The envelope was a perfect square, and Kurt weighed it in his hands as he flipped it right side up and backwards again, twirling it as he looked for the opening. His fingers were shaking, and he was sure his brain was simply stalling. Kurt wasn’t mentally prepared to open the envelope, which looked a little too big to just be holding a simple letter. There was something else, and the thought of that plus the mere fact of its existence alone made his heart flutter, and he closed his eyes for a moment, sitting down on his bed finally as he told himself that he needed to stop being stupid.

His hands stopped, and he looked at the envelope, resting it on his lap as a hand graced over the front of it, looking for where it would be easiest to open. Taking in a breath, he leaned towards his bedside table, grabbing for one of his sai’s until feeling the hilt of it in his hand. He flipped it up, and easily opened the blade, putting it down on his bed as his trembling fingers reached down the white hard envelope to reach out for the letter Blaine had sent him.

It had been his idea to exchange letters, and had taken him days to find enough courage to bring it up to ask Blaine. Although he knew the boy was going to say yes, Kurt had felt awkward asking. He had no clue where this was going, and he didn’t want Blaine to think something that Kurt wasn’t trying to give off. Right now, although whenever he saw Blaine’s eyes on him he blushed ferociously, Kurt really just wanted someone to be there for him the way Blaine had been. Even if Kurt did curse every second he felt something close to ‘the butterflies’.

Which happened the second his hands reached and pulled out a light red envelope with the initials ‘B.A’ in a darker, raised cursive print. He laughed at the fact that Blaine had personalized stationary, happy that he had sent his own letter, along with a (flawless, in his opinion) Mix CD, in a simple, but chic blue envelope with golden Flur Fe lis’s on it while the paper was cream with a blue border. He sighed as he opened the envelope, trying to not wonder if Blaine’s tongue had sealed it, trying not to picture the way it had dragged over the paper, trying not to get lost in a day dream that involved Blaine’s tongue doing other things but failing and blushing horribly before scolding himself for being a pervert, because he really shouldn’t be thinking about anyone like that, let alone his friend.

The envelope snapped open with a light pop as his fingers went over the seam, and Kurt bit down on his lip happily as he pulled out the folded white paper inside. Unfolding it, his eyes went wide as he noticed Blaine had written on both sides of two pieces of paper, feeling somewhat awful for only writing a page and a half. But his eyes closed for a moment, as he pictured Blaine in his room, hunched over his wooden desk, writing the letter he now held in his hand.

This was Blaine. This was the closest thing to Blaine he could get to at the moment, and Kurt was having trouble even coming to terms with that. This was tangible. It was Blaine. It had touched his hands, it had been worked on. It held his beautiful handwriting, with curling L’s and falling G’s, neat yet cramped and perfectly boyish. These pages held Blaine in them, and Kurt felt pathetic for feeling his eyes start to get watery as his eyes glided across Blaine’s writing.

“Dear Kurt,
It’s a bit cheesy to actually write a title like that, isn’t it? Maybe I should have been more personal, like ‘Hi, Kurt!’ and just go from there. But then I thought about the Sound of Music and remembered Liesel and Rolf said ‘Dear’ and I thought you’d appreciate the little musical theater aspect. Or maybe I’m strange for noticing that. Also, neither one of us is like Rolf at all, so that wasn’t supposed to be some sort of simile. I’m rambling already and I only just started. Only around you, I swear.”

Kurt laughed, because he wondered if that was actually true. Blaine had said it before, one night when they were talking and he had gone on this little rant. It made Kurt feel good though, that he wasn’t the only one that felt different around the other than they did with anyone else. But the letter was so flawlessly him, and Kurt’s eyes were glued to the paper as he stretched out onto his bed on his stomach, reading the letter slowly and twice over.

And he was glad he had read it that second time, or else he wouldn’t have noticed the small, tiny writing underneath his ‘Affectionately, Blaine’. (Kurt had smiled like an idiot when he saw that, but prided himself at the fact that it was over the fact that it was going on with the thought of the Sound of Music.)

Squinting, he tried reading Blaine’s cramped handwriting in the corner.

“P.S. Make sure to shake the big envelope! Don’t throw it away just when you pull out the envelope this came in, and if you did go back and get it; (I’ll apologize if you had to go into the trash or something, promise) there’s a little something extra.”

He was actually more confused than anything when he read that, having thought that he had only felt the envelope itself in the large package. For a moment, Kurt rolled his eyes at the thought that maybe Blaine had forgotten to add whatever else he had been talking about, but trusted the boy. Picking it up, he tipped it upside down and surely enough, two post cards fumbled onto his bed.

Kurt stared for a while, unable to believe that Blaine, just like him, had thought about adding a little something extra to their little letter exchange. The two post cards were perfect too, with one a very typical tourist one, showing the coliseum all lit up at night, although Kurt was too flattered at the fact that Blaine had thought of him to even care. The other though, was the one that he picked up and stared at for a while although he had recognized it instantly.

Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck stood there, laughing at each other as she leans into him and he hugs her. There was a face behind them, and to anyone else it means nothing, but Kurt smiles wide. It’s Roman Holiday, and Kurt doesn’t know what to think about the fact that Blaine thought of him long enough to know just how much something so simple meant to him. There was hardly anyone that knew just how much Kurt adored Audrey Hepburn and that film.

But Blaine knew.

Checking the clock, Kurt sighed as he got up to tuck the post card into his bag. That one was absolutely going up in his locker. He knew just the spot too. He turned on his computer, but knew Blaine wasn’t going to be online at all today. It was already too late, seeing as it was nearly seven for Kurt, and Blaine wasn’t online. It was rare that Blaine wasn’t already online when he got home, but the boy had warned him that he had a fencing competition that would run late, and Kurt had nodded long enough to get it across that he understood as he tried to picture Blaine in those white suits. There was always a few nights every couple weeks where they couldn’t talk, but Kurt was used to it.

Pressing the postcard to his lip, Kurt kept it there for a while before sighing again. He thought about reading Blaine’s letter again, or at least that little part where he ranted about how much better Kurt was than a lot of the guys who he went to school with, but shook his head before heading downstairs to his car to meet Mercedes for coffee.
-------------------------------------------------
“What’s that?” Burt asked as he closed the fridge after grabbing some jam for his toast, organic of course, and chosen by Kurt.

Looking up from the sink, where he placed his now empty glass of milk, Kurt turned to his father as if he couldn’t remember what he had placed there this morning, the coliseum a wonderful orange against the purple Roman sky, thinking that maybe their kitchen could use a little Ancient European flavor. Kurt hadn’t been thinking he was going to have to explain it though. He shrugged a bit, before turning back to the sink and pulling the tap up to clean his plate, “Well, obviously it’s the Roman Coliseum, Dad.”

It was as if he could hear his father roll his eyes even with his back turned to him, and he almost winced as he heard his father chuckle to himself, the noise clearly un amused. There wasn’t a way to get out of this one without some form of explanation.

“I know that, Kurt. But I mean, why did you put it up there? Unless it was Carole…”His father’s voice faded as his thoughts fade of his fianc�e, who had to go work early today but was living there with Finn, her son and Kurt’s school mate.

“It wasn’t Carole.” Kurt heard himself say, and literally pressed his nails into his palm as he curled his hands into fists, wondering why he could never lie to his father. It would have been easy to say it wasn’t his, and beg Carole when she got home to just say she had thought it was pretty. That was the easy way out.

But he had said it, and now it was too late. There were more questions waiting for him, and soon enough Kurt would tell the truth. The post card had come from an amazingly sweet, wonderful American boy living in Rome because of his father’s business.

“It’s from my friend, Blaine,” Kurt added, not even waiting for the question, wanting to make things clear, standing straighter than before. There was a way this wouldn’t turn into a disaster, he was sure of it.

It took Burt a moment to say something, and when he finally did, Kurt watched as his eyebrow rose before asking, “And?”

He shrugged, looking at the floor, suddenly interested in the tile. Kurt didn’t want to give everything away, because he knew how his father could get. He knew that there were things he didn’t like, and one of them was strangers. And from the way he would see it, a boy talking to his son over the internet was danger waiting.

“He’s just a friend, if that’s what you think. He liked the post card so he gave it to me, that’s all though,” Kurt answered, looking up again at his father, meeting his eyes confidently, more so than he had felt himself. “There’s nothing wrong with giving your friend a little post card.”

“I never said that.” Burt’s voice was serious, and Kurt wanted to wince. He didn’t mean to make his father angry, but somehow he felt as if he needed to make it clear, if anything, that Blaine and he weren’t involved in any way romantic. That was the last misunderstanding he wanted.

But his father kept going, getting closer to him, although he could tell in his stance, which was still relaxed, that there was nothing to be afraid of yet. His voice lowered a bit though, but the silence in it was questioning, “Kurt, is that who you’ve been talking to every night for the past couple weeks? Why haven’t we met him? I mean, we’ve barely seen you around down stairs because you’re always in your room talking to someone. Why hasn’t he just come over so that we can get to see you and whoever the mystery guy is?”

Kurt can’t help but laugh, and the sound was bitter. How he wishes it were that simple. How he wishes he could simply call Blaine and ask him to come over. How he dreams of the day where he could open his door and expect Blaine to be the one standing there, to finally actually confirm his theory on just what color his eyes are. It literally pains him to think of the fact that he can’t, and the fact that his father thought (although Kurt knows deep down that his father couldn’t have helped but assume that he lived near) he could just walk across the street and come over, like he doesn’t live an ocean away, was like an arrow straight through his chest.

“That’s a bit impossible,” he answered though, shaking his head. Sighing, Kurt looked up and tried to meet his father’s eyes as he spoke, “Blaine lives in Rome, Dad. That’s why I have to talk to him when I get home, because it’s late for him…”His voice trails off as he closes his mouth, licking his lip in fear and anticipating.

And then it really took a minute for his father to say anything. Kurt tried to look on the bright side. No more lying. No more not mentioning Blaine. He had hated having to be quiet about someone so important to him, and in all honesty, it had felt like he had been ashamed of Blaine, and that was the last thing he was. He waited for his father to say something, waited for any show of emotion, waited for any indication that everything was alright.

His eyes just squinted a bit, and he shook his head before meeting Kurt’s eyes. “…So you’re talking to this kid online? And don’t tell me he moved from Lima to Rome before I could meet him, Kurt.” He sighed then, and sat down at the table in front of plate, an empty, boring slice of toast still lying there waiting for the jam that had started this conversation. Burt pressed his fingers to his temples and rubbed and Kurt waited impatiently for his father to keep going, his heart pumping.

But what came out wasn’t what he had expected at all. His father’s hands raised and flailed over his head, looking at Kurt, his eyes less angry and more concerned if anything as he spoke. “How do you know this kid is even a kid? He could be some forty year old rapist who lives a few blocks down and is just trying to stalk you! He probably got that card at Wallmart; I think I’ve seen one just like that. Kurt, I thought you were smarter than to…”

Kurt wasn’t hearing anymore though. His mouth fell open and he looked back at his father in shock as he spoke, before shaking his head as he looked at him, leaning closer. “You think I didn’t think these things? I’m not stupid, Dad. You know that! Blaine isn’t some forty year old guy. He’s a sixteen year old boy who happens to live really, really far away!”

His voice was soft, as he answered, but strong enough to get Kurt to listen. “You don’t know what these guys are capable of…” Burt shook his head again, and added somewhat louder, “These guys are sociopath’s, Kurt. I saw a 60 Minutes special on one who led this girl…”

But the singer couldn’t take anymore. Uncharacteristically of him, Kurt walked out the kitchen, and bounded for his room, his sock covered feat pounding onto the floor as his swung his door open, not caring that Finn could wake up. He was in a place where the only thing he could see in front of him was what he was doing currently, and he would pay for the consequences later.

Glad that he was already dressed, Kurt didn’t even bother checking the time as he opened his laptop, knowing and hoping that Blaine would be online and on Skype like he usually was on Saturday afternoons for him. Drumming his fingers against the desk, he clicked open Skype and clicked Blaine’s name instinctively.

Kurt Hummel: Can I call?

And Blaine, like always, answered within milliseconds.

Blaine Anderson: Yeah, of course.
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“Kurt?” Blaine said, as he began to make out was seemed to be a kitchen, from the fridge in the background. However, he was certainly more focused on Kurt’s face, which seemed angry as he said nothing in return. The sun was shining bright from wherever Kurt was in his house, and Blaine could only think about how much he loved it whenever they called at this time if only because the sun made it look like they were closer than they actually were.

The screen shifted though, and swerved until he was looking at a middle aged, bald man with a baseball cap. Blaine’s eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard as he looked back at the intimidating man who looked just as puzzled as Blaine did. Still, for all his obliviousness, it clicked in his brain. This man was Burt Hummel.

This was so not the way he had wanted to meet Kurt’s father.

“Blaine, this is my father, Burt. He wanted to meet you. Dad, meet Blaine Anderson. A perfectly normal sixteen year old boy.” Kurt’s voice was harsh, and Blaine heard the inflection onto those words, and he really, really started to wonder what was going on. He was nervous though, and there was literally nowhere to go as he stared at the man staring back at him, who wouldn’t even smile although Blaine was grinning timidly.

The man nodded though, and Blaine sensed that that meant whatever this was about was going well. Blaine smiled a bit wider, although that seemed to make the man uneasy, which was an as far away from a response as he was used to when he smiled. Blaine Anderson usually such a hit with parents, but within the first couple seconds of meeting Burt, he had already failed. He was glad that his own parents were out eating, happy that they couldn’t come in and join this already extremely awkward Skype call.

“So, you live in Italy?” Burt asked, raising an eyebrow on the somewhat blurry webcam video.

Nodding, his un gelled curls falling slightly over his face, Blaine smiled again as he answered, “Yes. I moved here two years ago, when my dad’s business got…”

“What does your father do?”

He had the same look on his face: strict, serious and unrelenting. Blaine had never felt like running away more, and he had been through scarier things back before he had moved. But there was something about this man, the way he held himself, that made Blaine feel small.

“He’s a businessman. Um, he works for this big company that sells medical products, and it moved here a few years ago…”

Burt interrupted him though, shaking his head as if he was shaking off what Blaine was saying. Staring back at the webcam, Burt glared as he leaned forward, voice strong as he asked, “Blaine, you’re not lying to me, right? You’re not lying to Kurt, right?”

“Dad!” he heard Kurt in the background, and soon the striking brunette came into the frame, trying to turn his father’s attention to him. They weren’t yelling at each other, but he could hear the tension in their voices. He could hear that Kurt was clearly upset, and Blaine sensed that Kurt’s father wasn’t happy, but wasn’t sure if it was with him, with himself, or with Kurt.

He blocked out their conversation though, listening to himself. Blaine wasn’t lying. And he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to not be lying about. However, he knew he wasn’t lying to Kurt. There were things that he hadn’t told him, like the beating and his father, but he wasn’t keeping any secrets from Kurt if he asked. There was no reason to keep a secret from Kurt who Blaine already knew had opened up to him so much more than other people. Blaine trusted him, and Blaine hoped to everything Kurt could trust him the way he always had.

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head, but looking at the father and son who had stopped their bickering. Sighing, he gave them a smile, before adding, “How could I even lie to Kurt, though? He’d be able to tell instantly.”

They stopped, and Blaine watched as the smile spread onto Kurt’s lips before hearing his father’s booming laugh. He wasn’t sure why he was laughing, or if it was a good thing, but he laughed along with him, and Kurt who had also burst into laughter. However, Kurt leaned forward, and with a wide smile said, albeit through giggles, “I’ll talk to you in a bit, okay? I’m…I’m so sorry for this, I’ll explain later.”

Blaine doesn’t have time to say okay before the screen goes back and the call dies. He sighed, and glanced down at what he had been holding the whole time they had been talking. A mix CD in a pink case, with an envelope taped to it with what he could only assume was Kurt’s full letter. He hadn’t read it though, nor listened to the CD, having had just opened it a few minutes before his call. Dropping it onto his lap though, Blaine ran a hand through his hair, trying not to think about what had just happened and thanking everything he had been wearing clothes instead of his pajamas when Kurt had called.
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There laughter died out slowly, and Kurt shook his head before pressing his hand against his lips in disbelief. If there was anyone who could turn a horrible moment into a joke, it was Blaine, and something in his chest felt warm and fuzzy as he thought of the adorable look on Blaine’s face as he had looked at his father, so oblivious to the entire situation.

Looking at him, his father shook his head and pointed at this laptop as he calmed down, “Is he serious? He…that guy…” He shook his head again, and Kurt could tell his father couldn’t believe what had happened at all. Inside Burt Hummel’s mind, he had pictured the horrible things that could have happened to Kurt if his predictions were true. Inside his mind, Blaine Anderson was a sociopath capable of doing anything he wanted. The boy with the goofy smile had proved that all wrong. “That guy couldn’t hurt a fly.”

Kurt sighed in relief, happy to see his father thought that, although he knew that Blaine had been fencing for a few years now, but figured that after what had happened only twenty minutes prior to now, it was better if he simply didn’t mention that Blaine knew how to handle a sword. He was just happy to know the ridiculous notion that he was some sort of murderer was out of his head.

“I told you he was just a kid,” Kurt said, closing the lid of the laptop and picking it up slowly, looking at his father. Kurt stoped though, taking a deep breath as he looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not stupid, Dad.”

He looked at him for a minute, and nodded. That nod took away all Kurt’s fears, and he could only feel relief. No more lying, no more hiding. Blaine was out there, and that little bit of him that was tangible that had come with the letter felt stronger now. It didn’t matter that when he called him again in an hour Blaine would ask what that had been about. It didn’t matter that that required another awkward conversation.

The only thing that mattered was that somehow, Kurt felt a little bit more accepted.