"Blaine! Where were you last night? We were all waiting for our lead actors to join us and neither of you guys came." Artie is cheerful this afternoon, riding on the steady waves of praise and eager for another successful night.

"Sorry. I was too tired, I went right to bed."

"Me too." Rachel chimes in. She's just breezed in, looking fresh and lovely, and a breath catches in Blaine's throat as another, much less innocent picture of her seems to overlay. "I needed my beauty sleep to be my best tonight. "

She's all business again. And yet, when she looks at Blaine, there's a new kind of warmth there, affection similar to how she is as Maria, even though she isn't in character yet.

"Okay, come, my Tony. Let's get over this one part we didn't get quite right last night." She takes his hand as if she did it every single day, and pulls him to the stage.

Blaine wants to ask her about last night, but it's not that easy – she's in rehearsal mode right away, fully focused on their act. Then other people start filing in and soon enough there's no room for private conversation, even if Rachel did take a moment to listen.

But at least their kiss is flawless this time, even if it leaves Blaine entirely distracted with sense memory, and Artie can't get over how much more chemistry there is between them now. There's so much, in fact, that Blaine needs to call for a short break to get back his focus, which stubbornly keeps wandering off towards memories of last night.

The hallways are deserted still, too early for the audience to start gathering, and he walks to the bathroom slowly, taking deep breaths, intent on splashing his face with cold water and getting his thoughts under control again. This is not the time to think about anything but his role, but it's nearly impossible to focus with Rachel there, a constant reminder, and Blaine's head full of questions.

Except when he reaches his destination, there's already someone there, standing in front of the mirror and fixing his hair.

Kurt.

He looks amazing today, quietly beautiful, but he stiffens visibly when Blaine enters. It can't be a good sign.

"Hey."

"Hi, Blaine." Kurt pronounces his name in this soft way again, his way, and it goes straight to Blaine's chest.

"Listen, about last night..." Blaine can clearly see the tension growing in Kurt's shoulders, his eyes flicking away for a heartbeat. He powers through, desperate to know. "Kurt, what are we?"

Confusion on Kurt's face, as if he didn't expect this particular question. "What do you mean?"

"Is it... was it a one-time thing? You and me and Rachel... does it change anything? Between us?"

"Oh." That's all it takes; most of the tension leaves Kurt's body with one soft exhalation. "Do you want it to? To... change things?"

Blaine nods slowly, feeling a blush spread over his face. "I... yes. I'd like that."

Kurt smiles, bright and sudden, and only now it hits Blaine that the reason for his tense demeanor might not have been the anticipation of Blaine getting clingy or wanting more when there was nothing to be offered. His eyes widen when he realizes the obvious.

Kurt thought Blaine would freak out, didn't he? That he'd ask him never to mention it to anyone, maybe. Because they kissed, they made out. Shirtless. On a bed. And Blaine has never given anyone reason to believe that he liked boys.

Well, he hasn't known it himself, has he?

And he's still fine with it, to the point of wondering if the freak-out will ever come at all. Somehow, he doubts it.

Kurt turns to face him now, and even through the smile, he sighs. "I – we – would like that, too. But it's not quite so easy, you know?"

Well duh.

He must have it written all over his face because Kurt smirks and shakes his head.

"No, I mean it. Remember when I said our parents are strict? We're not allowed to date. Or have people over, or even visit friends. If anyone knew about this, us, it would get to them sooner or later. The gossip net among the parents here is almost as bad as the students, you know? Worse, sometimes. And if our parents found out that we're seeing you, either of us – we'd be screwed."

It's hard to believe it can be that bad. Blaine knows not many parents are as tolerant as his but screwed sounds a little dramatic. Doesn't it?

Kurt must see the disbelief in Blaine's eyes because he smiles sadly.

"I'm not blowing it up. We... messed up in our old school; it's a long story. So now we're on a short leash, so to speak. If we break the rules, we'll have our extracurricular rights revoked, for starters, and we already had to make some sacrifices to get those, so–"

"Wait, even Glee?" Blaine's jaw drops.

"Especially Glee, since it's what we care about most and they know it. The musical, Rachel's ballet. Anything that takes our attention away from what's essential: school and family." Kurt shrugs. "I'm telling you this so that you know up front, any kind of... relationship with us would have to be completely secret, Blaine. And probably nothing like you imagine. It wouldn't really be like last night all that often."

"How come last night was possible then?"

"Our parents were in LA. They have to go back there sometimes, for a couple of days. But it only happens once every few months, and even then they have the neighbors check in on us."

"Good thing you don't have a babysitter." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but at least it makes Kurt smile again, and Blaine reaches to briefly touch Kurt's hand resting on the counter. "I don't care, Kurt. I just... I'd like to get closer to you. Both of you. I'd like to get to know you better. To be your friend?" He finishes on a question because he's not sure if it's something Kurt would even consider.

"Just a friend?" There's a teasing note in Kurt's voice, and Blaine blushes and ducks his head.

"No. Definitely not just a friend. I... I like you. A lot."

A school bathroom, with its drab look and the smell of bleach permeating the air, is hardly an ideal place for such confessions, but that's what they have. And now here it is, out in the open. Kurt's eyes shine brightly and his smile is unexpectedly shy when he says, softly,

"I like you too."

And then he is leaning just a bit closer and Blaine mirrors the move, meeting him in a short, sweet kiss. They part too soon because this is a public place, after all, and he knows now that the consequences of being seen are graver than Blaine having to explain his newly-found sexuality twist to the world. There's too much at stake and he wouldn't risk Kurt's – or Rachel's – wellbeing like that, no matter how much his body craves this newly discovered bliss of closeness and touch.

But even as Kurt leaves the bathroom with a soft "See you later," Blaine's heart is singing anyway.

That night Blaine's parents are in the audience and they steal him away to a congratulatory dinner before he can even talk with anyone afterwards. Still, he knows Kurt must have told Rachel about their talk because all through the play she's been more affectionate than ever. Plus, when they got off the stage after the final bows, she hugged him tightly before bouncing off to change.

And then Monday comes and some things shift – small, unexpected things that fill Blaine's life with sudden light.

He runs into school five minutes before the final bell in the morning, still fixing his hair and mentally shuffling through the contents of his locker to determine what he needs to grab before heading to class. He's hit the snooze button too many times again before finally rolling out of bed – a habit he really should try harder to eradicate because as much as he hates getting up early, he hates being in a hurry a lot more.

He's so preoccupied that he only notices someone leaning against his locker when he's two feet away, and instantly his day gets a lot brighter.

"Morning." Rachel all but purrs, sultry and seductive, before dissolving into giggles. Kurt just smiles and extends a small brown paper bag towards Blaine.

"Hi! What's this?"

"Breakfast." Kurt states matter-of-factly, and Blaine's stomach grumbles loudly. Of course he didn't have time to eat anything in the morning rush, but how would they know?

He opens the bag and the smell of cinnamon and sugar hits him in a warm wave. There are two cinnamon rolls there, and he can't resist taking one and biting into it immediately, a loud moan ripping out of his throat. It's absolutely delicious, freshly baked, and how is that even possible? There is no bakery anywhere near McKinley.

"Kurt made them." Rachel submits. Clearly, Blaine's confusion wasn't exactly hidden. "He needs ridiculously little sleep and he gets bored in the mornings."

Blaine looks at Kurt with wide eyes. They'll never stop surprising him, will they?

"God, they're amazing! Thank you, I didn't have time to grab breakfast this morning so you may have just saved my life." He says, opening his locker one-handed and taking the books he needs for his first class.

Kurt smirks. "Oh, I know. It's Monday. You always rush in at the last moment on Mondays."

Blaine's jaw drops a little. It's true. Mondays are always hardest for him when it comes to getting up, after sleeping in during the weekends. But he's never thought anyone noticed that; and definitely not them.

He doesn't have time to ask anything (and potentially embarrass himself) because just then the bell rings and they all move towards their first classroom of the day. But even when they're seated and in the middle of the history lecture, Blaine can see Kurt's smile in his peripheral vision, and can't help smiling back.

At lunch, Blaine joins the siblings at their table in the courtyard. They sit together in Glee, too, and Blaine is a little surprised that no one is looking at him weird by now. But then he remembers that even though the others have no way of knowing what happened between the three of them, becoming friends with your co-star from the play must look pretty natural. And since said co-star is never without her brother... well, it all seems very organic.

They still have three shows this week, but Sectionals are in two weeks, too, so the usual rush of preparations begins. On Monday it's still very chaotic, but Blaine knows the drill well by now. They'll spend a week arguing over songs and solos. Then there'll be another week of frantic practicing, probably embellished by song changes and some inside drama. And then they'll get their shit together minutes before the competition and they'll be amazing. Because that's what they do.

In the meantime, Blaine lets himself immerse in the completely new, incomparable feeling of having... hm. Not a girlfriend; not a boyfriend. But at the same time, friends who are both. He's allowed to think about them like this; to fantasize. He can interpret every suggestive word, every glance at his lips and covert touch of his hand, the way he wants to see them – because he knows that's how they're meant. It's almost scary, at the beginning; and then it isn't scary at all because Rachel catches him looking longingly at Kurt's lips and smiles, and calms his nervous blabbering with a firm "It's alright. You're not the only one who wants this."

They don't have a lot of time together: only at school, mostly just lunch breaks and Glee. But then one morning Blaine arrives at his locker early, because he knows the siblings will be there already, with three cups of coffee he grabbed at the Lima Bean on the way – mocha for Kurt, cappuccino for Rachel, latte for himself. They settle in the still empty classroom and talk, and soon it becomes their thing, the mornings with coffee or Kurt's pastries, half an hour before most people arrive, to warm up and wake up properly for the day.

Blaine no longer has a problem with getting up in the morning.

Mornings are also when the siblings are most open, most likely to talk about themselves, and slowly, Blaine gets to learn things about them as they let him in, little by little.

He learns that Kurt lost his dad early and Rachel never really knew her mom; that their parents got together when they were both nine. He learns that Rachel is three and a half months older than Kurt, and that they hated each other for the first months living together, until it all came to a head and they discovered just how similar they were, with their defiance and their strong opinions, and their love of music. They've loved each other ever since.

Blaine tries to ask when it first became something more, but they swiftly change the topic. He doesn't ask again. Inquiring about the nature of their problems in LA ends the same way. He only learns that their parents got relocated, and decided it was a good opportunity to tame the kids with a new school and a new place.

He's shocked to learn they don't have cell phones, or internet access at home. He must admit it has its perks, though, because while he hates not being able to contact them outside of school, it saves him from the embarrassment of the late night texts that he might have been tempted to send otherwise, sounding like a lovesick puppy. The things that come to him when he's in his bed late at night, right before falling asleep – the thoughts about Rachel or Kurt, or both of them – tend to be terribly cheesy. He knows, he writes them down sometimes, makes notes in his phone in the darkness. They always make him blush in the morning.

Those first two weeks, between the opening night and Sectionals, are enough for Blaine to realize just how different the siblings are, though they seem so similar in so many ways.

With Rachel, they always seem to end up talking about music or theater, as they're really knowledgeable and honestly passionate about both. Rachel is unlikely to surprise him with a personal question or a deep conversation; she doesn't dig in the past or inquire about future.

With Kurt, on the other hand, Blaine can never be sure what to expect. They can be talking about school and then suddenly jump to social justice, or dreams, or fashion that Kurt seems to know plenty about, or politics. Kurt asks, and asks plenty, like he wants to know all the little things about Blaine: if he likes reading and what is the furthest he's ever travelled; how old he was when he had his first girlfriend (he looks stunned when Blaine confesses he never did) and where he imagines himself in ten years.

But when the questions are directed back at him, Kurt expertly changes the topic.

Those two weeks are also enough to realize that each of them affects Blaine differently.

With Rachel, it's a simple, steady hum of attraction under his skin and in his fingertips when she's near, she's all soft lips and gentle curves and silky hair.

Kurt is a tempestuous boiling of want; he's desire lacing Blaine's blood with dark smudges of thoughts that make him blush. One look, a smile, tilting his head just so, the line of his long legs as he's walking somewhere at the other end of the hallway or dancing in Glee – even the most innocent moments can grip Blaine sometimes and keep him hostage, make him squirm.

If he were to compare each of them to ice-cream flavors, Rachel would be the best French vanilla, sweet and rich, with occasional pockets of hidden caramel when she turns on her sultry, seductive side.

Kurt... Kurt is the finest dark chocolate, bitter-sweet and sublime, surprising with a chili aftertaste, a bit of mint filling, an almond hidden where you never expected it.

Rachel means jerking off every time after they kiss onstage – late at night when Blaine's back home, safely ensconced in his bed behind a closed door.

Two minutes of kissing Kurt, one unexpected afternoon when they're miraculously the last ones left in the empty locker room after PE, and Blaine ends up getting off desperately in a school restroom because the need is overwhelming and immediate, blocking all the other thoughts and impossible to conceal in his skinny jeans before he gets to Glee practice.

Rachel's charm is simple and easy to understand, it's up on the surface, obvious when she allows it to be. She seems innocent and cute most of the time – but Blaine saw her other side, the one with stronger make-up and more revealing clothes, with open seductiveness, and now it's so easy to notice it glinting in her eyes sometimes, hidden behind the sweet mask of her face, or in the way her body moves.

Kurt never acts seductively. He just is, calm and quiet, sometimes even standoffish, but always attentive. Sometimes shy, almost vulnerable when there are no other people around.

They are so very different. Blaine still can't believe he's allowed to like and desire both of them.

The Warblers from Dalton Academy – their only real competition at Sectionals – are amazing, it turns out. But New Directions are right there with them. There's a fire in their performance, bright and infectious, and Blaine doesn't think they've ever been so good before, and it's very much Rachel's doing.

Blaine really wasn't surprised to see her featured heavily in their setlist. No one was, though some of the girls grumbled a little, disappointed to be pushed into the background by a newcomer. But everyone knew it was the best choice. Rachel is a natural born leader and her voice is spectacular. Blaine doesn't understand why she says she's not planning a career in performance arts.

Whatever her reasons, she's more than happy to shine during Sectionals. She has a solo and a duet with Blaine, and even an essential part in their group number. It's a lot for a single person in a show choir, but she handles it beautifully. Blaine just wishes Kurt's magical voice was more featured, but he realizes it's hard to find songs that would show it off properly and still be competition material. Kurt doesn't seem to care too much anyway.

They end up in a draw with the Warblers. Personally, Blaine is convinced they should have won over the bunch of uniformed acapella boys, but what's important is that they are going to Regionals. And then to Nationals, they'll be damned if they don't, with that much power and awesomeness.

In all the celebratory bouncing and group-hugging, it takes Blaine a while to realize that Rachel and Kurt are not with them.

He can't find them anywhere backstage, so he goes out to the slowly emptying auditorium – and yes, there they are, talking to a middle-aged couple. It takes a moment to compute, from their body language and the way the woman's eyes look exactly like Kurt's, but then Blaine smiles. They haven't told him their parents were going to be here today, but it's great, it always feels so good when his own parents manage to find time to come see him perform. Which they didn't this time, there were surgeries and appointments and lectures that couldn't be rescheduled, but he's happy for his friends, to see them supported like this.

He's just considering going over to introduce himself, just as a friend, of course – and tell Rachel and Kurt there's going to be a celebration at Breadstix tonight – but Kurt notices him and his eyes widen, his head shaking minutely, no. Blaine's smile fades. Are they ashamed of him? Why would they? He's nice and polite, his other friends' parents always love him; is he that much of a secret that they can't even admit he's their friend? Fine, okay. Feeling a little hurt, he slides back behind the curtains and returns to the greenroom.

He's still frowning a minute later when Kurt walks in to gather their things and let everyone know they won't be going back with them. He leans close to Blaine on his way out the door, just a warm whisper against his ear.

"You're way too transparent when you look at us; they'd know, or at least suspect. Trust me, it's better. And god, I just want to kiss you when you pout like this."

And then he's gone, and Blaine is left aching for the touch, the kiss, the time alone.

The week before Christmas is always crazy at McKinley, and doubly so for the Glee club members. Even though Coach Sue isn't playing Grinch this year and Mr. Schue has finally accepted that going from classroom to classroom caroling will never be a good idea, they are still busy. There is Christmas cheer to be spread and charities to sing for, and money to be earned so that they can afford to go to Regionals in March. There's also plenty of fun to be had as they decorate the choir room and play with Christmas songs to their hearts' content.

It's refreshing to see how much Rachel and Kurt are enjoying it. The rest of the club is mostly used to it now, after the last year or two, but seeing his newest friends get carried away and lose themselves in the Christmas spirit despite their usual careful distance gives Blaine a special kind of thrill. He loves Christmas. He loves the colorful lights and the smell of Christmas trees, the snow and the way everyone seems to be happy, if only for a little while.

Rachel and Kurt are going back to LA for Christmas, only to return on January 2nd, and Blaine finds himself a little torn about it. On one hand, he's going to miss them, he knows that already. Ever since West Side Story, the longest they went without seeing each other was the weekends, and even then he could feel the pull towards them by Sunday afternoon. On the other – he really doesn't know where he stands with them, and what it means in relation to Christmas.

If he had a girlfriend – or a boyfriend, for that matter – it would be easy: a thoughtful gift, spending time together during the break, kissing under the mistletoe. But there's nothing ordinary or traditional about them. They're friends, yes, but other than that? Does it count as more when they've only kissed once during the six weeks since the play premiere, and mostly they're just a big secret, barely acknowledging that there's anything more than friendship there? Is there anything more, besides attraction and sexual tension, and a whole lot of fantasies? Blaine doesn't want to assume, or push them by acting like their boyfriend even in those short moments when there are no people around, and frankly, sometimes he feels like that evening in their attic bedroom was just a vivid, wonderful dream.

In the end, they only exchange brief, awkward hugs (they're in public, after all) and cheerful wishes of Merry Christmas, and then the Hummelberrys are gone for a full long week.