A few hours later found Kurt sitting on the front steps of Dalton waiting for Blaine to get out of his last class.

The bell rang and moments later Blaine came out of the door, nearly tumbling over Kurt where he sat. 

“Oh, hey Kurt!” he exclaimed, gripping Kurt’s shoulders as he righted himself. “You weren’t waiting long were you, I tried to get here as quick as possible. I swear that was the longest hour of my life. Mr. Burns shouldn’t not be allowed to—what?”

He stopped when saw Kurt, who had stood once Blaine released him, biting his lip.

“Nothing.” Kurt shook his head. “I don’t think I was waiting long, but I guess I don’t really know. I took my school stuff back to my room after my Biology class then walked around a bit and ended up here,” he shrugged.

“Oh, ok. Shall we then?” Blaine held his arm out, gesturing for Kurt to go ahead of him with a grin, and they headed towards the parking lot. “So how was your first full day?”

Kurt had found this to be quite common question for most people. He still didn’t quite understand why they found it so interesting when most days, especially for him, were essentially the same. But at least he had enough practice to know how to answer it. Ms. Rowe had started their session every day with it after all.

“It went fine. Art was interesting. I didn’t have that yesterday. I—“ Kurt hesitated, wondering if perhaps this was a bit to self assuming or promoting, but somehow he felt like Blaine would like to know. “They didn’t have enough pottery wheels, so I painted. I’ve never done that before but Jeff says I’m good.”

“Oooh! A hidden artist! You would be full of mysterious talents, wouldn’t you Kurt Hummel?” Blaine laughed.

“Oh, umm, yes?” Kurt responded. He wasn’t quite sure what Blaine meant by that. It probably wasn’t bad though, right?

Blaine shuffled ahead of Kurt and opened the passenger door to his car as they approached. “Your chariot awaits, my liege.” Seriously!?!?! Blaine berated himself in his mind. Be a little more cheesy why don’t you!

Kurt just kind of cocked his head at him though, “Uh, what?” 

Blaine ducked his head blushing, Kurt looked really cute when he cocked his head. “Nothing,” Blaine shook his head, he never realized how big he was on expressions, he really need to work on that. “It’s just a silly saying, basically a fancy way of saying get in,” Blaine smiled in a way he hoped was charming.

Kurt nodded, clearly tucking away the phrase for future reference, before sliding in swiftly. Blaine closed the door and ran around to his side, hopping in and turning the car on. “What’s your favorite genre of music, Kurt?” he asked, flipping through the songs on his Ipod as he plugged it in. 

“Oh,” Kurt said, seeming caught off guard, “I’m sure whatever you like is fine.”

“C’mon Kurt, I like everything on here and I’ve probably got at least a little of practically everything.”

“Everything?” Kurt said glancing at the Ipod with curiosity.

“Pretty much, so what’ll it be?”

“Could you just put it on shuffle?” Kurt asked looking unsure, like he usually did when he was asking someone else to do something. “I-uh—didn’t get a lot of variety in the music I listened to up until a couple months ago. I’ve been trying to explore the different types, um, genres?” he glanced at Blaine out of the side of his eye for confirmation. 

Blaine nodded. “Sure thing,” he said as he pressed the shuffle button and pulled out. “You tell me if anything stands out to you and I can give it to you, okay?”

Kurt looked over at him eyes wide, “Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thank you.” Kurt said sincerely. He smiled a small excited smile, that may or may not have made Blaine smile, as he turned to study the picture of the album cover of the song playing. He touched the screen so it lit up and he could read the band and song name and lay back in the seat and closed his eyes, listening, the corners of his mouth still turned up slightly.

Kurt should smile more, Blaine thought. Why is there not a team of people employed to make Kurt smile? Blaine wondered, barely containing a snort at how much he sounded like a crushing schoolboy.

Blaine smirked when the next song came around and hummed softly for a bit before he started to sing along, gaining volume as the song built. He could feel Kurt’s gaze on him but kept his gaze focused ahead until he pulled into the parking lot of the Lima Bean just as the song was ending. When he did look over though he found Kurt’s gaze to be intense, and bordering on pained.

“Was I that bad?” he questioned.

“Hm?” Kurt started shaking his head as if pulled out of deep thought, his expression returning to neutral with a slight hint of apologetic. “Oh, no, no, not at all, sorry, I didn’t I meant to, I was just, thinking. I was just thinking. Do you, only do you do that a lot?”

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Sing,” Kurt specified, “In the car, to random songs that come on?”

“Oh,” Blaine said trying to keep the bewilderment from his voice, “Yeah,  all the time. It’s a fun way to pass time in the car, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kurt responded, but his eyes were downcast and distant, a faint crease pulling his eyebrows together.

“Kurt?” Blaine questioned as he pulled into a parking spot, turning towards him in effort to pull him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry,” Kurt said, turning his head so it was in line with Blaine, but slowly so, keeping his gaze down and distant, returning his attention to the present, but no losing his thought. “It’s just, well, I miss singing, but Miss Rowe says I shouldn’t perform and I want to do what she wants but, maybe that would be okay?” His gaze flickered up, looking for confirmation.

A second passes where their eyes meet before there’s a flash of realization and Kurt’s eyes widen. “Oh, no! I don’t know if I was supposed to say that, was that a weird thing to say? Are you freaked out? Oh no, oh dear, what am I—“

Blaine set a hand on Kurt’s shoulder to try and pause his speech; he tried to make it very gentle but Kurt jumped dramatically at the touch all the same.

“Sorry,” Blaine said, pulling his hand back immediately and holding both up in the air, “ I was just trying to get your attention. Listen, Kurt,” Blaine said, lowering his hands slowly as Kurt’s shoulders settled back down and his breath evened out from getting worked up. “nothing you said was that weird, confusing sure, but nothing to ‘freak out’ over,” Blaine assured, making quotation marks in the air at Kurt’s terminology. 

Kurt nodded, but the set of his brow told Blaine he was still uneasy.

“If you want,” he continued, “I can pretend like it didn’t happen. Will never mention it, promise!” Blaine mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

Kurt, watching him through his lashes, scrunching his eyebrows together at the gesture, but before Blaine could explain a small quick of Kurt’s lips made him decide to let it go. “Okay,” Kurt agreed, “yes, thank you, I think that would be good.”

“Of course,” Blaine responded, moving to open the door then turning back, “but, just one thing before we let it go,” Blaine paused , allowing Kurt a chance to stop him, but he just nodded. “I don’t know exacting what’s going on with this whole not being allowed to sing or able or whatever, but if you miss it, I think you should get to. So I would say definitely ask this Miss Rowe about it. I highly doubt she’ll have any problem with it.”

Kurt shook his head, letting out  a small short breath that Blaine supposed was supposed to be a laugh. “I don’t know about that,” Blaine opened his mouth to respond but surprisingly Kurt cut him off with a small shake of his head, “It’s complicated, but I’ll ask her.”

“Good,” Blaine smiled, getting out of the car and running around to open Kurt’s door.

…

“So, coffee,” Blaine said as they stood in front of a counter looking up at a board in the crowded little shop, “is one of the greatest delicacies that has ever graced this earth. Your life is about to be made Kurt Hummel. Any idea what you’d like to try?”

Kurt stared up at the board, his head swimming at the quantity of options. “I really don’t know. What are you--”

He cut off as a little girl ran past his leg, shrieking. His eyes followed her, his body turning automatically. She looked back with bright brown eyes, full of excitement not terror, but the shade was reminiscent all the same. And then someone bumped roughly into him from behind, hands coming up to grip him around the shoulders to steady him before moving past. Kurt’s eyes clamped shut, trying not to see.  

Trying not to see brown eyes burning with terror. Trying to see them panic as her hands tugged at the bars in desperation, she knew they would not budge. Trying to avoid the arms waiting to clamp around him and pull him back as he watched the realization dawn in her eyes.

He felt the hand on his shoulder and ripped out of its grasp, not again.

Blaine had been trying to ask Kurt if he’d rather something try something fancy and less strong or just plain, when he had frozen up, eyes closing while his one hand gripped the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles were white. Blaine had tried saying his name several times before giving up and tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. Kurt’s eyes had flown open and he had violently knocked it away as he stumbled back against the counter.

“Woah there,” Blaine said, stretching his arms out, making sure not to touch him but ready to catch him if he fell. He looked unsteady after all, his eyes darting around while his chest rose and fell in visible heaves. “Hey, you alright?’

Kurt’s eyes locked onto Blaine’s for only a second before they dropped, but that was all it took for Kurt to bring himself back. He pushed himself up from the counter and eased his breath.

“Yeah, sorry, just, got a little faint…hot, it’s hot…”

It wasn’t really, neither in the coffee house, nor outside where a crisp fall breeze was present. But still, there was sweat trickling down the back of Kurt’s neck. He felt suffocated by the layers of his uniform. He swiftly undid the buttons of his blazer and shrugged it off, placing it over his arm and loosening his tie in the same go.

Blaine looked at him concerned. “Are you sure you’re alright. Do you get hot flashes?”

Kurt shook his head, breathing out slowly. “I’m fine. I think I’ll just go sit down for a minute. Excuse m--”

Kurt had started walking backwards towards the tables while still talking to Blaine. Just as he was stepping out of the congestion of the line, a woman, scurrying her way along to the table with the lids and stirrers, stepped into his path. Her coffee, still steaming, poured out onto his lower back and seeped through his white dress shirt and undershirt easily, letting out a light but sharp hiss as it soaked into the skin there.

The woman stared at him horrified. Blaine rushed over to him, hands moving frantically but pointlessly through the air as he asked if Kurt was okay. And Kurt? Kurt blinked once slowly before saying very calmly to Blaine, “Could you excuse me for a moment, please? I need to go wash that off.” And then he walked swiftly over to the bathroom, before the woman could even get out a distressed ‘I’m so sorry, let me-’, leaving Blaine staring wide eyed after him.

…

Kurt closed the door firmly behind him, turning to press his forehead into it, letting his blazer fall to the ground. He could feel the rawness of the skin where the coffee was simmering. The pain barely phased him, but he feared intensely what it would look like when he removed his shirt.

He could not believe he’d gotten burned now. After everything. The irony of it was incredible. The feeling of bitterness, unfamiliar and unbidden twisted his stomach. He felt the urge to go into one of the stalls and allow his lunch to heave itself up as it seemed intent on doing, but quelled it. He’d dealt with much worse; there was no reason to get so worked up. He walked over to the mirror, facing away from it. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, pausing at the bottom. Then he raised trembling hands to the collar and tugged it down an inch, two--

There came a soft knock on the door, and Kurt jerked that shirt back up. The door swung open slowly to reveal Blaine. “Kurt, are you sure you’re alright? That coffee looked really h--”

Blaine choked on his words when he saw Kurt, standing in the middle of the bathroom, his shirt hanging open on the front side, and wet and clinging to him on the back. “H-hot,” he stuttered out. “Here, I um, brought you an extra shirt I had in my car,” he said holding out one of the T-shirts he kept in the back, just in case.

“Oh,” Kurt said, staring at the shirt as though dazed for a moment before responding. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. It’s fine, I’ll just wring this out and—“

“Kurt, take it,” Blaine insisted.

Kurt reached out to take it, his shirt falling down his shoulder a bit. Blaine eyes followed it, trailing down the curve of Kurt’s upper left bicep where it fell. Somehow he had managed to neglect how muscular Kurt was despite his leanness. As Kurt drew the T-shirt back to himself he pulled the sides of his shirt together, the motion recovering his shoulder.

The movement made Blaine realize where his eyes had been lingering, and he snapped them back to Kurt’s face, trying not to blush.

Kurt, for his part, was clutching the shirt to his chest and looking incredibly tense as he stuttered, “Could you—I need to—maybe if you—I, uh, I don’t want anyone to see me,” Kurt sighed in a small voice, holding the shirt up.

Blaine felt a jerk of shame at his insensitivity. Here Kurt was, exposed, clearly uncomfortable, probably in pain, and he was ogling at him; though admittedly he hadn’t seemed to notice.

“Yeah, of course, sorry. I’ll just wait outside and make sure no one comes in,” Blaine said, turning around promptly and letting himself out.

Kurt sighed, feeling guilty for making Blaine leave as he turned back to the mirror and set the shirt on the sink. On one hand he felt no right to think of, let alone ask for such privacy. But between his allegiance to the authority of Miss Rowe, who had advised keeping his…markings hidden, and the fear that filled him at even the thought of the sight of the burn on his skin, he didn’t really have a choice. The words had tumbled out somewhat unbidden. 

Shaking his head he pressed him palms into his eyes and turned so the mirror was at his side. After a moment he lowered his hands enough to take his shirt off, in one swift motion this time. Without pausing, he gripped the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head, paying no mind to the way it stuck to and tugged at the raw, sensitive skin on his back.

He tossed it on the floor beside him with the dress shirt and stood completely still for a long moment. Eyes closed, fists clenching and unclenching. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes slowly and saw…

Grey. Grey tiles. Right, his head was bent toward the floor.

He raised it slowly until he could see his reflection in the mirror from the side. He’d meant to start from the top of his back and ease his way down to prepare himself, but the patch of angry red flesh drew his gaze straight to it. It was shiny, like it was wet, despite the way the edges were cracked and dry. There were two small blisters on the left where the coffee cup had pressed into him as it poured, surrounded by a circle of bright red. It faded towards pink at the edges, but even there the contrast was startling with his pale skin. Marred. Disgusting.

He’s going to be so angry.

The thought burst into Kurt’s mind and he fell to his knees as though hit by a strong blow. The association reaction fresh and poignant even though he’d kept his skin unblemished for years. He’d learned quickly when he was young how to be careful. How to avoid things like this. He’d had to.

He tried to take a deep breath. Tried to tell himself that it was just an accident.  That it wasn’t his fault. That it’d heal in a week and he’d probably never even know.

But the chant went on in his head, paralyzing all reasoning. So angry, so angry, angry. The repetition continued until the words weren’t distinct, but a constant hum, and still longer until another voice replaced it. Rougher. Quieter. And so, so angry.

“What did I tell you? Do you listen to me at all? Or do you just like being—“

“Kurt?” Blaine knocking on the door drew Kurt back. “Everything okay in there? Do you need help?”

Kurt shook his head standing up quickly. “No, I’ll be out in a second he said.” He grabbed a couple paper towels, wet them slightly and ran them over the burn, the wave of pain clearing his thoughts. Then he pulled the t-shirt over the tender skin, grabbed his clothes of the floor, and opened the door to Blaine.

“Sorry,” he said, not sure how long he’d taken.

“No worries, are you sure you’re alright? We can go if you want?”

Kurt shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine. You were so excited about me trying coffee, I want to do it.”

Blaine looked at him doubtfully but nodded. “Alright. Why don’t you just go grab a seat for us and I’ll get the coffee. Did you see anything that perked your interest before, you know?” Blaine gestured at the clothes in Kurt’s hand.

“No. I’m sure whatever you’re having is fine, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, I’ll be right back.”

Kurt nodded and went to sit down at the first empty table he could find. As his mind wandered he wished he’d had the nerve to insist upon accompanying Blaine. He was restless, trying to keep his thoughts from running away from him, again. He raised a hand to run through his hair and dropped it back down on the table heavily. He itched to drum his fingers against the table top like he’d seen Blaine as he dazed off in history, but was afraid of disturbing the customers around him, even if such tapping would have been nearly impossible to discern amongst the chatter and scraping of chairs.

Just as Kurt was about to give in and go find Blaine, he appeared at the table, two tightly lidded cups in hand. 

“Alright, two medium drips. Basic, but a good introduction to coffee. And of course you can add cream and sugar if you want,” Blaine said sitting down.

Kurt pulled the cup across the table to himself. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his eyes, which had been flickering around the room on Blaine’s trip back from the line, now trained firmly on the cup, and the steam rising from the little whole in the lid. Blaine had surprised but pleased when Kurt had said he didn’t want to go home after the incident. Now as he took in the tenseness of Kurt’s posture he wondered if he should have insisted that they do this another time. It was hardly turning out how he’d planned. Still, if Kurt was still up to trying, perhaps he could salvage the experience.

“Of course,” Blaine said warmly. 

Kurt took a tentative sip of the coffee. Blaine watched, telling himself it was for his reaction, and not because of the way his lips pressed flush against the cup as he did so, but Kurt’s face gave away nothing as he swallowed.

“So?”

“It’s good,” Kurt nodded assuredly, shoulders dropping marginally, but still tense, “very good.”

“Fantastic,” Blaine said in a perhaps overdoing it cheerful voice as he watched Kurt swirl the cup before taking another sip. “Lots of coffee dates in our future then Mr. Hummel, I come here either before or after Warblers practice almost every day,” Blaine chatted as he removed the lid from his coffee and stirred in a couple packet of sugar.

Kurt looked over at him as he did so, eyebrows furrowing. “That is, I mean if you want to?” Blaine stuttered out, backtracking and cheeks flaring as he realized the term coffee date may have been coming on too strong.

“Yes, of course,” Kurt said quickly, “I was just wondering, how is it different, with the sugar?” He gestured to the empty sugar packet besides Blaine’s cup.

“Oh, just you know sweeter. I prefer it that way, some people don’t. You can try some if you want,” Blaine said, picking one out of the holder in the center of the table and holding it out to Kurt.

“Okay,” Kurt said reaching out and taking the packet from Blaine. He flipped it in his hand to read the label. Then, as though remembering something, he jolted, dropping the packet and reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “The coffees! You must have had to pay for mine; I’m sorry. I didn’t even think ab—“

“Kurt, it’s fine,” Blaine interrupted, “I’m more than happy to treat you to your first coffee.”

“No, I couldn’t. Here,” Kurt said holding out a twenty.

“Okay, one, I don’t know what kind of coffee you think you’re drinking but it doesn’t cost anywhere near that much,” Blaine said pushing Kurt hand holding the bill back at him. “Second, I want to treat you Kurt. Please, let me do this.”

Kurt drew his gaze to meet Blaine’s. As always Blaine was unprepared but glad for the rare chance to really look into his eyes, the ever changing vibrant colors, currently cool blue with confliction. He stared at Blaine for a long moment. “Okay,” he breathed. Then, with tangible and overwhelmingly sincere gratitude, “Thank you.” 

Blaine waved it off, trying to pretend that Kurt conceding didn’t making him as happy as it did. Him paying for Kurt’s coffee didn’t necessarily make it a date after all. Unfortunately.

Kurt turned his attention back to his coffee, picking up the sugar packet and stirring it in before taking an inquisitive sip.

His eyes widened, gaining back a little of the curious and wondrous light they often held that Blaine had become embarrassingly fond of. “Wow.”

Blaine let out a light laugh as Kurt reached out for another sugar packet, but he froze half way there, looking halfway over at Blaine. “Could I—I mean may—can I have another?”

Blaine raised an eyebrow, “Yeah of course, I always take two. My cousin Lea uses five, now that’s intense,” he laughed taking a sip of his coffee as Kurt poured another packet into his own. Once it was mixed he took a large swig and actually smiled for the first time since they’d reached the coffee shop.

“Well, obviously someone has a sweet tooth,” Blaine grinned, “I’ll be right back.”

Kurt watched him go, a little confused as to what he meant but too preoccupied with his new favorite drink to worry about it. 

Blaine returned a moment later, setting a small plate down on the table. “Ever tried biscotti?”

Kurt looked at the plate and shook his head.

“They’re a cookie that’s really good dipped in coffee of tea. Try one,” Blaine encouraged.

So Kurt did. And Blaine would swear Kurt’s eyes actually sparkled when he bit into the coffee soaked cookie. There was something beautifully youthful and uninhibited about the hurried way he dipped it back into his coffee for another bite.

Blaine leaned back in his chair and watched as Kurt gleefully consumed the coffee and biscotti. Oh yeah, coffee dates were definitely gonna be a regular thing.