CHAPTER 5

The next afternoon, Kurt is showered and changed into “civilian” clothes when he pulls up in front of a small cream-painted house with a moss-green roof and a swing on the porch. Blaine opens the door so fast it looks like he was standing behind it waiting for him to ring the bell. Well, maybe he was. He’s still in his school clothes, minus the pink bowtie, though some hair has escaped the captivity of its gelled prison by now and curled along his temples.

There’s a little awkwardness as they say their hellos, the ice not yet broken with their single encounter in the library. Neither of them are exactly sure what to expect from the other. It’s Blaine who breaks the tension, his natural friendliness overcoming hesitation.

“So, do you believe in catching gay by proximity?” he asks conversationally as Kurt hangs his jacket and picks up his bag. “Because if you do, we should settle at the kitchen table. It wouldn’t be  as comfortable, but at least you could focus on the project and not worry that I’m going to touch you by accident. Or, you know, on purpose.”

There’s no malice in his voice, just a slight teasing, and Kurt realizes that this kind of distance must have taken a hell of a long time to develop. Which means Blaine had probably been bullied for being gay – among other things – even before he came to McKinley. Something clenches in Kurt’s chest at the memories of his middle school and the thought of how narrowly he avoided a similar fate now.

The silence is stretching and with a start, Kurt realizes that Blaine’s still waiting for him to reply.

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” And it’s not like I could get any more gay anyway, he adds in his head.

“Good, so we can go up to my room then and settle more comfortably there. I have a few Web pages to show you, and a long e-mail from the history professor I told you about. Do you want something to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.”

They take their glasses of water upstairs, to Blaine’s room. It’s nice; tidy and tastefully furnished; manly but cozy. It only seems to strengthen the feeling Kurt’s had all along, that there’s more to Blaine than meets the eye – so very much more. There are a lot of books there, many of which Kurt has read and loved; there’s evidence of Blaine’s interests in polo and fencing, photography and music. And not just listening and singing, but playing, too – stacks of CDs fill a long shelf, there’s a guitar lying on the bed and a keyboard in a corner. Sheet music litter the desk until Blaine gathers them up and puts them away on a shelf.

Kurt’s intrigued – he’s fascinated, more so by the minute as they ease seamlessly into work, planning and outlining their project, dividing tasks and brainstorming ideas. Blaine is hands down the best project partner Kurt’s ever had. Quinn is brilliant, of course, but their ways of thinking are quite different and often they spend too much time negotiating angles and approaches until they reach a compromise that doesn’t really satisfy either of them. Not to mention, sooner or later they end up kissing on her bed.

Blaine, on the other hand, seems to read Kurt’s mind – it sounds crazy, but it feels like they’re in synch, sharing the same mind-space. Their ideas are similar, yet different enough to complement each other; they don’t need to explain anything in detail – the other always seems to grasp any concept immediately and run with it. It’s so smooth that it’s exhilarating. And extremely effective.

After an hour they’re both surprised to be done with what they’ve hoped to accomplish today, including the short presentation of their chosen topic for the class next week. They look at each other, grinning, before they remember they’re not friends, not really, and look away quickly. There’s still a smile in Blaine’s voice, though, when he says, “I’d say we make a good team, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt smiles too, the sudden tension releasing. “I’d have to agree, Mr. Anderson.”

They busy themselves gathering papers and notes, and the silence is comfortable enough that Kurt doesn’t mind it when Blaine makes a careful step into the personal realm.

“So I’m guessing you’re not just counting on the cheerio scholarship then, when it comes to college?”

Kurt shakes his head with an expression of mock horror.

“God, no. I mean, it’ll be nice to know that there’s an option if everything else fails, but I have other plans for college and they don’t include dreadful polyester uniforms.” Damn, he already said too much. What is it with this guy that he seems to bring out the honesty in him?

“Interesting. I thought you rather liked cheering and the uniform.”

Kurt just smiles – he’s already said enough – and reverses the questioning. “What about you? What are your plans? Law? Medicine?”

“Music, actually.” Blaine blushes slightly and looks away. “Or musical theatre. At least that’s what I want; my parents try to convince me otherwise.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, surprised. “A performer then? I wouldn’t guess, with your academic achievements. But you’d be good at it. As far as I can tell, I mean.”

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence then, hesitation before a possible jump into deep water, but it’s too early and Kurt’s suddenly tired and a bit afraid of the effect Blaine seems to have on his carefully built defense mechanisms. So he picks up his bag, they set the date of their next meeting and say goodbye.

It’s a few days later and they’ve just finished dividing and discussing all the research they need to do for their project – Blaine will take the Dalton part while Kurt takes care of the background, and then they’ll compile their notes and write the essay together. His things already packed, Kurt dares to ask the question that’s been nagging at him since their last meeting.

“Why music? I mean – you’re obviously really talented, but how do you know that’s what you want to do your whole life?”

Blaine perches at the edge of the desk and shrugs, the shy smile on his face making him look somehow more open than Kurt’s ever seen him.

“I just… know. I’m good at some other stuff too, so I guess I could do many things. Like my father says, law or business would give me certainty I won’t starve. But music… it makes me feel alive. I know that’s where I’m supposed to be, when I perform. I feel strong, invincible like nowhere else. There are things I’m unable to say, but I can express them in song. There are problems that seem impossible to solve or even survive, but music makes them better. It’s everything, it’s part of me. And it just comes natural to me, you know?”

“I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

Kurt’s waiting for the obvious question, unsure what he’ll say when it comes. It’s not like he can admit that he gets it, because music makes him feel the same. Or that fashion is like that for him, too – he just sees these things, it clicks, it’s clear and understandable without words – the forms and colors, lines and designs.

The question never comes – Blaine just looks at him curiously and lets it go. They talk about Glee for a moment longer, and then Kurt goes home again, secretly wishing he had a reason to hang out with Blaine a little longer.

The third time they meet, after discussing Dalton Academy for over two hours – and really, they have some fascinating (and ridiculous) history there – Kurt can’t hold the question in any longer.

“Why did you transfer?” He catches himself quickly, seeing Blaine tense. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, it was rude of me to ask. It’s just… when you talk about it, and the Warblers, it’s clear that you felt really good there, and it seems like a respectful and safe place. Why would you move to McKinley where you’re…”

“… a bottom feeder? A loser? Treated like trash?”

Kurt blushes. It sounds terrible, but he can’t deny that’s what it is. “Yeah.”

Blaine’s eyes flash something hard and proud as he raises his head, looking Kurt straight in the eyes.

“My parents couldn’t afford another year of Dalton tuition, even with a scholarship, so I didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m sorry.”

The silence stretches between them, awkward, and Kurt feels terrible for asking, but also because suddenly he can imagine with perfect clarity what this transfer meant to Blaine. How hard it must have been to come from the safe walls of Dalton with its no tolerance policy, to the torturous corridors of McKinley. And yet, Blaine remained himself.

It was mostly curiosity that pushed Kurt into wanting to get to know this boy. But now, it starts to look a lot like admiration, too. And honestly, he can’t help but admit that he simply likes Blaine. His brilliant mind and nice demeanor, his sense of humor and the way he seems to accept Kurt, no matter who he is.

Really, Blaine is everything Kurt would want to see in a friend.