm guessing noon."

"How long have we been in bed?"

"Well, we came here yesterday at noon, so I'm guessing about an entire day."

"An entire day? Damn, that's a record. I've lost count of how many times I fucked you."

"I've lost count after the tenth. We only got up for food."

"Well, food is important," Gabe says.

I am in complete bliss. I'm guessing this is what people do during honeymoons. They just lay in bed, fuck and eat. I've completely lost track of time. It feels like another universe here with Gabe, in my apartment. We've completely dropped out from reality and it feels heavenly.

"Do you think we should turn our phones on now?" Gabe ask.

"No," I pout. "I'm fine having you as my only source of entertainment."

"And entertaining it has been," Gabe says as he plants a kiss on me. "But we really should check our phones."

"Fine," I sigh. "But if there is nothing urgent, you give me whatever I desire."

"Whatever you desire, you shall get my man."

He takes our phones from the night stand and hands me mine. The springs squeak as he moves next to me. We hold our phones in our hands and await to turn it on in sync.

"On three?" Gabe says.

"Count it," I say.

"One.....two.....three."

I hold on the power button of my phone and it comes to life. Immediately there are a ton of messages flooding in. I catch a quick glimpse as it keeps changing to different names. There is one from my dad, his usual check up I bet. One from Vogue Magazine. I opted to get latest feeds for the new copies each month. I check my missed calls and there are about twenty from the same number- Clara. Blaine's assistant.

"Oh my god my emails," Gabe says. "I have to make a call. Give me a sec, babe," he stands up and leaves for the main room outside.

I contemplate, staring at Clara's office number. I wonder what it could possibly be pertaining. If Blaine had something urgent, he would've called me himself. He wouldn't have let a stupid argument keep us apart this long- right?

There are two missed calls from Cooper, and I know something is amiss.

I quickly click on Clara's number, a quick look at the digital watch tells me it's 5PM. Wow, how long was I away from the world?

A few rings go by and the phone is answered.

"Hello?" Clara sounds on edge.

"Clara? It's me, Kurt. You called me-"

"Oh my god, thank god you called me back. Kurt, where are you? Are you with Blaine?"

"No, I haven't seen Blaine for like days. I've been busy. Why? What's wrong?"

"Well, he's practically M.I.A! AWOL! Missing! All of that shit! He hasn't come to the office for like three days! Marcus has been going to his building each morning to pick him up but he never shows. Glanda can't enter the apartment because he changed his security key! I don't know where he is and he's missing his work and he has a lot of things to deal with and-"

"Clara! Calm down! What happened the last time you saw him?"

"Last I saw him, he looked pretty glum. Kurt, do you think you could go to his apartment and check if he's there?"

"But you said he changed his key?"

"He did, but I don't know, maybe if he knows it's you outside he'll open up or something. Please, Kurt! I'm honestly having fears that he might be in there dead or something!"

My heart sinks. I feel my stomach compress at the simple vision of Blaine, hanging from his second storey railing. The mental scene makes me sick and cold and I cannot accept that if that happens.

"Okay, I'll go. Have you tried calling his cell?"

"Well duh! Don't you think that would've been my first thought?" Clara says heatedly.

"God, okay relax I'll go over there and let you know soon."

"Okay thanks," she says very briefly before the line goes dead.

My fingers are shaking as I press on Blaine's contact but it goes to voicemail immediately. Something is definitely wrong. Blaine is always on his BlackBerry. He picks up phone calls as fast as Santana picks out gay people. I know my bestfriend, and if he's not picking up his phone, he definitely is in some form of trouble.

I jump out of bed and quickly pull on a simple outfit. When I emerge out of the room, Gabe catches sight of me and frowns. "Where are you going?" he ask, disappointment in his tone.

"It's Blaine. Something's wrong. His assistant says he hasn't been to work for three days and nobody has seen him. I have to go over to his apartment to check on him," I ramble through. My nerves at it's peak.

Please, some higher power up above, don't harm my bestfriend.

"Do you want me to come?" Gabe ask.

"No, it's okay. I'll be quick."

"No, take as much time as you need. I'll just wait for you here and answer some emails with my computer."

"Okay," I lean forward and kiss him awkwardly.

"Call me if something really is wrong, okay?"

"I will."

I am out of my building in minutes. I practically jumped all the steps. I feel my insides all jittery and nervous. Where is Blaine? What happened to him? My head feels like it's about to explode at my fear. I hail a cab and got one immediately.

As it takes me to Haven, I'm hoping it really is Blaine's Haven- and not a place where I would find his body hanging from the ceiling, or lying dead cold on the floor.

----------

Mr Thompson smiles at me as I enter the building's lobby. "Hey Kurt," he says pleasantly. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"I've been really busy to stop by," I say quickly, trying to stable my nerves. "Is Blaine up there?"

"No idea. I haven't seen him come down for days, but I've seen a couple of guys go up. A few neighbors have complained about loud music from his apartment."

I feel a tinge better knowing there is at least some activity going on upstairs. Though I cannot piece anything together. I fear for his life.

"Great, I'm going up," I say as I dash into the elevator. It takes me up to the penthouse suite but the elevator door won't open unless I punch the right key. It's too high tech here I cannot comprehend.

I try Blaine's birthday, but it writes Access Denied. I try his SAT score, it still showed the same. I am at a lost. I hope he's just behind there.

"Blaine!" I bang on the elevator doors but there is no sound behind it, only soft thumpa music.

I try a bunch of other numbers- the date he graduated from MIT, his mother's birthday, his father's, I even tried Cooper which I knew was a long shot. I am about to give up, but then I randomly tried my birthday.

270594

It writes Access Granted and the doors slide open.

I waste no time. I enter the apartment, but I stand grounded on my feet as I study what was once a high class, lavish, expensive and clean apartment. Now it looks like a pot head college student's dorm room.

The music is loud, and I have no idea what it is. It smells of hard liquor and cigarettes and marijuana. The white huge couch is covered with clothes- and none of them is Blaine's expensive clothes. The coffee table has a bunch of alcohol bottles- Vodka, Tequila-beer cans, ashtrays. Basically what you would find at a drug dealer's home.

I hear a loud groan at the second level and I dash up. The music is so loud it practically vibrates the entire house. The stairs leading up are covered with clothing as well. Underwear, empty packs of cigarettes. I run up and head into Blaine's room but I stand, stunned at the sight I walked into.

There are three people in Blaine's bed. All butt nude, including Blaine himself. There is a black man, who probably is in his early twenties. He's fit. He is bent down, his knees and hands pressing into the mattress. In front of him, a slightly older white man-, in his late twenties with blond hair. He looks in an oblivion as the black man sucks him off.

Behind the black man though, is Blaine, thrusting in and out of the ass he has in front of him.

I am stunned by this sight. Slightly relieved he's alive, but I don't understand why he dropped from the face of the universe just to be in bed with a couple of goonies like these.

"Blaine?" I say. It catches his attention. He is sweaty, and he's eyes are vacant. He smiles when he sees me. I know that look. He's drunk. Really drunk. Drunk to the point of oblivion.

Not the kind of drunk he would get in order to get through a family dinner party. This is his trying-to-forget-something-painful drunk. Something must have happened before this, otherwise he would not have drank this much.

"Kkkkurt!" he says. He pulls out of the black man and shakily stumbles towards me. "I've missed you," he says. He trips on something and falls forward, but I manage to catch him by his underarms.

He smells of cigarettes. The smell is god awful. He is sweaty, and when he is, his dark curls will stick to his forehead. His brown eyes is vacant and I deseparately want to know why. The last time he got this drunk was when his parents forgot his birthday and he didn't want to be reminded of that so he lost himself in alcohol.

I wonder what was it he didn't want to be reminded of this time.

"I want you to meet my friends," he says. He throws his arm over my shoulder for support and points to the black man. "That is mister good fuck-" he says. "And that is mister long dick." he says, pointing to he white man.

"Does he wanna join us?" the white man says. He looks at me salaciously and I force a vomit down my throat.

"Do you, Kurt?" Blaine ask.

"Not in a million years, but the two of you need to get out. Now."

"Awe come on! Don't ruin my fun-"

"Blaine," I warn him.

He pouts like a child, pleading at me. God, he is so far gone. He's really drunk now and I'm worried. What happened?

"Leave!" I yell at the two man. "Or I'll call the cops. The smell of marijuana is enough to keep you both locked up for at least two years. Three of you, actually," I glare at Blaine who has his eyes in squints and is laughing.

The two of them scramble to their feet and grab their clothes. "Call us whenever, sexy," the black one says. He gives an air kiss at Blaine before they leave his bedroom.

Blaine is still giggling on the ground now. "They were so worth my money," he says.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" I ask, crouching in front of him.

"You're really pretty Kurt," he says.

He gets like this sometimes when he's really drunk. Like a child. Unable to form coherent sentences, his eyes in slits, his mouth hanging open with a wide grin. He's all sweaty, not to mention really naked.

"You're taking a bath," I say. I walk into the bathroom and turn the faucet on and wait for the tub to fill. I throw some lavender bath soap and wait for it to bubble up.

"Blaine?" I call when I re-enter the bedroom. He is lying on the ground, naked with a cigarette in his mouth. "Bath, now," I tell him and pull the cigarette out, extinguishing it at the ashtray.

"Hey!" he yells in protest.

I help him to his feet and practically carry him into the bathroom. He stumbles on the wet floor and slowly eases into the bathtub until he is submerged. He's still grinning, lost in the galaxy that happens when he's drunk.

"I like this smell," he says in slurs. "Smell of happiness."

"I know," I say, because he really does love lavender. "What happened, Blaine?" I ask, damping a cloth and wiping it across his face.

Blaine is laughing. God can only explain his behavior when he's drunk. Everything is like a circus to him. I continue to wipe his face with the warm cloth, hoping he might come back to me.

"You hate me," he says, and those vacant eyes turn to me.

"I don't hate you. I never can hate you."

"Dad hates me," he mumbles.

"Why does he hate you?"

"Fag," he mumbles again and his face turns sour.

I know I will never get anything out of him like this, so I decide to wait until he's sober the next morning. Maybe then I'll ask him. I help him out of the calming bath, wrap a towel around his waist and slowly carry him back into his room. He lies on his bed, eyes closed, a smile on his face as I help him into a fresh pair of boxers.

"Get under," I tell him as I pull his quilt up. He crawls under and I pull it over his body. "Sleep, okay?

"Where are you going?" he pouts. "Don't leave me," he pleads in that tone that disarms me.

I debate inside my head. I should stay here, make sure he's okay. Make sure he doesn't get his hands on another bottle, or his phone to call in more male hookers- most importantly, to find out the root of what happened. Then again, Gabe is waiting for me at home and a part of me knows he won't be too pleased if I told him I would be sleeping over at Blaine's.

But my bestfriend needs me, and when he needs me, I'm willing to drop my world for him.

I climb next to him as he shuffles around to face me. His face is inches from mine. He smelled of lavender than the pungent smell of cigarettes. His hair is damp, and his eyes are still vacant. What could have possibly happened. Something with his dad, he mentioned.

"I miss you," he mumbles.

"I know."

"You hate me."

"I've never hated you, nor will I ever," I say to his worrying mind. It's true. I can never hate Blaine. He's my bestfriend. We've gone through heaven and hell together. I will never hate me, not will I get stay really mad at him. "Get some rest," I tell him.

He looks at me then, with those full brown eyes. Hazel, honey coated orbs that are warm, and innocent despite the person. He's still vacant, but deep down I see my best friend.

He leans forward then, and his lips touches mine.

I gasp.

I cannot comprehend what is happening, but Blaine's lips are on me. They're moving, gently, softly. I lose my thoughts and all I am aware of is that I'm returning his kiss. I should pull away, I should part. Every muscle in my body is screaming at me, telling me to stop, telling me this is wrong, but I can't bring myself to it. It feels- good.

His lips are soft, carefree, warm. He taste of indifference. I've never felt this kiss before. Nothing like how Gabe and I would kiss. This feels, for lack of better word, amazing.

My eyes are close and I almost lose myself in his kiss, that is until Blaine pulls away and he smiles. His eyes are hazel brown, and burning at me.

"I love you Kurt," he yawns and falls into slumber.

Leaving me stunned.

-------

I awake with the beautiful scenery of New York from an eagle's viewpoint.

One of the many perks of Blaine's apartment is that you see everything from up here.

I turn, and I see my bestfriend fast asleep next to me. Snoring slightly, his back heaving and weaving in secondary gaps. The events of last night is still swirling in my mind.

Blaine kissed me.

He has never done that before. We, rather. We have never kissed in our whole lifetime. Not once. We've flirted with each other countless of times, sure, but we've never actually kissed or do anything in thy sexual nature. I don't know what happened, and I don't know if I should pursue it further.

I decide that a good shower might actually make me think straight at least. The stench if drugs and cigarettes and fags are still stained in the bed room I practically have to hold my breath until I arrive at the sanctuary that is the bathroom.

The water feels warm and it slithers down my body.

A few things I am sure of- Blaine kissed me. There is a probable chance that he might remember it. I have a boyfriend, but I kissed another guy. But does it count if the guy you kissed was your best friend? I don't know if that stands with Gabe. Will he dump me if I told him? Given all the trouble Blaine had caused at that dinner, I don't think he would appreciate that Blaine kissed me, his boyfriend. Then again we're both guilty partners of this crime of passion, right? I am so confused.

How did my life go from being the relatively unnoticed Amanda Bynes, to the front mess of a star she is right now.

Blaine is still fast asleep when I enter his bedroom. I slip back into my clothes and wait for him to wake up. I check my phone and I basically bit off my lower lip. I have ten missed calls from Gabe. Oh god, he's going to be mad. How many nonsense can he tolerate from the Kurt and Blaine duo?

I call him back and he answers within rings.

"Kurt? Are you okay? Where are you?" he says in a panic.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't call you, it's just Blaine was really drunk last night and I had to get him into bed. I stayed over to make sure everything was okay. Something definitely happened with him. I'm sorry," I say apologetically.

There is a pause on his end, before he sighs and responds. "It's fine. I'm glad you're okay," he says, and it sounds clipped. As if he was about to ask further questions.

"Where are you?" I ask.

"At your apartment. I slept here. I hope you didn't mind. I was waiting for you afterall," he says and a wave of guilt washes over me.

"I'm sorry," I say earnestly.

"It's okay. I'll see you at class?"

"Yeah. See you. I love you," I say before I can stop myself. My eyes go wide at my own slur and I wait aggravatingly for what felt like eons before he replies.

"I love you too," he says, and the line is dead.

What was that? How did I go from contemplating to tell my boyfriend I kissed another man, to telling him I love him? That is just not me. What has gotten into me?

Was it my inner guilty conscience who said it to overwrite kissing Blaine, or did I really intended to say it? I had told myself to wait, wait until I know he trust me. Wait until I could trust him too. But now look at what happened. I just blurted it out, no thoughts on the possible repercussions.

Maybe the smell of marijuana has gotten me high.

I stand and run down to the kitchen, fill a glass of ice cold water, dash back up and stand before him. Childish as it may sound, this will be for worrying me and confusing me.

I empty the contents all over his naked back and he jolts awake.

"Good morning sunshine," I say sarcastically and he glares at me.

"Kurt? What are you doing here? Ow- my head," he groans, covering his face with his palms.

"I'm here because your assistant called me and told me you haven't been to work for three days. Everyone's even worried sick about you-"

"Including you?"

"Of course including me, you jackass," I smack his head and he yelps.

"Stop! I have a huge hangover-"

"Oh I know. From your night of boozing and fucking hookers? What the hell happened?"

"Nothing, alright? Just go run off to your boyfriend or something-"

"I am here because I'm your bestfriend and I care about you, you asshole," I smack his head again and he yelps.

"Oh, I thought you stopped caring since I hurt your little beau-"

"Screw you, okay? Tell me what happened and stop putting it off. Now."

He sighs and lays back in bed. He covers his face with his quilt and sighs again. "Just leave me alone okay," he mumbles.

Something God awful must have happened. He would never push me away this much. He usually opens up to me, and tells me. Only me- no one else. I resign and take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Blaine," I sigh. "Your my bestfriend and you mean the world to me. No matter how many arguments we have, or not matter if you're rude to my boyfriend, I'm still going to care for you. So tell me, what happened because you're making me desperate and I thought you were dead yesterday because no one has seen you. So please tell me," I plead.

His eyes surfaces from the top of the quilt and he looks at me cautiously, like a kid afraid of the dark. "Climb in here and I'll tell you? The light's giving me a headache."

"You're such a diva," I say, but I crawl under his quilt with him anyway. It's warm under here. Blaine is sighing constantly. "Tell me," I say.

"Cooper cheated on Denise- with a fifteen year old girl."

My jaw literally dropped. "What?" I say. "Okay, you know what that doesn't really surprise me. I mean, I'm shocked he cheated on her considering they have a daughter now, but you remember how Cooper once slept with Quinn in our senior year."

"Oh god I totally forgot about that. Now it makes me even more sick," Blaine says.

"Is he being sued? He's like thirty. That's rape."

"The father did want to sue him, but my dad bought his silence."

"What?" I frown. "Why?"

"Because- because he didn't want Cooper's name to be tarnished or whatever, and also he wanted Cooper in the family business."

"That's why he hired Cooper? To protect him?"

"No, there's more," Blaine says. He sighs again and I wrap an arm over his chest for comfort, because I know he needs it.

"It's okay, I'm here," I say, hoping it gives him a semblance of assurance.

"My dad wanted Cooper to come work at the business- because he has terminal cancer. And when he goes, he wants Cooper to run the company."

"Oh my god," I say in utter shock. Mr Anderson has terminal cancer? That is hard to believe considering he looks healthy to me. "That's really heavy."

"Yeah, but here's the best part though. He says he wants Cooper to run it because he doesn't want his gay son to run it."

"What?" I say in complete disbelief at his audacity? How dare he. "You know the company better than Cooper! Heck, better than your dad even! What the fuck-"

"I understand where he's coming from though, on some level. Cooper is his first son. It's natural it goes to him-"

"Yeah but that's bullshit! Even so, you've been working there way longer than Cooper! Not to mention you're more qualified! I don't-"

"I can't go to him and tell him it should be me, Kurt. It's his wish- a dying man's wish. How can you go against that? He's my dad afterall. I have to respect his decision if he thinks surrendering his life work to Cooper is more reliable."

"Blaine that's totally unfair and you shouldn't just sit around and let him do that-"

"Kurt, he's my dad. He's dying."

Even though I find Mr Anderson's decision a complete injustice, I understand Blaine. It's his father, he's dying father. He knows that even though he should be the rightful heir to the throne, the more selfless thing to do is to let his dad decide on his own- no matter how unfair the outcome would be.

"So what are you going to do?" I ask Blaine, who is just lying there, the quilt looming darkness around us.

"Nothing, basically. He hasn't told me about his cancer yet, so I'll just have to wait until he's ready."

"I'm sorry, Blaine. About your father and everything."

"It's fine-"

"It's not. I'm sorry if I haven't been there for you."

"Cause you have Gabester now," he smirks. "How's he been?"

"Okay. He's been okay."

"Has he told you about rehab?"

"Please don't start this again," I say exasperatedly. "I already told you I want to wait until he's ready to tell me. Like how you want your dad to be ready to tell you he has cancer? Yes, that's how it is."

"Alright relax!" Blaine says. "It's just a question. I'm glad we're talking again."

"Me too," I say. "But question- why did you put the security code as my birthday?"

"I don't know? I guess I wanted you to be the one to come and check on me or something."

"Awe," I say. "So what are you going to do about this debacle?"

"I don't know, Kurt. Nothing, I guess."

"Cooper is such an ass."

"I don't know if he pertains much to my problem besides his pedophile ways, but yeah, he's an ass."

"I hope you figure this out soon. I hate seeing you all sad, oh and by the way-" I smack his chest hard and he yelps. "That's for making me and all the other people who care for you think you were dead. Clara's going to chop your nuts off."

"I'll fire her if she does."

"Okay, well get dressed. You've had enough days of drowning in booze and ass. Get dressed for work. Now. I'm late for class, by the way."

"Alright," he sighs defiantly as he pulls the quilt off us. "Oh, what did I do last night?"

I gulp as the very brief moment of how he kissed me floods back into my mind. I want to tell him how he kissed me. How I felt different when he did, how those brown eyes of his were looking at me differently. How I didn't stop the kiss. How I let myself go, let my guard down when he kissed me. I want to tell him that we kissed.

"Oh, I walked in on you and some hookers that's all."

"God, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Yup," I suffice.

---------

My phone rings and it's a little past 7PM. I look at the caller ID and it's Gabe. I don't know how I feel now- guilty, definitely.

"Hi," I greet when I answer.

"Hi babe," he says. "Are you home?"

"Yes," I say.

"Good, can I come over?"

"Sure."

"What's wrong?" he ask.

"Nothing? Why?"

"Oh," he says. "Well I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great."

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay. See you?

"See you."

-------

The buzzer goes off and I let Gabe in. My insides are all jittery and dreadful. Nobody knows that Blaine and I kissed. Not even Blaine. I don't know if I should tell him. I know he'll be pissed, but the guilt has been eating me away since morning.

There is a knock on the door and my stomach basically churches.

"Hello," I say and Gabe leans forward and catches my lips.

"Hey," he whispers.

"How was your day?" I ask as he walks into my apartment and removes his jacket.

"Not so good."

"Busy at work?"

"No," he says. "My boyfriend's been neglecting me the entire day and he won't tell me what's wrong."

"Oh," I say. He looks so handsome it doubles the guilt in me.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he pleads. He stands from the couch and stalks towards me.

I say nothing, because my guilt is consuming me.

"Kurt, I'm going to bear this all out to you, okay?" he says and I am confused. "I love you. I haven't loved anyone this much in a long, long time. To tell how you how much you mean to me, I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone, something I choose to hide, but I trust you and maybe this will make us closer or make you run from me but I don't care. I'm willing to take the risk because I want you to know- everything about me."

I gulp as I'm led to the couch.

"When Blaine asked if I've ever gone to rehab, the reason I walked off is because I did. I did went to rehab at one point in my life," he tells. His head falls, as if he's ashamed to tell me. "It was shortly after my mother passed away and it really took a toll on me because I loved her- so much. She was my world, my everything. She was- my mother. And I couldn't cope with losing her, so I drank. A lot. I drank to ease the pain, to get away from it all- to forget the hole that was in my heart. My father watched me as I spiraled out of control. That was the darkest period of my life, and then my father got into a car accident. He survived, thank god, but that made me change. That made me realize that I had to change my ways. I had to take care of him. So I joined AA at first, but that didn't help much, so I put myself into rehab and I got better. I realized that life had meaning again. I pursued ballet in memory of my mother, and I'm glad I did because it led me here. To you.

Kurt, I never thought I could feel whole again because even though I miss my mother, I thought I could never find true happiness anymore. That is until I met you. You gave me happiness. You gave me a place to put my love."

He looks at me with those genuine green eyes. My heart is in a puddle. I cannot process this information, though my heart is pointing right at him.

"I love you, Kurt. And I hope you love me back."

I cannot form proper sentences. My feelings are so confused then, for this man, for the unexplainable feeling I got when Blaine kissed me. But this sums it up, I've found my conclusion. It's Gabe. It's Gabe that my heart yearns for. I wanted to wait for him to open his heart to me, and now that he has- my feelings are clear. It's Gabe.

"I do love you," I confess.

"I hope you really mean it Kurt-"

"I do, Gabe. I really do. I've never been with anyone before in the way we have been together."

"Promise?" he says, his green eyes like comets in a night sky- spectacular.

"Promise," I breath it like a prayer.

"I want your heart, Kurt. I don't want to share it with anyone else," he says, and it sounds profound. He leans forward and catches my lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

Yes, this is where my lips and my heart belongs. With this man, who has made me fall in love with him in no amount of time at all. My heart is here, and that kiss with Blaine I'm choosing to ignore it and pretend it never happened, because even though I was confused with my feelings when it happened, my route is clear now. Gabe is my route.

His confession of his rehab days only solidified my feelings for him. He wasn't some drunk who was forced into help by his family and friends. No, he went through something traumatic. Something I can relate to.

"So that settles it, then? I love you, and you love me. I've been afraid to say it, but now that I have- it feels liberating because that's how I really feel," Gabe tells me.

"Me too," I smile and he kisses me again.

-------

"Hey," I say on the phone to Blaine when I am done with school and Gabe has to run off to the gallery.

"Hey," he says morosely.

"Are you in the office?"

"Yeah," he says.

"Are you okay?"

"I've been better, I guess."

"Fancy an ice cream run?"

"I'd love to, but since that three days drop out, I'm swamped with work now. I haven't even gotten a sandwich for lunch and Clara refuses to get me coffee- punishment for leaving her thinking I was dead. She's strangely taking it harder than you did," Blaine tells.

"Of course she is! She's your assistant! Everyone probably hounded her for your whereabouts, and work stuff. You should get her a gift."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Have you gotten a chance to talk to your dad? Or Cooper?"

"No, I haven't seen Cooper- I don't want to, to be honest. My dad's probably in his office."

"Talk to him maybe?" I say cautiously, not wanting to overstep because Blaine probably has a lot on his mind and the last thing he needs is for me to pressure him into talking to his dad.

"Another day," he brushes it off and I know he doesn't want to discuss it any further.

"Okay," I say timidly. "Anyway, I was gonna tell you that Gabe told me about his rehab."

"He did?" Blaine sounds surprised. "Why was he in rehab? Drugs?"

"Fuck you," I scold. "No, he was in rehab because he had a drinking problem because his mother had passed away and- well he couldn't handle the loss so he drowned it- Hey it actually sounds like something you would do. Drown yourself in alcohol to forget something."

"Oh," Blaine says. "I guess that's why he got his panties stuck when I asked him over dinner."

"Yup, and I told him I love him."

Blaine is silent for a moment. I wonder briefly if I should've told him that. Does he think I'm a juvenile now?

"What did he say?" he ask very quietly.

"Well, actually he said the words to me first, and then I said them to him."

"He said he loves you?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" I say, gauging his tone.

"No, of course not. I just- don't you think it's a little soon to exchange the I love yous?"

"No, I think when you know, you know," I point that out. "I love him, Blaine. I really do-"

"I'm glad that you've found someone, Kurt. But I think you've fallen too hard too fast."

"Well, I wasn't really asking for your take on it. I was simply just telling you-"

"Okay chill! Blaine interrupts. "God, I was just saying. Relax, okay."

I don't understand why he's so against my relationship with Gabe. Gabe has reconfirmed all those bad records he has under his background check, proving he's not some serial killer Blaine probably thought he was. Why is he still agains it?Shouldn't best friends support each others happiness?

I've complete blocked the memory of him kissing me. It was simply a drunken mistake, one Blaine made because he was far from himself. That meant nothing, I believe.

"I have to go. Lots of work," Blaine tells. "See you soon?"

"Yeah," I say.

"Good. I'm happy for you, Kurt. I just wish you had taken more time to get to know him better. That's all."

"Well, I think I know him fine."

"Okay," Blaine surrenders. "Talk to you soon then."

"Okay. Bye."