Morning creeps up on them far too quickly. The sun’s rays are painfully bright and Kurt’s eyes are still sticky with sleep when Blaine’s alarm blares. Kurt snuggles up to the warm, sweet-smelling body next to him.

“Shut it off,” Kurt pleads, voice groggy.

Blaine does so and curls back around Kurt, spooning him against his front and lacing their fingers together around Kurt’s stomach.

“We should skip today,” Kurt suggests.

“I wish,” Blaine sighs in despair. “Your class has a test today, though. And another one of my classes does as well.”

“Perfect day for you to skip.”

“Maybe for me, but not for you, sleepyhead.”

“I’ll take a make-up test.”

“Not a chance.”

“But I’m sore all over!”

“The good kind of sore?” Blaine asks before pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of Kurt’s neck.

Kurt hums in appreciation. “The best kind of sore.”

Blaine smiles. Kurt can feel the curl of his lips against his skin.

“I need to text my dad,” Kurt eventually sighs.

“…And say what?”

“I’m going to tell him that you asked for help grading some extra assignments during your planning period, so I had to leave earlier than usual. He’ll think that’s why he missed me this morning. If he’s even awake. It’s his day off.”

“Sneaky.”

“I can be quite good at lying, when the situation calls for it.”

Blaine laughs easily. He gives the back of Kurt’s head one final kiss before he drags himself out of the bed.

“Uh…I’m probably going to need to borrow one of your shirts when I run out to get my clothes,” Kurt says. “You sort of…broke my top last night.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Blaine mumbles in apology, immediately digging through one of his dresser drawers to find something suitable.

He eventually tosses Kurt a sweatshirt, and points toward the open door.

“Coffee,” he yawns.

Kurt clutches the sweatshirt close to his chest as he watches Blaine saunter, stark naked, through the door and down the hall. He could get very used to such a view, he thinks, as he crawls out of bed and begins scrambling around the apartment for his clothes. Once he’s mostly dressed and out the door, he rushes over to his car and pops open the trunk, retrieving a gym bag full of spare clothes, hair products, and facial creams. He keeps it, of course, in case of the impromptu slushies at school, but he’s grateful that it comes in handy for an entirely different reason.

Grinning to himself, he darts back up the stairs to Blaine’s apartment, only to see Blaine pulling open the door before he can get there. His eyes are still bleary but he’s donned a pair of sweatpants, thank god, and has only one question:

“How much sugar in your coffee?”

Kurt laughs aloud, mostly at the site of Blaine’s horrid bed head, and shoves him back inside with a firm hand on his bare chest to keep him out of the winter chill.

“Stop worrying about the coffee, you’ll freeze your ass off out here!”

Kurt waits a few minutes in Blaine’s apartment, allowing him to leave first so he arrives at school earlier, which is usually the case any other day of the week. They both, however, had devised a plan to arrive earlier than most days so that Kurt can keep up the ruse of helping Blaine grade earlier in the morning, should any questions arise on that front.

When Kurt walks into Blaine’s classroom, a steaming mug of coffee and various essays litter his teacher’s desk, but Blaine is nowhere to be found. Shrugging, thinking that Blaine’s probably just in the bathroom or the staff lounge, he drops gingerly into his desk, careful not to jar the… more abused parts of his anatomy. To pass the time, he pulls a folder out of his book bag and begins studying for the test they have soon.

The minutes tick by, the sound of the clock suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Blaine doesn’t return.

After twenty minutes pass, Kurt begins to worry. Of course, there’s always the possibility that Blaine had to meet with another teacher or he’s being held up by another student.

But after more than half an hour, panic starts to settle in his stomach. He stands, creeping over to the classroom door to peer down the hallway. Nothing seems amiss until he glances in the other direction and, to his horror, sees two police officers entering the front doors of the school near the main office. Kurt slinks back inside, pressing himself against a wall. He inhales sharply.

Something is very, very wrong.

He has the urge to vomit, but he swallows the bile back down and forces himself to remain calm. There’s the possibility that he’s completely overreacting. The police officers could have nothing to do with Blaine. They could be entirely unrelated to their situation. Maybe someone finally found the pot in Puck’s locker or they’ve discovered the fact that the Skanks have been passing out acid to anyone willing to buy.

Sure. Right. Yes, there are dozens of other reasons why a couple of cops might be at school this morning. It’s just a coincidence that they’re here, after the one night Kurt had spent at Blaine’s apartment.

Coincidence.

Kurt swallows hard, allowing his feet to guide him back to his desk. When he sits again, he silently curses the ache in his lower body that reminds him of their night together. Last night seems like eons ago, as does the cup of coffee they shared over blueberry bagels. It seems like he can only barely remember stepping into Blaine’s shower this morning, only to be greeted with a kiss on the tip of his nose.

It seems like another life.

He jolts abruptly in his chair when the bell rings to signal the end of first period. Ducking his head, he focuses his eyes on the material he needs to study for the test, but his heart is beating ninety miles a minute inside his chest as the other students slowly trickle into the room.

Kurt prays to every deity he’s ever heard of. He just wants Blaine to walk through that door.

Please walk through that door. Run, if that’s what you have to do. Please, please just show up for class.

The seconds drag on and on and on. When the bell rings once more, Kurt’s heart drops into his stomach.

The other students are whispering all around him. He hears the words ‘police’ and ‘Mr. Anderson’ and he hears the phrase ‘with a student’. His name is nowhere to be heard amidst the gossip. Thank god for small favors.

Mr. Schuester walks through the door.

“Hey guys,” he greets in an easy manner, giving nothing away if knows anything at all. “Mr. Anderson’s held up right now, so I’m subbing for this period. I was told you guys are taking a test today so we’ll just get right to that.”

Many students groan in protest, as if they thought the absence of their teacher would mean the test was postponed. Kurt says nothing. He doesn’t even look at Mr. Schue. He simply grabs a pencil out of his bag and tucks away his notes.

Just as Mr. Schue finds the tests on Blaine’s desk, a knock sounds on the classroom door.

Kurt’s head snaps up to see Principal Figgins standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Schue,” he says with a nod. “Might I borrow Mr. Hummel?”

Mr. Schue looks abruptly uncomfortable at the idea.

“He’s about to start taking a test,” Mr. Schue states, eyeing Kurt curiously.

“I understand but ah…the matter is particularly urgent.”

Shrugging, Mr. Schuester gestures to the door. Without a word, Kurt replaces his pencil in his bag and stands, his legs feeling like jelly as they carry him away. Principal Figgins guides him out of the room with a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Is – is there – can you tell me what this is about?” Kurt asks, the words sounding like they’ve been dragged over gravel for a week.

“Just some confusion I’m sure,” the man replies, his words genial even through his thick accent. “Best to get it cleared up before this gets out of hand.”

“Oh. O-okay,” Kurt stutters.

He allows himself to be led down the hall and toward the office. Instead of going straight into the principal’s office, Figgins steers him to a door he’s never paid much attention to that leads to a room without the invasive glass walls. When Figgins pushes the door open, Kurt is, sadly, not surprised to see various people surrounding a long, rectangular table. The two police officers are standing on opposite sides of the room, but seated around the table are Miss Pillsbury, his father, Carole, Blaine, and, of all people, Dave Karofsky.

Principal Figgins urges Kurt to sit in between his dad and Carole, across from Blaine, Miss Pillsbury, and Karofsky, before taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Straight to business, I suppose,” Figgins says, folding his hands atop the table and looking directly at Miss Pillsbury.

The woman smiles awkwardly, looking to Kurt with something like sympathy in her big doe eyes.

“Kurt,” she begins, placing her palms flat on the table. She takes a moment and decides to straighten the papers in front of her instead. “Well, I guess there’s really no easy way to say this. A few…allegations have come to light. In regards to your relationship with Mr. Anderson.”

“What…sort of allegations?” Kurt asks warily, chancing a glance to Blaine, who’s gone completely pale and almost sickly.

“It seems that, um, David here claims that you and Mr. Anderson have been engaging in…inappropriate acts, ones that aren’t suited to healthy, student-teacher teacher conduct. As I’m sure you’re aware-”

“Wait,” Kurt says, holding up a hand to stop her from continuing. He internally praises himself for being an actor. “Are you talking about sex?”

“Th-that seems to be the case, I’m afraid.”

Kurt glares daggers at Karofsky, who looks quite similar to the cat that might have got the cream.

“And you trust the word of a boy who was, just last year, suspended on account of a death threat levied toward me out sheer spite and hatred?” Kurt asks, sure to keep an appropriate amount of rage in his voice which turns out to be entirely too easy, considering the person he’s dealing with. “The inner workings of this school astound me.”

“Mr. Hummel,” Figgins cuts in. “David has described, in detail, an instance in which he believes to have seen you and Mr. Anderson in an inappropriate situation.”

“Such as?”

“I…don’t think we can say…”

“I have the right to know what kind of allegations I’m up against. If they are, in fact, false, and I’m already claiming they are, I have the right to sue for slander,” Kurt states. He looks to one of the police officers. “Is that in any way correct?”

The officer nods. “Technically, yes,” he replies gruffly.

Kurt looks back to his principal. “And so?”

“Now, Mr. Hummel, as the minor party in this ordeal, you are not-”

“But I’m not a minor,” Kurt refutes instantly. “I turned eighteen in December. You’re accusing me as well in all this, not to mention a teacher I admire and respect. I won’t have you dragging his name in the dirt. So tell me what he said.”

Principal Figgins sighs, lowering his head and extending an arm toward Miss Pillsbury. The woman flushes pink and turns her attention to the documents on the table.

“It – it seems that David claims to have seen you exiting an apartment this morning in pajamas, retrieving a bag from your vehicle, and returning to the apartment to greet Mr. Anderson in the doorway. He claims to have seen Mr. Anderson sh-shirtless, as well as a brief interaction involving your hand on his chest before you went inside the apartment together,” she finishes, exhaling softly as if the retelling of such sordid events had been too much for her delicate sensibilities.

Kurt scowls at Karofsky once more.

“He saw no such thing,” Kurt states without hesitation.

“You liar!” Karofsky erupts, one fist banging on the table. “I saw you there, this morning!”

“I was at home this morning, you idiot,” Kurt spits back.

“No you weren’t!”

“Mr. Karofsky, please calm down,” one of the police officers orders before turning his attention to Burt. “Mr. Hummel? Can you corroborate your son’s story?”

“No,” Burt says plainly, “‘cause I was friggin’ asleep, wasn’t I? It’s my day off! Kurt sent me a text, though, tellin’ me he was leaving earlier than normal ‘cause Mr. Anderson asked Kurt to help him grade some extra papers or something.”

“Ma’am?” the officer prompts.

Carole looks flustered, Kurt thinks worriedly. “I didn’t see him leave,” she says slowly. “But his car was gone when I left for work. But Kurt likes to get coffee in the morning, so I figured he must have just been up early. My other son, Finn, was gone by that time, too.”

“And did you stop by the coffee shop this morning, Mr. Hummel?” the officer asks Kurt.

“No, I didn’t have time.”

“What time would you say you arrived at school this morning?”

“My off period is first period,” Kurt explains. “I probably got here not long after first period began. I went straight to Mr. Anderson’s classroom, as he’s my second period teacher and I was supposed to help him with his freshmen essays, but he wasn’t there. So I sat and studied for the test we’re having. The one I’m missing right now in order to deal with this bullsh-”

“Kurt,” Burt warns.

“- with this business.”

“So, if you arrived just after first period, your brother would have arrived before you, correct?” the officer asks.

“Yes,” Kurt says firmly.

“So he would have to leave before you, meaning he would have seen your car in the driveway.”

Shit.

“I guess,” Kurt says, though he does his theatrical best to not break character. “Though Finn’s not exactly the most perceptive person in the morning. He’s not usually fully awake until lunch time.”

“I think it’ll be best for everyone if we get him to answer a few questions as well,” the officer says, nodding to his partner across the room. “Mr. Figgins? Could you retrieve Mr…”

“Hudson,” Carole confirms.

“Thank you, Mr. Hudson, then. If you’ll pull him out of class, we should be able to settle this once and for all.”

Figgins nods, promptly exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

“I’m assuming Mr. Anderson’s testimony, for lack of a better word, matches mine?” Kurt asks with a bit too much sass. “There’s no reason it shouldn’t.”

“It does,” the other officer replies. “If it didn’t, we wouldn’t have to call in another witness. We’d have known something was wrong when your stories didn’t match up.”

“Understandable,” Kurt agrees.

He looks once more to Blaine, who still looks perfectly ill. Reasonable, under the circumstances, Kurt decides. If he wasn’t so great at acting, Kurt would probably be pissing himself right now.

Kurt just hopes that, for once in his life, Finn Hudson can lie and make it believable.

“I’m really sorry about all this, Mr. Anderson,” Kurt says grimly, putting an appropriate amount of concern in his voice. “You’re a good teacher. You shouldn’t have to worry about awful things like this, especially during your first year at McKinley.”

Blaine swallows hard and makes eye contact with Kurt for the first time during the entire meeting.

“It’s okay, Kurt. It’s not your fault.”

“Oh, it’s his fault all right,” Karofsky pipes up. “Sleeping with a teacher! It’s sick and wrong and-”

“Mister Karofsky, I suggest you remain silent for the rest of these proceedings!” the police officer barks.

“What, so they can talk and I can’t?” Karofsky argues.

“They are not in danger of being sued for slander,” the officer points out. “As you’re no longer a minor either, you’d best heed you words, lest the younger Mr. Hummel decides to take legal action against your accusations.”

Who’s the cat with the cream now, Kurt thinks smugly.

Karofsky snaps his jaw shut and glares at Kurt.

When the door opens to reveal Figgins as well as Finn, any trace of lingering smugness disappears in a flash. Instead, he resorts to staring at Finn as if he can plant a false memory in his brain through eye contact alone.

“Take a seat, Mr. Hudson.”

Finn sits at the opposite end of the table, looking completely shaken and scared out of his wits.

“What – what’s going on?” he asks timidly. “If this is about the candy bar I took from the lunch line the other day, I swear I told the lunch lady I’d pay her back today. I even have the money, look-”

“No, son, nothing to do with that. I’m sure you’ll pay the woman back just as you’d promised. We just need to ask you one simple question, Finn,” the officer behind Blaine says.

“Oh. Um…okay.”

“This morning, when you left for school, do you recall seeing Mr. Hummel’s vehicle in the driveway?”

“Uh…well it’s his day off, so yeah, his truck was there.”

Miss Pillsbury smothers a laugh beneath her thin hand. Burt frowns at her, immediately causing her expression to sober.

“Apologies,” the officer continues. “I meant the younger Mr. Hummel.”

“The younger – oh, you mean Kurt?” Finn asks.

“Yes. Do you remember seeing Kurt’s car in the driveway as you left for school?”

“Uh, well he usually parks on the curb, same as me,” Finn says, “so mom and Burt can park in the driveway. But you’re talking about this morning, right?”

“Yes,” the officer says, almost sounding like he’s losing patience with Kurt’s brother. “This morning.”

“Well, I mean I’m not really that awake in the mornings,” Finn prefaces, “but I -”

Thankfully, he meets Kurt’s eyes at the last minute. Kurt sits with his palms together, as if in prayer or pleading, pressing his fingers to his lips. He can only hope that he looks desperate enough to give Finn a clue.

Please lie. Please, just tell a lie and let it stick. Just be my fucking brother and lie for me. I’ve covered for you so many times. Every single time you sneak out to Rachel’s and you aren’t back in time for breakfast, I lie for you. Please, just lie for me this one time.

“Wait,” Finn says quickly.

Kurt holds his breath for a long, terrifying moment. When he chances a glance toward Blaine, he can see his boyfriend looking just as alarmed. The thing is that Finn doesn’t know what the truth is. He doesn’t know that Kurt needs him to say yes rather than no.

And so, with a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, Kurt nods his head while staring directly at his brother.

“Yeah,” Finn says at once. “Yeah, it was there. I remember because I almost ran into it. I’m not really coordinated, or at least that’s what Mr. Schuester says when I’m dancing in Glee club.”

Karofsky groans and slides his hands down his face in frustration. Kurt almost, almost feels bad for the boy. For once, he’s telling the truth, but he’s been outwitted at every turn.

But Kurt can’t bring himself to feel bad enough.

“Thank you, Mr. Hudson, you can leave,” the officer says, officially releasing Finn. “You can leave as well, Mr. Karofsky. There’s nothing left for you to say.”

“But they’re lying!” Dave explodes. “I saw him, I saw both of them!”

“Mr. Hummel has a witness to his whereabouts this morning, making your statement obsolete.”

“But-”

“You’re done here,” the officer states, allowing no room for the misinterpretation of his words. “Thank you.”

Karofsky fumes for a few seconds, going completely red in the face before he smashes a fist on the table once more and shoves himself away from it. He follows Finn out, slamming the door behind him.

The police officer shakes his head and returns his attention to those remaining around the table.

“I’m very sorry about that,” he begins, “but I do have a few more questions. Formalities, in this case, as your parents have already stated that you’ve been given permission to go to Mr. Anderson’s home.”

“When did they say that?” Kurt wonders.

“Before you were pulled from class. We had to know if they knew anything about your contact with Mr. Anderson outside of school.”

“Oh. Well, I help him grade, obviously, and he gives me piano lessons. And he came over for dinner to meet my parents last night, so-”

“Yes, they’ve said as much. Gave shining character references as well.”

“Okay…so what’s left to ask?” Kurt inquires.

“As your both legally adults, we have to ask, outright, whether or not you’ve been engaging in inappropriate relations. Mr. Karofsky’s apparently false allegations aside, we need you to answer truthfully in order for any type of charges to be dropped. Either way, if there is a relationship, it needs to end as it’s illegal. Even if you’re eighteen, it’s against the law for you to be in a relationship with a teacher at the school you attend.”

“So…no lie detector test or anything like that?” Kurt asks warily.

“No,” the officer replies, smiling indulgently. “Nothing like that. Just the question. Are you or are you not engaged in any type of relationship with Mr. Anderson that the school or the state might deem inappropriate?”

“No, I’m not.” Kurt says immediately. “He’s just my teacher.”

“Thank you. Mr. Anderson? Are you or are you not engaged in any type of relationship with Kurt Hummel that the school or the state might deem inappropriate?”

Silence meets Kurt’s ears.

No, Kurt thinks in a panic. Don’t you dare. Not after everything we just went through.

Blaine’s head hangs in dejection. Shit. Kurt knows that Blaine has had reservations in regards to the illegality of their entire situation in the past, but there’s no way he could feel enough guilt to ruin his entire career. There’s no way, not after what they did last night, not after what they finally admitted.

Don’t do this. I love you. Don’t think of yourself the way you did before last night.

“No, I’m not,” Blaine says, echoing Kurt’s statement. “He’s just my student.”

Kurt sighs heavily in relief, his pulse finally returning to a normal rate for the first time in the past hour or so.

“Then we’re done here,” the officer says, straightening his stance. “Principal Figgins, we believe the allegations here are completely false and see no reason why any disciplinary or legal action should be taken. It is our recommendation that Mr. Anderson be allowed to continue as a member of your staff, though it is the school board’s right to take other actions should they please.”

Kurt doesn’t really think there’s much of a ‘we’ to this whole issue, considering he never heard the other officer utter a word. And what exactly does the phrase ‘other actions’ imply?

He doesn’t voice his question until the police officers are gone.

“What – what other actions?” he asks. “I mean, the charges are dropped and the accusations are false. What else can be done?”

“The school board has the right to ask Mr. Anderson to resign,” Principal Figgins explains. “They cannot take disciplinary action, such as suspension or revoking his teaching license, since there will be no charges on his record.”

“But they won’t ask him to, will they?” Kurt asks in dread. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It’s highly unlikely as the school year will come to an end in a few, short months,” Figgins say before looking to Blaine. “There is a possibility that they might not renew your contract for next year, Blaine. You know your first year is a trial period to see how well you work with our staff and students. This ordeal might pit them against a renewal.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaine replies, all emotion having disappeared from his voice.

Kurt almost pipes up against that little nugget of information, but as they plan on leaving for New York next school year anyway, he decides against it.

“Well!” Figgins claps his hands. “I’m glad to see that situation dealt with. I think it might be best for both of you to take the rest of the day off. It’s been a trying morning. I’ll call in a substitute for the remainder of your classes, Mr. Anderson. Miss Pillsbury? I think I saw a student waiting outside of your office when I went to pull Mr. Hudson from his class.”

The quirky guidance counselor flees without another word while Principal Figgins shakes hands and bids farewell to Kurt’s dad and Carole. Kurt stands in preparation to leave. Blaine, on the other hand, remains frozen in his seat. Kurt wishes he could comfort him somehow, even just a hand on his shoulder. But after all this, he thinks that’s probably not the best idea.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s go home,” his father says, urging him out the door.

Just before Kurt rounds the corner, he glances back to see Blaine sliding a hand over his pale face.

“Well that was fun,” Burt remarks as they walk through the front door of their home. “Didn’t think I’d have to deal with that on my day off.”

“Sorry, dad,” Kurt apologizes, making a bee line for the kitchen in order to make them all a fresh pot of coffee.

“Not your fault,” Burt grumbles, leaning against the counter. “It’s that kid again. I don’t know why that boy has it out for you, Kurt, but it’s getting dangerous.”

“Mmm,” Kurt mumbles in reply. “Carole, will you hand me a filter?”

His step-mother hands him a coffee filter wordlessly.

“Suing for slander doesn’t sound like a bad idea at this point,” Burt continues. “Might put the boy in his place since no one else seems to be able to.”

“He’s just troubled, Burt,” Carole says. “It’s obvious he has some kind of anger issue. I don’t think we need to take him to court to prove it.”

“Maybe,” Burt huffs.

Kurt says nothing in response. He simply flicks on the coffee maker and stares at the pot without any real focus. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he gazes at the screen and suppresses a sigh.

Still no call or text from Blaine.

“You’re quiet about all this,” Burt says. “Big change, after the way you argued in that room.”

“Rough morning,” Kurt says offhandedly.

“I guess,” Burt cedes. “Though I gotta wonder what Finn owes you in exchange for lying his head off.”

Kurt whips his head around to stare directly at his father, narrowing his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he hisses.

“Burt,” Carole warns. “Don’t. Not now.”

“Can’t think of a better time,” Burt states. “Finn may not be my son by blood, but he’s my son by choice and if you think I can’t tell when the kid’s lying, you’re seriously mistaken. Those two cops might not have been table to tell, but I could. And I know Carole did, too.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Carole says sternly.

“Your teacher, Kurt?” Burt prompts, sounding resigned and slightly disappointed. “How in the hell – what were you thinking?”

“I’m going to bed,” Kurt says in a hard voice. “This whole thing is making me ill.”

“It should!” Burt shouts, as if he’s near the end of his tether. “The man almost lost his job! He could’ve been thrown in jail!”

“I don’t know if you were in the same room I was, but the charges were dropped!” Kurt hollers back.

“Because your brother lied for you, destroying whatever evidence they might have had against the two of you.”

“Finn didn’t even know what was going on!” Kurt argues. “He thought it was about some stupid candy bar! How could I get him to lie for me that well if he didn’t even know what the truth was in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” Burt says levelly. “But you did. Somehow, you did.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Mr. Anderson! How many times do I have to say that before you believe me? The police did!”

“The police don’t factor into this,” Burt counters. “You both denied the accusations and without evidence, since you’re technically an adult, they had no reason to investigate whether it was consensual or not. They just needed to hear that it didn’t happen so they could be on their merry way.”

Kurt’s blood boils, anger simmering beneath his skin as he wrenches the cabinet open to grab a travel coffee mug. He fills the cup with the fresh coffee and stirs in a bit of sugar, all in silence.

“Just tell me the truth, Kurt,” Burt sighs in frustration. “I won’t – It’s not like I’m gonna crucify the guy. I met him, remember? He seems decent enough. I just don’t want to hear you lie anymore.”

“I’m going out,” Kurt states, screwing on the lid to the coffee mug.

“You’re – what?”

“I can’t be here right now,” Kurt says flatly.

“You’re not on friggin’ vacation, Kurt! This is serious!”

“So ground me,” Kurt challenges. “But I’m going out. And I’m going to visit Mr. Anderson. He nearly lost his job because of me, as you’re taking so much effort to remind, and he’s probably at home alone freaking out about this whole thing.”

“You can’t-”

“Burt,” Carole says softly. “Just let him go.”

His father clenches his fists at his sides, but storms off in the direction of the stairs without another word. Kurt nods to Carole, thinking he probably owes her just as much as he owes Finn at this point.

Upon arriving at Blaine’s front door, Kurt can’t help but glance about nervously, wary of any other onlookers. The door opens and Kurt isn’t surprised to see Blaine standing in the doorway, barefoot, clad in a pair of old sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt.

“What’re you doing here?” Blaine asks softly.

While Kurt isn’t surprised at his appearance, he is surprised to find that Blaine’s breath reeks of alcohol.

“Well, seeing as you were nearly thrown in jail because of me, I figured I might stop by and see how you’re holding up.”

Blaine doesn’t reply. With a roll of his eyes, Kurt shoves past him into the apartment without an invitation.

“It’s not even noon yet, Blaine,” he remarks when he sees a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. “I didn’t know mornings were an opportunity to get falling-down drunk.”

“I only took a few drinks,” Blaine informs, closing the door before slumping down on his sofa, a blank look in his eyes. “I think I had good enough reason.”

Kurt sighs, cocking his hip and crossing his arm in defiance, as if Blaine’s being completely unreasonable. He’s not, really. Blaine probably needed a few drinks just to regain the color in his face after this morning’s proceedings.

“You look like shit,” Kurt says honestly. “Which is quite a feat, considering I saw you looking perfectly put together not even an hour ago. Not to mention, I know for a fact you showered this morning, since I joined you and all.”

“Don’t,” Blaine replies wearily, head lolling back on the sofa while his face screws up in some expression that looks to resemble pain. “Just don’t, Kurt.”

“Don’t what?”

“What were we thinking?” Blaine asks with sorrow in his eyes. “We can’t do this anymore. We never should’ve done this in the first place.”

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to you groan about how much of a monster you think you are. Not after last night.”

“You’re at perfect liberty to leave, then, aren’t you?” Blaine snaps in reply, sorrow turning to irritation.

“Blaine,” Kurt says tiredly. “You don’t have to-”

“It’s over,” Blaine declares. “It’s over.”

“Listen,” Kurt returns, hoping he sounds diplomatic enough, “we just have wait and let this blow over. By the end of the week, it’ll be yesterday’s news and everyone will have forgotten this whole thing. And I won’t stay over anymore, of course. That was a stupid idea in the first place. But we can-”

“The entire thing was a stupid idea in the first place,” Blaine growls. “It’s over, Kurt. How many times do I have to say it? We’re not doing this again. Not ever again.”

Kurt gapes in horror at the man on the sofa. He doesn’t even know this person.

“But-”

“He saw us!” Blaine shouts, leaping up from the sofa and rounding the coffee table. “He saw us this morning and he knows it! And you had Finn lie to get around it! I don’t know how you did it, but you did, and now David’s just going to be pissed off that we maneuvered everything. You think he’s just going to sit back and let things slide? Well he won’t! The entire school probably knows what happened by now!”

“They dropped the charges!” Kurt shrieks, clinging to that fact with desperation. “Nothing’s going to happen! As long as we keep denying it, they can’t do anything to us, okay?”

“I might not be going to jail and they may not be firing me straight away, but I know, with something close to certainty, that I won’t be returning to teach here next year.”

“Well that doesn’t matter, does it?” Kurt asks. “Because you’re coming to New York with me anyway. And there won’t be anything on your record so there’s nothing to stop you from teaching anywhere else.”

“If you honestly think I’m going to follow you around the country like a lapdog, you’re seriously deluded, Kurt.”

Kurt pales.

“W-what?”

“You heard me,” Blaine states, venom in his eyes. “Now please leave. No more lessons, no more helping me grade, nothing. Just leave.”

“It’s just – it’s just a few more months,” Kurt stammers. “We can just wait it out. We don’t – we won’t see each other outside of school, if that’s what you want. We can-”

“What I want is for you to realize that this was all just one huge mistake and stay out of my life!”

“Stop it!” Kurt pleads, cursing the tears that gather in his eyes. “I know what you’re doing!”

“I’m telling you the truth, unlike your idiot brother who can somehow read your mind!”

“Don’t insult Finn!” Kurt shouts. “He kept you out of jail!”

“Yes, of course,” Blaine drawls, crossing his arms defensively in front of his thin chest. “Sweet, kind, wonderful Finn who had the balls to lie to a pair of cops in order to save your cowardly lover from a life behind bars.”

“You’re not a coward! Don’t get all smarmy about the one person who saved your fucking job. You were barely holding up under the pressure in there and Finn-”

“It’s over, Kurt!” Blaine yells, slicing his hands through thin air as if a physical representation of his words might force Kurt to understand the gravity of the situation.

“No, it isn’t! You’re just scared-”

“Still not a coward, then?” Blaine sasses.

“Stop it! Stop twisting my words to suit your agenda!”

“I don’t know how to be any clearer,” Blaine growls. “I do not want to be in a relationship with you. The entire thing was a mistake. I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t want to spend time with you anymore. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You’re lying,” Kurt says, tears falling freely now. “It wasn’t – nothing was a mistake. Last night wasn’t a mistake. You said that – you told me you loved me.”

Blaine laughs loudly, the sound vicious and vile in the space of the room.

“Fucking Christ, you really are a child, aren’t you?” Blaine asks with a malicious grin, his words like poison to Kurt’s ears. “I lied to you, darling. How many times do you think I’ve told someone I loved them, hm? Plenty, so long as it gets them on their knees.”

“Stop it,” Kurt says once more, the continual phrase causing his nerves to fray at the edges.

“I would’ve fucked you first chance I got, right over my desk, if I knew I could keep my job in the end. But no, you were so very innocent. Never even been kissed properly. So I turned to romance, tedious though it was, until you gave it up. They’re mine now, don’t you realize? Every last one of your firsts, and they’re all mine.”

Kurt’s chest heaves, fury coursing through every single vein in response to Blaine’s cruel words.

“Guess it’s a good thing we got caught,” Blaine continues airily. “Now I won’t have to pretend like you weren’t the worst fuck I’ve ever had.”

A sharp smack echoes through the air as the palm of Kurt’s hand collides with Blaine’s cheek, causing his head to snap to the side in one of the most violent displays Kurt has ever witnessed.

Blaine’s hand rises slowly to touch his abused face. He works his jaw as if making sure it still functions properly.

“At least you can land a blow,” Blaine mumbles.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Blaine Anderson. You’re being intentionally nasty in hopes that your vicious words will break my heart and make me accept that you’re breaking up with me. Well it won’t work. I’m not that easy to manipulate, you bastard.”

“I’m being intentionally nasty so you’ll go and leave me in peace!”

“I know and I won’t!”

“Damnit, Kurt, just go!”

“I told you that I wouldn’t abandon you! Not at graduation, not in the Fall when I go off to college, and certainly not now!

“Look at me!” Blaine shouts, grasping Kurt’s shoulders and giving his body a firm shake. “I’m a fucking wreck, okay! I’m losing my god damn mind! I’m a complete and utter mess inside and it’s all your fault! I can’t – I can’t even think straight anymore. I fell in love with a teenager. You’re just a boy! Can’t you understand how horrible that makes me feel? You haven’t even lived yet and I took everything from you. Ever since – god, even in the beginning. I wanted you. I wanted you before I knew I loved you and it makes me absolutely ill, just thinking about how much I wanted you back then. And now – the police and almost losing my job – I can’t do it anymore. It hurts.”

Kurt’s anger fades, guilt creeping in at the edge of his conscience. “Turning me away isn’t going to make it better,” he whispers. “You told me that you enjoyed being around me and that you’ve never had this before. You’re happy with me. I know you are. I make you happy.”

Blaine’s limbs lose their strength and he drops down to sit on the coffee table behind him. His eyes get this far-away look about them, his lips part as if he doesn’t even have the energy to keep his own jaw shut.

“You do,” he surrenders. “You do make me happy.” He pauses and stares up at Kurt with hollow eyes, like his soul withered away inside his body in the blink of an eye. “But for all that, you make me just as miserable.”

Knees nearly buckling beneath him, Kurt’s breath leaves him in a rush. Blaine had yelled at him, declared him a naïve child, said he was horrible in bed, and said he didn’t want anything to do with him.

But Kurt knows that Blaine doesn’t believe any of that. It’s all nonsense, as far as he’s concerned. It was all just strategy; a last-ditch attempt to force Kurt out of his life and leave him no reason to return.

This, though, this talk of misery, this is true. This isn’t manipulation or misdirection.

Kurt never meant to make the man miserable. Misery is awful. Misery is like a wound that never, ever heals. It’s like a gaping hole in your heart that can’t ever be filled. Misery is hell. Misery isn’t even a piece on the chessboard. And if Kurt can’t give Blaine enough happiness or enough love to outweigh such horror, such pain, such guilt…

Then he simply cannot, in good conscience, stay.

“I – I never meant to make you feel so…terrible,” Kurt says softly, taking a physical step backward.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t,” Kurt immediately stops him, though his voice wavers with the statement. “Don’t apologize for anything. Not even for any of that stuff you said earlier. I’m – I’ll go. I’ll go and you won’t ever have to see me again except for class. Don’t even both calling on me during lectures. I won’t do that to you. Just – please don’t fail me. You promised me you wouldn’t, no matter how messy the break-up. I have to get out of this town and if you fail me-”

“I won’t,” Blaine swears.

Sighing in relief, Kurt suddenly realizes, in this moment, exactly how much power Blaine has over him. He has the ability to make Kurt’s life a living hell, similar to the misery in which Blaine himself is trapped. He can fail Kurt, despite his promise. Not only that, but Kurt knows now, with everything they’ve shared, his life won’t ever be the same.

And it isn’t because Blaine ripped away his innocence or took advantage of his youth or turned him sour for the rest of eternity. It’s because Kurt is so deeply in love with the man, in spite of everything that happened today, that he won’t ever forget the time they’ve spent together.

He knows, as of right now, that no other man will ever hold a candle to Blaine Anderson. Not in this lifetime.

Kurt turns, heading for the door. Over his shoulder, he leaves Blaine with one final soliloquy, a caveat of sorts; one final attempt to salvage what he knows is mutual heartbreak.

Because he knows now that he’s ruined Blaine as much as Blaine has ruined him.

“I love you. I don’t expect I’ll stop loving you anytime soon. I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear it. If you can ever – ever forgive me for making you feel so…well, you know where I’ll be after graduation. If you can’t, I understand. I don’t expect you to. But just know that – that I gave you everything for a reason. You didn’t take anything from me. I gave it, of my own free will, because I wanted you to have it. So…you still have it. You still have all of me.”

And with that, Kurt leaves.

He doesn’t go home right away. Kurt can’t bear the look of disappointment or suspicion on his father’s face. Instead, he drives around to nowhere in particular, through a neighboring county and back, just to give himself something to do.

His chest feels empty. If Blaine was miserable with Kurt, then Kurt can safely say he is equally miserable without Blaine. It hasn’t even been two hours since they ended things, and already Kurt feels like his world is shattering into a billion, dull pieces.

No more kissing.

No more comfortable silences.

No more afternoons spent inside watching old movies while it snows.

No more giggling when he teases Blaine about his height.

No more touching.

No more talking.

No more…Blaine.

It’s Mr. Anderson now, isn’t it? For the rest of the school year, if not forever, it’s only Mr. Anderson. Kurt’s going to have to get used to that, not calling him Blaine in his head.

He’s just a teacher now, and Kurt is just his student.

Kurt doesn’t allow himself to cry until he’s safely parked in front of his house. Only then does he give his body over to the sobs stuck in his throat and trembling quiver in his weak, yet heavy shoulders.

When Kurt leaves Blaine’s apartment, the silence is entirely too loud. Blaine shoves what he can of his fist in his mouth, teeth digging into his skin as he squeezes his eyes shut. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts to be alone. It’s pure agony. If he thought he was miserable before, this is just – just awful. This is worse than misery. This is torture.

It’s supposed to get better, Blaine thinks. He’s supposed to feel a burden lift, knowing he doesn’t have to worry about breaking the law or stealing what’s left of Kurt’s youth.

I gave it, of my own free will, because I wanted you to have it.

Maybe he did. Maybe Kurt did give Blaine everything of his own free will, without hesitation, without persuasion, without ill intent.

But when he offered it, he did so as if he were handing over a fragile baby bird in the palm of a child’s hand. He did so without saying, “I trust you to take care of this.”

And Blaine broke it.

He had wanted, so desperately, to take care of the delicate gift Kurt had given him so freely. He had wanted to be nothing but a light in Kurt’s life, a source of good in the world when they had both seen so much hatred. He had wanted that future with him. He still does, truth be told. He can still see himself with Kurt in New York, strolling hand in hand through Central Park.

Why can’t he just give himself over to everything he wants? Kurt’s right. The year’s almost over. And they can leave this all behind and live their life. Why can’t he just let himself have something good? Why can’t he ignore his stupid father’s wishes and make his own choices for once in his sorry excuse of a life?

Yes. Okay. Kurt is young. But a seven or eight year gap isn’t that much of a difference, not in the grand scheme of things, not really. And age is just a number, when you’re both legal anyway.

So…why is he so scared? Why is Blaine doing everything in his power to keep Kurt at bay?

To keep Kurt safe? To keep himself safe?

Because he’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, wrapped in love and shrouded in gold, and that terrifies the shit out of you.

“Oh, god,” Blaine groans aloud. “You weren’t even supposed to exist.”

It hasn’t even been a full hour since they parted ways and Blaine already feels like Kurt’s ghost is following him around.

Why are you haunting me?

“I’m sorry about your car.”

Kurt looks up from his dinner plate to stare at his brother. He hadn’t made eye contact with anyone since he arrived home, but now he finds he can’t look away from Finn’s confused expression.

“What?” he asks.

“Or, almost sorry,” Finn amends. “Since I almost walked into it. Or, at least I think I did. I can’t really remember. I guess I’m glad I didn’t, you know, ‘cause you probably would have yelled at me about chipping the paint or being big enough to make a dent or something.”

Kurt gazes at his brother in fascination.

Is he actually –

Does he really think –

Finn.

Goofy, gullible, completely fucking oblivious Finn.

Bursting into laughter, Kurt finds he can’t seem to stop the giggles from coming. After the events of today, he had really needed a good laugh. Trust his silly brother to give him that, as well as keep Bla – Mr. Anderson out of jail.

With that thought, Kurt immediately sobers.

Burt is glaring at him.

“Doesn’t seem nice to laugh at your brother after the amazing performance he gave in that room today,” Burt grumbles in annoyance.

“Just stop, dad. Please. I can’t – not today. I can’t deal with this today.”

“It might make you feel better if you just told me the truth.”

“I gave a performance?” Finn asks blankly.

“Ignore him, Finn,” Kurt advises. “He’s just in a foul mood because he was dragged out of the house for no good reason on his day off.”

“I still don’t even know why you guys were there,” Finn remarks. “What was going on? I mean, I heard some people talking today, but – that stuff – it sounds like the stuff I was, um, saying before Mr. Anderson came over to dinner. So I know that’s not true.”

Kurt remains silent.

“Why don’t you ask your brother?” Burt suggests, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Burt, we said we weren’t going to pressure him,” Carole reminds.

“Finn’s the one that wants to know,” Burt points out. “Why don’t you give him the truth? I think he deserves it after how well he covered for you.”

Shooting a livid look in his father’s direction, Kurt relaxes his expression and turns back to Finn.

“That’s what the meeting was about,” Kurt confirms. “Karofsky made some accusations, along the lines that you were thinking a few days ago, and tried to get Mr. Anderson in trouble. They had to ask us both if the accusations were false, which we confirmed.”

“Come on, Kurt,” Burt jeers. “You gotta give him more than that. Go on, tell him what that Karofsky kid said. It’s why Finn was brought in, wasn’t it?”

“Why are you being so cruel to me?” Kurt demands to know. “I’ve never known you to force me to discuss something I didn’t want to discuss. This isn’t like you at all!”

“And it isn’t like you to lie to me!” Burt hollers back.

“Finn, come here,” Carole says abruptly, reaching into her pocket to dig out a ten dollar bill. “Take this and go out for ice cream with Rachel.”

“She’s a vegan,” Finn says despondently. “She only eats that sorbet stuff.”

“I’m sure you can find something.”

“But I’m not even done with din-”

Carole cuts off any further protests by handing him another ten dollar bill. “Just go.”

“Okay! See ya, Kurt! Don’t get grounded!”

Finn’s off like a shot. When he’s finally out the door and gone, Kurt shoots Carole a grateful look.

“We don’t lie to each other, kid,” Burt says, temper having calmed a bit. “Yeah, there was that weird phase you went through when you kept trying to make me think you were straight, but that wasn’t lying. That was you trying to change yourself because you thought that’s what I wanted. And there was all that stuff with that Karofsky kid last year, but you never really lied. You just said there weren’t any problems at school ‘cause you were afraid I’d get sick again. But this? This is just – Kurt,” he sighs, yanking off his baseball cap in frustration. “You were right. I was being pretty damn mean. I’m sorry. I am, but - I’m your dad. I’m still gonna love you in the morning. I just want you to be honest with me.”

For some reason, his father’s soft, understanding tones infuriate him more than his outright rage.

Kurt groans, looking up to the sky as if asking for patience to deal with a particularly obnoxious child.

“I’m not in a relationship with Mr. Anderson,” he says for the umpteenth time.

It’s strange to realize that there’s more pain than there is relief at the thought of his words finally being true.

“Honey,” Carole says kindly, “your dad and I talked. You’re not going to get in trouble for it. And we’re not going to press charges against him or anything so horrible. But if it’s true, we need to talk about it because we need to know that you didn’t go into this against your will.”

“I’m eighte-”

“We know you’re of legal age,” she continues. “But as parents, that doesn’t so much matter to us as it does to the police. We just need to talk it out to make sure that you’ve both really thought this through. If you haven’t, things could get out of hand again, like this morning. And we don’t want that for either of you.”

Where were you when I needed you before, Kurt thinks sadly.

You thought they wouldn’t understand. You had to keep it secret, his conscience reminds him.

“I can’t,” Kurt says weakly, at the end of his resolve. He feels like an egg they’re slowly cracking open, wanting him to put everything on display to view and analyze. And he’s just so tired. All he wants to do is sleep for a month and forget about the teacher that altered his view of the world.

“Damnit, Kurt,” Burt swears. “You’re not gonna get in any trouble and neither is he! But if you’ve been going behind my back, sneakin’ off to do god knows what with this guy, I think I have the right to know!”

“You don’t have any right!” Kurt explodes. “I’m eighteen and I’m legally allowed to make my own choices!”

“You can vote if you want, or join the army, or flush your credit score down the drain, for all I care! But you live under my roof and you follow my rules!”

“So what, you’re going to kick me out?” Kurt sneers.

“Of course I’m not gonna kick you out. What are you, high? I might not kick you out, but I sure as hell can stop paying for your cell phone bill and your car insurance and your doctor’s appointments and-”

“Oh, so you’re going to stop me from staying healthy if I don’t tell you what you want to hear?”

“I’m saying,” Burt growls, “that I’m your dad. And you’ve trusted me to raise you and take care of you for eighteen years. So why can’t you trust me with this?”

“Kurt,” Carole suddenly says, eyes going wide as saucers. “Did you – are you not willing to tell us because you – because it started…before you were eighteen?”

Fuck. Fate would make Carole far more perceptive than her son at the least opportune moment.

Kurt can literally feel the color drain from his face. His breathing turns shallow, panic settles in his bones, and he can practically feel his conscience curl up in some dark corner of his mind to make way for his shame and guilt.

“Oh, honey…”

“Christ, Kurt,” his father sighs in disbelief. “You better be glad the cops didn’t know about that, otherwise your teacher would be screwed beyond belief.”

Something in Kurt snaps upon hearing their reactions to the implication. Wild, untamed fear and outrage bubble up in his throat and he’s – he’s only human, for god’s sake! He can only take so much before he breaks! And they’re already freaking assuming it anyway! What good is a lie when it’s all over? Because it’s over. Completely over and – and - this is shit, everything in his life right now is just complete and utter shit!

“Fine!” Kurt shouts, jarring the table with his legs as he shoots to his feet. “You want to know the truth? You’re not going to like it! In fact, you’re going to hate it because it’s all my fault!”

“Wait, kid, calm-”

“No!” Kurt argues, stress and tension causing his limbs to shudder. “This is what you wanted, so you’re just going to sit there!”

“Kurt, we can-”

“Finn lied! He lied during the questioning because he looked at me and I nodded! I wasn’t here this morning. I wasn’t here all night! I was at Blaine’s – oh, excuse me, I mean Mr. Anderson’s. I was at his place all night long and you want to know what we were doing? Just in the interest of full disclosure? We were having sex, dad. It was my first time and it was great. And we had sex because we’ve been in a relationship since I was 17, around the end of October,” he reveals with a flourish. “But you’ll be happy to know that we were perfectly chaste until the day I turned eighteen. And for a while after that, too. Everything was consensual. He didn’t force me to date him. If anything, I was the one to convince him in the beginning.”

Carole remains frozen, a few fingers covering her lips so she doesn’t speak out of turn. His dad, however, looks like he might have swallowed something that was still alive and wriggling.

“So there was – I mean, before you turned eighteen-”

“It took everything he had just to kiss me on the cheek,” Kurt informs. “We didn’t kiss until my birthday and nothing of…that nature happened until after Christmas so – oh.”

“Oh?” his father prompts, as if he’s surprised there’s something else that might shock him more.

Kurt slumps back down into his chair, the fight having gone out of his limbs. He grimaces when his sore body collides with the chair.

Carole’s face turns red.

“Oh, don’t even,” he grumbles in reply to her embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she mutters, looking as though she has to stifle a snort of amusement.

“Oh, what?” Burt prompts again, still waiting for Kurt to finish.

“Well, since we’re just laying it all out,” Kurt says. “There was a weekend just after Christmas when I told you I was staying at a friend’s house. I…didn’t. I went to Columbus with Bl – Mr. Anderson.”

“Just call the guy Blaine,” his father says decisively. “It makes me less ill.”

Lucky for you, Kurt thinks.

“We got a hotel and spent the night in the city. It – it was the only real date we ever had.”

“Wait,” Burt says, holding up a hand. “So whenever you said you were going out with friends, you were really going to see him?”

“No, it was just that one time. I never saw him on the weekends, otherwise. And we only every spent time together outside of school under the guise of the piano lessons. And they were piano lessons. Well, they were in the beginning. That’s, um, how it all started.”

“I didn’t know students seduced their teachers during piano lessons.”

“There was very little seduction involved.”

“I don’t get it,” his father says flatly.

“…Don’t get what?”

“If you were just there for piano lessons, how’d all this student-teacher, inappropriate, mamby pamby come up?

“I don’t think anyone uses that phrase in modern society anymore, dad.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Burt,” Carole levels. “How else do you think it started?”

“Well I don’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked!”

“They talked, honey,” Carole explains in exasperation. “And they got to know each other. Same as everyone else.”

“Well I know they had to talk,” Burt replies, though he ducks his head in slight embarrassment. “I just didn’t know they talked about more than music stuff.”

“We talked about everything,” Kurt admits softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Burt asks, giving Kurt a suspicious look.

“Oh, would you stop jumping to the worst conclusions!” Carole says with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s not like I understand all this!”

“No, you’re deliberately trying not to understand,” Kurt says. “Because you’re mad that I lied to you about something so big. We talked about life, dad. We talked about our families and our pasts and the things that scare us and the things we like. We both like blueberry bagels and we both like coffee. He can’t cook anything at all, but he bakes really good cupcakes. He likes to listen to popular songs and turn them into acoustic versions so he can play them on the piano. We both like old movies and cuddling on the couch. He resents his older brother, though he won’t say as much out loud, and the only reason he became an English teacher was to please his father. That’s what we talk about. It’s the same kind of stuff other couples talk about, okay? We’re just – we’re just people.”

It’s just what we do. We’re people, Blaine. We’re just people.

The sudden memory makes Kurt’s heart ache.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Kurt continues. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said there’s nothing going on between us. I was this morning, but not now. He – he broke up with me when I went to see him today. So it’s over. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Well at least one of you has a good head on your shoulders,” Burt mumbles.

“Burt Hummel, would stop being so pissy for ten seconds and take a moment to look at your son! I mean, really look at him! He’s just been through his first break up and you’re acting like it’s a blessing when he’s heartbroken!”

If Carole hasn’t already won a mother-of-the-year award, Kurt will make damn sure that she gets one this year.

As it is, Kurt knows exactly what they see when they look at him: sunken eyes, pallid skin, tension in his shoulders, and horrible sense of despair floating around him like a black cloud.

Burt clears his throat. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I know it’s rough.”

“You know there will be other people, right?” Carole asks gently. “You’ll go to college and you’ll make new friends and you’ll find someone else.”

“That’s what makes it so hard,” Kurt tries to explain. “I know I’ll meet new people. And I know I’ll date other people and have serious relationships with other people and hell, I might even get married to someone one day.”

“You’ll get married,” Burt assures. “Even if you stay in Ohio. I’ll fight until they let you.”

Kurt smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you would. And that means a lot.”

“First loves are a hard thing,” Carole says.

“It’s more than that,” Kurt sighs. “I know you both think that’s just my youth talking, or maybe the break up. But I can’t – even if I fall for someone else, it won’t ever be the same. And I don’t mean same, as in you never really get over your first love. I mean it won’t be the same because it won’t be Blaine. He’s just…it.”

“You don’t think he’s ‘it’ because he just happens to be the one in your life now?” Carole wonders.

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “He’s it because he’s loving and kind and understanding and patient. He’s it because I’m stubborn as hell and willing to stop at nothing and he’s there to reel me back in when I get in over my head. He’s it because he makes me feel like I’m on top of the world even though I’ve barely seen any of it. He’s it because his head fits perfectly right under my chin when we dance barefoot in his living room. He’s it because I love him and he makes me happy.”

“And you don’t believe you’ll find someone else that has all those qualities?” Carole asks.

“They might come close,” Kurt says. “But they still won’t smell like him or have his smile. And I know I’ll be looking for him in every person I meet from here on out.”

Burt groans aloud.

“And just what’re you growling about?” Carole bites out, under the impression that Kurt’s dad is simply bored with all the lovey-dovey talk.

“‘Cause it sounds like they might actually love each other,” Burt sighs in resignation. “Anderson might as well have said the same kind of crap when he was over here for dinner, even if he was going on and on about respect. Thinkin’ back on it, he looked at you the same way you look when you’re thinkin’ about him. Friggin’ head over heels.”

“And there’s something wrong with that?” Kurt wonders.

“It’d make it easier if you weren’t,” Burt says in all honesty. “But now I gotta go and talk to the idiot.”

“No,” Kurt says immediately. “Don’t go talk to him. He doesn’t need that. He has enough problems as it is, and I’m the biggest one. He’s going to have to see me in school every day, and that’s reminder enough.”

“Boy better not fail you over all this!”

“He won’t,” Kurt assures. “He promised. We talked about it.”

“You talked about him failing you?”

“We talked about what might happen should an unfortunate break up arise, yes,” Kurt says. “We didn’t just jump into this, dad. Well, okay, we did a bit. But then we stopped and talked it all out. Karofsky wasn’t supposed to see me there on the one night I chose to stay over. I don’t even know why he was at that apartment complex, not to mention so early. We weren’t even, uh, actually, Blaine pretty much refused to have sex with me until I graduated.”

“Yeah, that stuck alright.”

“The situation…changed.”

“You fell in love,” Carole says simply.

Kurt flushes.

“If you were so in love last night to the point where you thought it was okay to do…that, why the hell did you break up today?”

Eyes glazing over as he remembers the horrific conversation from earlier, Kurt lowers his head.

“He’s always had…reservations. About us. Because of the fact the he’s my teacher. He knew it was risky to get into a relationship with me. But he did it because he wanted to and he cared about me. The thing is, he has a bigger guilt complex than anyone else I know.”

“Well it ain’t big enough, is-”

“Burt.”

“Yeah, yeah, understanding and acceptance, stay away from sarcasm,” Burt grumbles.

“He said he feels like a monster,” Kurt whispers. “And that, because of all that, I make him just as miserable and I make him happy.”

“Christ,” Burt utters.

“I couldn’t – I couldn’t force him to let me stay with him when I know I make him feel so awful. I would never force him to let me stay anyway, that’s just bad, but…miserable?”

“You know what I think, honey?” Carole begins. “I think he’s going to see you every day and he’s going to realize that he’s more miserable without you.”

“I don’t want that, though. I don’t want him to take me back just because he feels a little less miserable with me around. I don’t want him to be miserable at all.”

“That sounds like something he’s going to have to deal with on his own. I think you’re just going to have to give the young man a little time to sort things out. If he loves you the way you love him, he’ll find a way back to you. It might take a while, but it’ll be worth it in the end when he comes to his senses.”

Maybe.

But Kurt doesn’t know if he can allow himself to hope without losing his mind in the process.

“So…you’re not going to ground me or anything? For being so horrible and mouthing off and lying to you?” Kurt asks, a desperate plea in his eyes.

“I’m too tired to ground you,” Burt huffs. “I just want dessert.”

Uncomfortable.

That’s essentially the only word Kurt can use to describe the next day at school. Not weird, not awkward.

Just very, very uncomfortable.

During Blaine’s (Kurt can’t bring himself to call him Mr. Anderson in his head, he just can’t) class, both teacher and student do their best to completely avoid eye contact. On Kurt’s part, that means keeping his head down and focusing on taking notes. For Blaine, that means addressing most of his questions to the opposite side of the room from where Kurt sits.

So far, he hasn’t heard any slurs or anything bad against Blaine, and no one has approached him to discuss any of the ‘rumors’ floating around regarding yesterday’s incident. Then again, Kurt had made sure to arrive at school just in time for his first class and not a second earlier.

Perhaps, he thinks, the students consider the issue quite a serious offense and think it might be in bad taste to bring it up during Blaine’s class.

By the time class ends, Kurt feels like he might throw up. He needs to approach Blaine and ask him about taking a make-up test, since he missed the test yesterday due to the…proceedings. He packs his things slowly, feeling numb as he clasps his bag closed. Just as the other students are almost completely gone, Dave Karofsky passes by the classroom and coughs, loud and dramatic, and one word escapes his lips:

“Pedo.”

Kurt’s eyes widen to an almost painful degree, and with a hurried glance to Blaine, he sees the man freeze in the process of wiping his writing off the white board at the front of the room. His face turns a sickly shade of white.

Instead of addressing the obvious slur, he simply sets the eraser down, turns his back on the doorway, and eases himself into his desk chair. Kurt remains glued to his seat, back rigid with shock. Some students laugh at Karofsky’s vulgar statement, others stare in horror, as if they can’t believe he really said such a thing. Everyone finally files out the classroom, save for Kurt, and Karofsky sniggers at his own antics.

Kurt watches as Blaine lowers his head, covering his face with his hands in disgrace. It’s a long, tense moment, and Kurt wishes he could wrap the man up in his arms and comfort him.

He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Can you just go?” Blaine snaps suddenly, a hard scowl on his face when he finally drops his hands.

He still doesn’t meet Kurt’s eyes.

“I was just – I – I’m sorry.” Kurt says, unable to ask about the make-up test because he simply can’t find the courage to do so. Yet still, he can’t find the power within himself to move.

“Now!” Blaine barks.

Finally, at that, Kurt flees. When he reaches the hallway, Karofsky gives him this smarmy smile that sets his teeth on edge.

This vindictive streak ends today, Kurt decides. He can’t bear to see Blaine like that again. He just can’t.

“Is it true?” Rachel asks blithely in Glee club.

Kurt has no idea why she’s waited all day to ask. She could have asked in between classes or at lunch or any other time of the day. Instead, it seems like she’s been saving up all her questions for their last class of the day.

Ignoring her, Kurt busies himself by pulling a folder out of his bag and flipping through pages of sheet music.

“Everyone’s saying – come on, you have to tell me,” she presses. “Are you with him? How long have you been together? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The only thing I’ll tell you is what everyone else should know,” Kurt says in a hard tone. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Mr. Anderson. Nothing. The allegations have been proven false by the police. He’s been cleared of all charges. And the rumors are lies.”

“But,” she lowers her voice, “between you and me, is any of it true? Anything at all?”

“How many fucking times do I have to say this?” Kurt shouts, catching the eye of all the other Glee club members. “There is nothing going on between me and Mr. Anderson! So stop asking and leave it alone!”

Rachel jerks back at his harsh tone. She bites her lips, forcing herself to remain quiet and not ask any other questions. Mr. Schue clears his throat loudly, a blush rising to his cheeks.

Kurt ignores everyone else for the rest of the class period. Rachel continues to shoot him concerned glances. Eventually, Kurt switches seats, sitting away from the rest of the students and refusing to speak a word the entire time.

When school ends, Kurt makes one of the craziest decisions he’s ever made in his life.

Besides dating a teacher, of course.

Actually, no. This is probably the crazier of the two.

He follows David Karofsky home.

“Proud of yourself, huh?”

Just as Karofsky slams his car door shut, he whips around at the sound of Kurt’s voice.

“What the – what’re you doing here?” Karofsky asks, eyes darting hither and thither around the street, as if he’s afraid of being seen with Kurt in public.

“I’m here because we obviously need to have a little chat,” Kurt states, pointing the locking remote on his key ring toward his car across the street, as if to demonstrate exactly where he had come from.

“Leave me alone,” Karofsky grunts.

“Not a chance,” Kurt says, sidling up to Karofsky on the curb in front of his house. “Now, we can either do this here, on the sidewalk, or we can go inside and talk this out in private. Your call.”

“There’s nothing to freaking talk about,” Karofsky states. “I saw you at his place and you lied to the cops and got out of it.”

“One has to wonder exactly what you were doing at those apartments so early in the morning,” Kurt drawls.

Karofksy’s face loses its color.

“Thought so,” Kurt says with an evil grin. “So, are you inviting me in?”

Within a matter of minutes, Kurt is sitting on the couch in Karofsky’s living room, looking around at various family photos, knickknacks, and an arrangement of DVDs on a long shelf. Karofsky stands awkwardly in the center of the room, arms crossed as if to protect himself from an unnamed enemy.

Or maybe he’s protecting himself from Kurt’s almost-scowl.

“So?” Karofsky prompts.

“Tell me,” Kurt says, leaning back into the sofa, “exactly what you thought to achieve in your little scheme.”

“It wasn’t a scheme,” Karofsky says at once. “I saw you there and you know it. And you two were pretty cozy by the look of things.”

“And you thought it was okay to just tell the whole wide world what you saw?”

“He’s a teacher! And you were – it’s freakin’ gross, Hummel! And it’s obvious what you two were up to. I mean, coming out of his place in pajamas and going up there when he’s got his shirt off? Did you really think no one would ever find out?”

“You realize,” Kurt says in a low voice, “that I know your secret.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that you kissed me last year,” Kurt says. “I know that you’re in the closet.”

Karofsky drops his arms, clenching his hands into fists at his sides while his face becomes red with anger.

“So why,” Kurt continues, “did you think it was okay to attempt to ruin someone who has had the power to ruin you for an entire year?”

“Like you have the balls to try and do something me.”

“You think not? You realize that you can only push a person so far before they break, right?”

“Ugh, just get out of my house.”

“All it takes is one little talk with my brother and this entire town will know that you’re in the closet.”

“You – you wouldn’t.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Kurt snarls, leaping to his feet. “But you didn’t even think, did you? You ran off to Principal Figgins as soon as you caught me doing something you thought was wrong, but I haven’t said a single word about what happened last year, David.”

Never mind that Kurt had admitted everything to Blaine. That didn’t factor into this situation.

“I don’t know what issues you have with me,” Kurt says, “but at this point, I really don’t care. You seriously crossed the line on this, though, in a majorly reprehensible way. Not that you know what that means, but Mr. Anderson could’ve been fired. He could have gone to jail!”

“Well, maybe he should have!”

“No, he shouldn’t have! And he won’t, not if I have anything to do with it. He’s not – he’s not some child molester or anything like that! He’s a good person and he’s one of the best teachers our school has ever had! You had no right to put his life in jeopardy!”

“I had the right to tell the principal that I saw a teacher screwing a student!” Karofsky shouts.

“No, that’s not what you saw. You saw me run to my car to get a change of clothes and come back upstairs. You didn’t know the circumstances. You don’t even know that’s where he lives. You have no facts behind the situation. He could have been roommates with a family friend that I was visiting.”

“If that’s what was going on, then why’d you touch him like-”

“I shoved him out of the way because it was freezing outside and he didn’t have a shirt on, Karofsky,” Kurt states. “That’s what you saw. Any other conclusions you came up with were all fabricated in your stupid head.”

“But you and him-”

“There is nothing going on between us,” Kurt states. “There just isn’t.”

“Then what were you doing at his apartment?”

“What I was doing at that apartment in particular is none of your damn business. I came over here to tell you stop saying such nasty things about him. You don’t even get it, do you? Even though he was cleared of all the charges, his life still really sucks right now. How would you feel if I came out and told everyone that you were gay, only to have you refute it and say you’re not, and then hear all these whispers behind your back, hm? How would you like it if someone called you a faggot or called you a homo and then laughed about it?”

“That – that’s not the same.”

“It is the same. You’re hurting him, David, the same way you hurt me last year. I don’t know exactly what your issues are with me, or what’s going on in your head, though I could hazard a quick guess. But you need help. Because you can’t keep lashing out like this. It isn’t right and it’s really destructive behavior.”

Karofsky falls silent and brushes past Kurt to slump onto the sofa. A long, tense stretch of quiet falls between them, during which Kurt doesn’t know what else to say. He knows that he came over here to stop Karofsky from spreading around more stories about him and Blaine, but now it seems like this has turned into something else entirely.

“Why do you care so much about the guy anyway?” Karofsky finally asks. “If he’s really just a teacher, what’s it matter how he feels?”

“I happen to be capable of empathy and last I checked I had a soul. I happen to care how he feels because he’s a teacher I admire a hell of a lot. Also, I, being in possession of said soul, know that it’s wrong to accuse someone of something when you don’t even know all the circumstances. You have no proof that we were ever together in that way.”

“Well it’s not like you have any proof that I ever kissed you,” Karofsky says.

“I wouldn’t need proof,” Kurt reminds. “Just as you’ve demonstrated with this whole thing, rumors are enough to destroy.”

“But you – you said you wouldn’t.”

“And I won’t. Because, like I’ve told you before, I don’t believe in outing people. I just don’t. But at this point? I just - don’t you remember all the progress we made? You apologized to me, with tears in your eyes and everything, right before prom last year. And you’ve hardly said three words to me all year. So why now? What made you give all that up and go back to the old you?”

“None of your damn business,” Karofsky says, echoing Kurt’s words from before.

“It’s my damn business if it’s causing you to attempt to screw up my life. Again. And it obviously has to do with why you were at those apartments that morning.”

“Just shut up.”

“Oh what, so now you’re going to make me guess?” Kurt drawls. “Let’s see…well, there’s drugs, but you play sports and I know they test for those sometimes so I guess that’s out. Maybe your parents split up and you were staying at a friend’s place because you were too upset to deal with things at home?”

“My parents are fucking fine.”

“Good to hear,” Kurt says. “I liked your dad, despite meeting him for such a bad reason. So if it isn’t drugs and it isn’t your home life, then I can only assume it has to have something to do with your love life.”

“Shut up,” Karofsky says again.

“Painful break up?” Kurt asks. “Break ups are hard, but that doesn’t mean you have to put someone else’s livelihood in danger.”

“I didn’t break up with anyone, so just shut your damn mouth.”

“One night stand, then?”

Oh. Shit.

Instead of becoming outrageously angry, Karofsky’s goes a bit pale, muscles constricting in his neck as his chest hitches. He sucks in a quick breath, refusing to meet Kurt’s eyes.

“I…see,” Kurt says slowly. “Did it not…go well?”

“Don’t,” Karofsky says in a hard tone. “You can’t tell anyone. If you say anything about it to anyone, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Kurt asks, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “You’ll kill me?”

Karofsky grumbles, crossing his arms once again in that oh-so-standard way that meant he was closing himself off. Kurt sighs, patience wearing thin.

“Sometimes I feel that, for all of your apologies, sincere or not, you really haven’t changed much at all,” Kurt says.

“Yes, I have,” Karofsky insists.

“But don’t you get it?” Kurt wonders. “It’s the same old story. You’re insecure about your own sexuality and because you don’t know how to deal with it on the inside, you lash out and prey on easy targets. You did it to me before because I was the only gay guy you knew. You did it this time because it was a situation that could be easily misconstrued, and in the process, you could have some sick satisfaction by putting yourself on top once again. I mean, you must feel really great about yourself when you’re spreading around all these rumors and basically calling a teacher a pedophile to his face. And I’m sure it takes all the attention away from you when you can’t handle your own feelings.”

“You just think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Karofsky spits.

“I think I spent years putting up with your bullshit and attempting to figure out why you did what you did,” Kurt says. “I’m not a psychologist. But I think you should probably look into one.”

“I’m not going to some stupid head shrink!”

“Do what you like,” Kurt says with finality, standing in preparation to leave. “But if you don’t stop with this vendetta against me or Mr. Anderson, it’s just going to come back and bite you in the ass.”

“But you said you wouldn’t tell anyone about-”

“Did I say that was the only form of blackmail I had against you?” Kurt asks, polite as you please while calmly buttoning his coat.

To be completely honest, Kurt has absolutely nothing else on David Karofsky that he could use to potentially blackmail the boy. The words are empty threats, but at least he isn’t threatening to kill anyone. Sometimes, though, you can only fight fire with fire. This isn’t even about his reputation anymore; this is for the man he loves.

And Kurt Hummel will put up one hell of a fight before he sees the man he loves go down in flames.

“Like – like what?” Karofsky stammers, apparently terrified that Kurt might have dirt on him.

“Stop the rumors, drop the issue, and you’ll never find out,” Kurt replies airily before spinning on one heel and leaving the house.

He may not have any real ammunition, but everyone has secrets. Kurt knows this for a fact.

When he’s finally across the street and sitting behind the wheel of his car, Kurt finally slumps over and releases a breath hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He isn’t proud of what he just did, especially not after all of the progress he thought he and Karofsky had made. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s just going to take David Karofsky a bit more time to deal with his sexuality before he makes a real change.

Until then, he has to keep Blaine safe.

A week later, Blaine returns their graded tests at the end of class, causing Kurt to panic. He never made the test up. He never asked, never even tried to after that day last week and now he’s out of options and left with no more time.

“Um, Mr. Anderson?” Kurt asks at the end of the day, walking into Blaine’s classroom to see the man sipping from his usual coffee mug while peering at a stack of papers in front of him.

“What’s up – oh,” Blaine says, voice going flat when he looks up and realizes exactly who had sought him out. “Ah, yes, Kurt. What was it you needed?”

“I – I never got to take that test,” Kurt says. “The one I missed when we were both, um, pulled out of class last week? So…I was wondering if there’s any way I can take a make-up test?”

“You waited a week to ask me about it?” Blaine questions.

Kurt shuffles uncomfortably in front of his teacher’s desk. “I forgot,” he says lamely.

“That’s very unlike you,” Blaine remarks. “I’m sorry, I am, but I’ve already passed the tests back and that means that you could just swipe someone else’s test and look at all the questions and the answers.”

“I won’t do that, I swear I won’t,” Kurt insists.

“I’m not saying I think you would,” Blaine says, beginning to look genuinely sorry, “but it’s just really something I can’t do. Others might expect the same one day if they know I’m giving you the same test they took after it was already returned to them. It’d look pretty bad.”

“I understand,” Kurt says, and he does, truly. “Um, what about another test? One you can make that doesn’t have all the same questions?”

“I really don’t have time to create an entirely new test for one student who had a whole week to ask me about the first one.”

Kurt bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from groaning aloud in frustration.

“An essay, then. I could do an extra essay, a long one to make up for it. You’d just have to give me a prompt,” Kurt suggests.

“Kurt,” Blaine sighs, dropping a pen he had been toying with onto the desk and rubbing his forehead. “I shouldn’t even allow you to make it up in the first place, not after you had plenty of time to talk to me about it before. You didn’t even come to me at the end of class today to ask me about it. I only allow students to make up tests when they notify me at the earliest possible convenience. You didn’t do that.”

“But it’s not like – like I skipped class or anything!” Kurt says in horror at the thought of missing the test altogether. “You were in there with me, you know why I missed it.”

“Obviously I’m not saying that you missed the test for no good reason,” Blaine says patiently, though he sounds like he might be reaching the end of that rope. “But the fact is you had plenty of opportunities to ask me about it before I returned them to the rest of the class today. And I’m hardly going to believe that you simply forgot. I like to think I know you too well for that.”

“I can’t just take a zero on this test,” Kurt states. “I just can’t.”

“It wouldn’t affect your grade so badly,” Blaine says. “The rest of your grades are very good.”

“I’ve never failed a test in my life and I can’t start now. This would be the only class that I wouldn’t have an A in this year and I need to graduate with a stellar GPA for college. Please,” Kurt begs, “let me do something to make up for the grade. Extra credit or – or anything. Please.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says sadly, as if he’s actually in pain just having this conversation.

“I’d do it tonight,” Kurt says. “Anything you assign, I’ll do it tonight and you’ll have it tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you just come talk to me before?” Blaine asks.

“Because,” Kurt hisses, glancing toward the open door to make sure no one was listening in, “we weren’t exactly on speaking terms, if you remember. You still can’t even look me in the eye in class.”

“That wasn’t-” Blaine looks to the door as well, “-that’s a personal issue,” Blaine states. “The test was not. You should have come to me about it. I’m still your teacher and I don’t think I’m an unreasonable one.”

“It’s taking everything I have right now to stand here and not cry,” Kurt says in a heated whisper. “So don’t tell me that it’s a simple matter of talking to you. Talking to you either way is difficult, thank you very much. Maybe you could have been the responsible one, the teacher as you’re taking such effort to remind, and offered me a make-up test before I had to ask.”

Blaine sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Kurt, it’s pointless to have you make up the test,” he says. But before Kurt can protest, Blaine’s already continuing his statement. “Because I’ve already given you an A in my grade book.”

Kurt stares back blankly.

“You what?”

“You have your grade,” Blaine repeats. “I made a promise.”

I would never fail you, even if we had the messiest break up in the history of break ups.

“So you just – you just gave me a grade?” Kurt whispers with another glance toward the open door. “Without having anything to grade?”

“It was either that or hold you back after class and remind you to make it up,” Blaine says. “And after recent events, I didn’t think that would look all that great.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. I guess. But it really isn’t fair that I didn’t do anything to deser-”

“It seems like nothing at all is fair, these days,” Blaine says softly.

Kurt falls quiet, peering down at his teacher behind the desk. He doesn’t look like he’s holding up any better than Kurt, not now that Kurt finally has the chance to take a good, long look at him. It’s been a week since they broke up, and the skin beneath Blaine’s eyes still looks to be dark, as if he hasn’t slept well at all. Maybe that’s why he’s still drinking coffee this late in the afternoon. His jaw is nearly scruffy, giving the idea that he’d forgotten to shave this morning.

Blaine never forgets to shave.

He always liked his face to be smooth and clean so that when they kissed –

No. Best not to think about that.

“Are you doing okay?” Kurt asks. “In general?”

“No,” Blaine says plainly, looking up at Kurt with wide, honest eyes. “I was informed yesterday that my contract will not, in fact, be renewed for next year. I won’t have the time to look for another job until summer. And I might have to move.”

“You could still go back to school,” Kurt says. “You can still go to New York and do what you’ve always wanted.”

“Kurt-”

“It’s a big city,” Kurt interrupts. “You might not even run into me there.”

Blaine sighs once again, looking completely exhausted.

“I just want you to be happy,” Kurt says, doing his best to force down the sob that claws its way into his throat. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I know,” Blaine says. “But these days it seems like I don’t even know how to be happy anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says.

He doesn’t know why he says it. He doesn’t really know what he’s apologizing for. Maybe it’s because he basically caused Blaine to lose his job, or maybe it’s for throwing such a fit over a test that didn’t even matter, or maybe it’s for turning the man into such a shell of his former self.

All Kurt knows is that he truly hates seeing Blaine look like he’s never had a happy memory.

“No,” Blaine says, straightening in his chair. “I’m sorry. This was an inappropriate conversation I didn’t mean to have. My life isn’t something you need to be concerned with.”

“Right,” Kurt says flatly. “Because I’m just your student.”

“And because I’m just your teacher.”

Blaine’s eyes give way to something more, though, even as he says those words. Those eyes scream for love and warmth and hold me like you used to when it snowed outside. Those eyes plead for the touch of a comforting hand and a kiss to make it better.

Those eyes say you’re everything I never thought was real, but if you touch me I’ll shatter into a trillion pieces. I’ll float away. I’ll float away and I’ll dissolve and turn to stardust if you touch me. But please. Please just touch me.

Kurt leaves.