Well, at least to Blaine, it was.

Kurt Hummel was like those winter mornings where you don’t have to get up and you can stay in the comfort of your warm bed. He was like the seventh Harry Potter book premiere. He was like completing a five-man raid in Ice Crown Citadel without any deaths.

Kurt was the most beautiful boy Blaine had ever met.

Well, not really met.

Seen. Just seen.

Blaine was in no way in that perfect boy’s league. He was a bit shorter than most of the other senior boys. He wore glasses. He knew what he wore was not what most teenagers wore, but Blaine liked to look nice. He felt comfortable in his bow ties, suspenders, and boat shoes. However, boys like Blaine didn’t talk to guys like Kurt who wore a different flawlessly fashionable every day.

Then there was the fact the Blaine was too smart and, even he would admit, a nerd. He spent most nights playing World of Warcraft and reading sci fi and fantasy books. When he did hang out with his old friends from Dalton, he joined them for their game nights, not their parties. At Dalton Academy, he maintained a 4.0 and sung in glee club. He almost thought he could bond with Kurt over both being in glee, but that would mean he would have to actually talk to Kurt.

Besides his nerd factor of a billion, Blaine just flew under the radar. He had been at McKinley for two weeks and the only time people spoke to him was in class. Admittedly, he was shy. When he first went to Dalton, the only reason he actually made friends was because Wes and David made it their mission to "crack the quiet kid". He felt like he could be himself there, but here he just couldn't. For the most part the shyness wasn't a problem. It helped him avoid those famous slushie facials because the jocks didn't even know who he was. It was starting to become a problem when he couldn't seem to talke to the boy he desperately liked.

And that is how Blaine got stuck in his 5th period routine of staring at the back of his crush’s head. Blaine didn’t mind that he usually missed most of his calculus class’s lecture. He always studied ahead the night before so he wouldn’t be distracted from looking at Kurt. This was the closest Blaine had managed to get in the two weeks since his transfer. Kurt’s hair always looked perfect and soft. His neck was so pale and long. Every time the girl, Rachel, said a rude comment in class Blaine could see his embarrassed blush creep all the way to the back of his neck. It was adorable. Blaine’s eyes glazed over thinking about running his hands through that chestnut hair and kissing that lovely neck.

Little did Blaine know that a pair of dark eyes was watching him.

***

Blaine clutched a stack of papers tightly to his chest. Today was the day to talk to Kurt. Kurt was sick yesterday, and he would need the notes from calculus. Which were in Blaine’s hand. He spent most of last night rewriting the notes in his best handwriting. He needed everything to go perfectly. He needed for sparks to fly when their eyes finally met. But most of all, he really needed for his palms to stop sweating.

Blaine saw Kurt stroll up to his locker. He let out a slow breath and walked forward, trying to look more confident than he felt. The boy looked exceptionally beautiful today. His blue sweater matched his eyes, and the sinfully tight white pants hugged his thighs and calves like they were painted on. Blaine felt like a tractor beam was pulling him toward the taller boy. He wanted to turn around and run, but his feet kept moving him forward.

Kurt was looking in his locker mirror, setting a hair that came out of place. His pale hand lifted up the hairspray—and blasted Blaine right in the face.

Blaine started hacking. He hunched over and trying his best to get the hairspray out of his lungs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and the taste in his mouth was awful. Then his body froze when he realized that someone was patting his back, trying to soothe him. It was Kurt.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry. Are you okay?” Blaine nodded and looked up at him through red teary eyes. Blaine could see worry and concern etched on the boy’s face. His heart leapt when he realized that concern and worry was for him.

Kurt gently led Blaine to the lockers so he could lean and catch his breath. Kurt smiled. He smiled at Blaine. “I am really, really sorry,” Kurt apologized again. “I sometimes forget that most people don’t live in a world of hairspray.” Kurt’s eyes went to Blaine’s hair. “Though it looks like you live in the neighboring world of gel.”

Blaine just stared. He couldn’t believe Kurt was talking to him. Especially after he nearly coughed up a lung. His eyes squinted. His vision seemed blurry.

Kurt noticed this too and laughed. Blaine could have died right there. Kurt’s laugh was so light and melodic.

Kurt leaned over and plucked Blaine’s glasses off his face. Blaine let out a gasp as Kurt’s finger brushed the side of his face.

Kurt heard the gasp and said, “Don’t worry. I’m just cleaning the hairspray off. I mean it is the least I can do.” Kurt pulled out a cloth and a spray bottle out of his locker and started to clean the glasses. He continued, “I use this to clean my sunglasses, and it works like a dream on slushie stains. It even got the blue off of my white Dior sunglasses.”

Blaine stood there with his mouth open as Kurt cleaned his glasses. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted his first impression to go. But Kurt was talking with him. Well to him.

The taller boy finished cleaning Blaine’s glasses and placed them back on his face. He tilted his head to the side and smiled at his work, “See? Isn’t that better?”

Blaine tried to give Kurt his biggest smile. Then he remembered the papers in his hand. Blaine started, “Actually I have—“

“Hey, white boy! We are not going to be late to English because of you!” called a girl from down the hall.

Kurt rolled his eyes and said, “What a drama queen.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and closed his locker.

Wait. Was he leaving? Blaine started to freak out. He barely said a word to Kurt, and now his crush was just going to go to class. There were no fireworks and no flirting. Nothing.

Blaine tried again, extending the papers forward, “Well here are the—“

But he was cut off again. “Gotta go. Sorry about the hairspray.” And then Kurt was gone, walking arm in arm with Mercedes Jones and taking every chance for Blaine to talk to him with him.

Blaine’s head thumped back against the lockers. He lost his opportunity to talk to Kurt. He lost his chance to introduce himself and have Kurt fall head over heals in love with him. The only impression that he made was a hacking idiot. Blaine just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

“Well, that was the most pathetic thing I have ever seen.”

The boy’s head spun in the direction of the voice. Then Blaine knew he was in hell because standing near the end of the lockers was Santana Lopez. Cheerio. McKinley’s resident bitch. The girl who could make Bellatrix Lestrange run for cover. It was clear by the smug smirk on her face that she saw everything that happened. Blaine didn’t have the energy to run away from the embarrassment. Instead, he just prepared for the worse.

Santana sauntered over and leaned her shoulder against the locker next to Blaine. “That’s right, hobbit. I know about your little crush. By the way you eye fuck the back of his head in Calc and Home Ec and lunch and in the halls, I am surprised that no one else has caught on. I am shocked that you grew the balls to walk over to him today.”

Attempting to stay calm, Blaine tried to brush it off and said quietly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The girl scoffed, “Do not insult my gaydar like that.” She grabbed the notes from his hand, looked at them, and laughed, “Thank god, you didn’t give these to Kurt.”

“What’s wrong with them?” asked Blaine, terrified. He worked so hard on those notes.

Santana shove the papers in his face and declared, “Hearts. You replaced all the periods with fucking hearts.”

The blood drained from his face. He hadn’t meant to do that. The boy covered his face with his hands in horror. “Just kill me now,” mumbled Blaine through his hands.

“As fun as that sounds,” The girl pulled his hands off his face so that he could see a glint in her eyes. That glint looked like trouble. “I have a much better plan.”

Blaine’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?”

Santana crossed her arms and announce grandly, “I am going to be your fairy gaymother.”

This must have not gotten the response she wanted because she huffed. “Damn, hobbit. I am going to help you get Kurt.”

Blaine’s face lit up. She was going to help him. He wasn’t too sure if he could trust her, but he couldn’t let things continue like this because he would burst.

“Well, I’m Blaine Anderson.” Blaine extended a hand out. Instead of taking his hand, Santana put her arm around his shoulder and lead down the hallway.

She smirked, “Not by the time I’m done with you.”