The guys respected Blaine's talents, and his ability to still be able to discuss sports and cars despite his slight flamboyance, but it was the girls who especially loved Blaine, and Blaine loved them. Whether the cause was his sexuality or always attending classes with only the same gender, not even Blaine was sure, but he exulted in the company of women. He flirted with them and teased them—making suggestive jokes with Santana, letting Brittany dance up on him during songs, throwing winks and flirtatious smirks to Lauren while he sang; even Quinn was not immune to his charm, letting him pull her onto his lap and tease her about being prettier than all of the Barbie's he'd wished he could play with as a child. Kurt took it all with good humor, secure in Blaine not suddenly switching teams after the little Rachel-Blaine-sexuality-confusion earlier that year. He had even been able to laugh in shock the day Brittany had, without warning, kissed Blaine full on the mouth, offering only the explanation that she wanted to see if all gay guys kissed the same (her conclusion was that they did not). Kurt actually enjoyed seeing all of them falling in love with his boyfriend. He took pleasure in their envy that- despite all his eyelash batting and doting complements- at the end of the day, it was only Kurt who Blaine looked to with hungry eyes and devoted smiles.

It was three weeks into Blaine's Friday visits and they were all pleased with not only Blaine's company, but also the lessons he had provided. The group was confident for Nationals, and especially so after their first dress rehearsal. The group exited the auditorium together, chattering happily with Blaine and Kurt in the lead, flanked by Quinn with a hand tucked around Blaine's elbow and Mercedes at Kurt's. As they made their way down the hallway, they suddenly fell silent. Blaine looked around at them, confused. "What's going on?"

Kurt's eyes were directed further down the hall, and Blaine followed his gaze until his eyes settled on a small pack of boys in letterman jackets, emerging from the locker room. "Ah."

The pack was walking toward them purposefully. Mercedes and Quinn instinctively stepped back. Kurt would have too, but Blaine caught his hand in his own, his eyes on the larger boys moving toward them. "Don't run away. They're only people. Ignorant people."

Kurt tugged at Blaine's hand. "No, Blaine, you don't get it, they're going to-"

He knew it was no use; he closed his eyes tightly, just in time. He felt the slick ice sliding down his neck, under his collar. He let go of Blaine's hand to wipe the slush from his eyes. Purple today. He looked over at Blaine and was alarmed to see blue slush dripping down the sides of his face.

Blaine rubbed his eyes- he hadn't known to close them before the slushie dropped down over him- but he didn't look particularly mortified. Once his vision was cleared, he studied his fingers for a moment; he looked back up to Karofsky and the other two leering back at him. He smiled.

Kurt had to hold back a gasp of shock.

Blaine sucked the colored syrup from his fingers before glancing over at Kurt; he reached up his cleaned fingers, swiped Kurt's cheek with a pinkie, and sucked it clean before speaking. "I like yours better."

Kurt stared dumbly. He decided Blaine was in shock.

Blaine's eyes turned back to the three bigger boys, who now just looked confused. "Blue's not really my color, fellas."

"Blaine." Kurt hissed. In shock or not, Blaine was going to get himself killed.

Karofsky caught the collar of Blaine's shirt in both fists, raising him up to his tip toes "You fucking faggot-"

"Hey!" Puck and Sam both stepped forward, ready to defend one of their own.

Blaine, however, raised a hand, "It's all right, guys."

Karofsky let go of Blaine, so his feet were evenly back on the ground, but he slammed his back against the locker banks, a fist raised. "How about a black eye, that go better with your skin tone, queer?"

Blaine looked up at the raised fist and then back at Karofsky, his eyes still placid. He raised his eyebrows then let them drop back down. Karofsky's fist came down hard on the spot nearest Blaine's head, making the metal quiver and resound with a thwack. Blaine flinched only slightly at the noise.

David let go of Blaine's shirt and took a step back, looking agitated.

Blaine remained where he was, but straightened his tie, watching the larger jock almost curiously.

Karofsky's minions exchanged a look and murmured something back and forth. David had to do something. He could not let this preppy private school homo get the best of him; he wanted him shaken. He needed him shaken. He pivoted on his heel abruptly and shoved Kurt away from the pack toward the other two jocks.

"Easy." Blaine straightened up further, his voice a flat warning.

Karofsky had found the kindling he needed, he kept his attention on Kurt. "You should teach your girlfriend some manners, Kurt."

Kurt glowered at him; "Don't talk about-"

Karofsky loomed over him. "What? What did you just say?"

Kurt's bravery faltered and it took him a moment to get his mouth to open, but David beat him to it.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, you fuckin' faggot; you don't get to talk to me at all!" Karofsky took a step forward.

Kurt stumbled back a pace, but only to have each arm grabbed in a vice-like grip by the two men he'd forgotten about behind him. He felt his adrenaline spike.

"That's enough!" Blaine's voice rang out, loud and venomous.

Even Karofsky jumped a little at the sound. He turned to study the smaller boy. Blaine's eyes were dark, his mouth curled into a snarl. His hands shook.

The face before him had disturbed Karofsky, but the hands reminded him of his goal. He had won. He turned his attention back to Kurt, leaning in so their eyes were close, his voice low. "You watch your mouth and keep that homo shit out of this place. You're not at your Fag Fairyland prep school anymore. We don't do that here. Got it?"

Kurt nodded his head quickly, his bravery long gone.

Karofsky stepped back and nodded to the other two to let him go. Kurt slipped to the floor between them, terrified and near tears with embarrassment.

With one last glance in Blaine's direction, Karofsky stalked away. The whole group rushed toward Kurt, a frenzy of hands trying to pull him to his feet, their voices mixing together into a nonsensical garble of words. Kurt allowed them to pull him to his feet, but he ignored their demands he go to Figgins, their questions about if he had been hurt. He sought out Blaine's face. "What the hell were you thinking?"

The group moved a little from their crush around Kurt, allowing Blaine to move in closer. "Kurt, I'm sorry, I-"

"You're lucky he didn't try to smash your face in." Kurt snapped, and then louder he repeated again, "What the hell were you thinking!"

Blaine sighed, "He wouldn't."

The entire group stared at him in confusion. Puck was the one to finally speak up, "I'm not gonna lie, dude, that was bad ass and all, but the kid's double your size."

"Big, angry teddy bear." Blaine muttered, shaking his head. "There's a lot of bad people in this world, but Karofsky's a little dog with a loud bark. His anger comes from fear. That's all."

Kurt glowered at Blaine. "You didn't seem so sure of that when they had a hold of me."

"That- I- I wasn't going to risk that." Blaine's hand went up toward his hair, he startled a little when his fingers made contact with his sticky forehead.

"Slushie, Blaine." Kurt's tone evened out upon seeing Blaine shaken. "Blue, as you so wittily informed us."

Blaine frowned. "I'm sorry, Kurt, you're right- I shouldn't have provoked him."

"Still kinda nice to see him put in his place, though." Sam mumbled, he looked over at Kurt. "You want me to tell Coach Beast about this?"

Kurt shook his head, "No… it'll only piss him off. Let's just forget about it."

The group walked out to the parking lot together, not nearly as happy as they had been. They disbanded with reluctant good byes.

Kurt sent Finn to either Quinn or Rachel's (he didn't bother wedging his way into the awkward love triangle by asking questions) with their car while he road with Blaine. When they climbed into the car, Blaine pulled down his visor to study his blue-stained skin in the mirror. He grimaced. "Really, really not my color."

"I'm sorry you had to experience that at all," Kurt sighed, his previous anger melting into embarrassment that Blaine had witnessed his daily tormenting first hand.

"It's like being fully initiated into the McKinley Glee Club." Blaine offered Kurt a smile.

"Really though, Blaine, what were you hoping to prove?" Kurt sighed as they started down the road in the direction of his house.

Blaine was silent for a long time. "I don't want you to have to live in fear, Kurt. I've been there. I know what that's like…and Karofsky, he's not worth it."

"Oh, and your big bad bullies were?" Kurt snapped.

Blaine's hands momentarily gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as they pulled into the Hummel's empty driveway. "I told you, Kurt. I ran away. You're braver than I am."

"I'm not the one smiling at the guy about to turn my body into a bloody, corn syrup-covered pulp, Blaine. He's going to hold onto that and I don't get to skip on back to Dalton on Monday, in case you've forgotten." Kurt slammed the door to the car as he climbed out.

He punched in the garage code, but once it had fully risen, he was surprised to still hear the hum of Blaine's car engine. He let out a disgusted sigh and pivoted on his heel to stock toward the driver's side window.

Blaine's eyes were on his hands still gripping the steering wheel. Kurt had to wrap his knuckles on the glass to get him to acknowledge his presence. Blaine turned and looked at Kurt through the closed window. His face was a mask of pain and guilt.

Kurt's anger abated slightly. He pulled open Blaine's door and took a step back, folding his arms across his chest. He kept his tone short. "Well, are you just going to sit there?"

Blaine looked surprised, "Am I still invited in?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, and snapped. "Yes."

Blaine slowly climbed out of the car and closed the door, but rather than walk toward the house, he stood awkwardly in place, his right hand rising to rub the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make things worse for you, Kurt. I didn't even think-"

"That's right, you didn't think." Kurt knew he was being too harsh, but he couldn't stop himself.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt." Blaine's eyes went down to his shoes. "I wanted to make things better- I would never- I mean I did, but I couldn't-"

Blaine's words dissolved into silence.

Kurt regarded him for another moment, and it was his turn to feel remorseful. This was Blaine. Blaine who he loved; Blaine who loved him and wanted nothing more than to make him smile. Though not always well thought through (or thought through at all), every one of Blaine's intentions was good-natured. Kurt closed the space between them in a few steps and reached up a hand to touch Blaine's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Blaine's eyes flitted up to his own, surprised, he opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt shushed him.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you. Any of them. I should know better than to think you would ever do something to hurt me." Kurt smiled ruefully. "Forgive me?"

Blaine's face looked relieved, he used one arm to pull Kurt into a hug. "There's nothing to forgive. Thank you for putting up with, yet another of my less than brilliant plans. I never meant to-"

"Shut up, we're done talking about it." Kurt pulled out of Blaine's embrace. "Come on, you smell like high fructose corn syrup and artificial raspberry, let's get you cleaned up."

Blaine sat on the edge of the sink while Kurt washed his own face, and then good-naturedly, sat in an offered chair with his own head bent back under the running water. Kurt put on his best infomercial voice, explaining how to get the dye out of one's skin. "I have yet to perfect a technique for getting out the sticky spots that go all hard though—you can scrub and scrub, and they just stay sort of sticky for days."

"Oil." Blaine responded, his eyes closed.

"Oil?" Kurt replied dubiously, massaging shampoo through Blaine's hair once more.

"Olive oil." Blaine said confidently. "It takes awhile to get it out afterward, but it gets the job done.

"Bad hair gel experiences lead you to that conclusion?" Kurt smiled, washing away the white bubbles until the hair beneath his hands was clean and dark once again.

"Something like that." Blaine murmured, "I'm surprised you hadn't thought of it for yourself- you're usually so creative with your hair and skin tricks."

"I try to avoid intentionally making my hair greasy, thank you very much." As he smoothed in conditioner to Blaine's thick hair, he consciously avoided the scar, but with Blaine's eyes closed, he was able to scrutinize it without need for subtlety. It was a thin line that dipped away from his hairline only briefly then curved back up to disappear into the dark waves of hair above. He rinsed his hair once more before turning the water off and handing Blaine a towel. He seated himself on the counter and folded one leg over the other as he watched his boyfriend rub the towel over his head vigorously.

When Blaine was satisfied, he draped the towel over one shoulder and raked his fingers through his hair a few times, chattering about marketing slushie-clean up shampoos.

"Can I ask you something, and do you promise you'll be honest?" Kurt finally blurted.

Blaine's eyes moved from the mirror the Kurt. He was waiting.

"Do you really believe Karofsky wouldn't punch me?"

Blaine sighed, his smile fading- a look Kurt was beginning to find too familiar. "It would take a lot… but, for the most part, no, I don't think he would."

"Which is why you kept it so together when he shoved me." Kurt offered. Take the bait. He mentally urged.

Blaine looked remorseful yet again. "I know he scared you, and I didn't want him pushing you around, but… I didn't think he was going to hurt you."

He'd bitten down, and- though he felt just a little guilty about it- Kurt was going to reel him in. "So why did you get so upset when his friends grabbed me?"

Blaine looked momentarily surprised; a hand went to his neck. "It… it was…I wasn't going to keep stringing him along when you were involved."

"Blaine, you weren't just a little upset. Something set you off. Karofsky saw it and I saw it." Kurt was not going to just back down. He had seen more than just fury in Blaine's eyes earlier that day. He had seen panic.

Blaine took a step forward, closing both his hands around Kurt's, his eyes on them. "You…you're right."

Kurt felt the need to hold his breath, waiting for more.

"It just—old memories, I guess. It brought some stuff back up to the surface. And that, directed toward you- it was too much." Blaine's eyes finally came back to his. A sad smile playing at his lips, "I told you, you're braver than I am. My pluckiness only stretches so far."

Kurt sighed. "That's it?"

A line of confusion formed between Blaine's eyebrows, but the smile remained. "What else would there be?"

Kurt untangled Blaine's hands from his, and wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist. "I don't know. I never know with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine laughed, but he disentangled himself from Kurt's embrace to study his face.

"I feel like you know everything about me- down to my slushie-removal facial routine, and you're just some giant enigma for me to scratch my head over."

"I like to maintain an air of mysteriousness." Blaine winked; he snapped Kurt's knees with his towel once before waltzing out of the bathroom.

"Blaine." Kurt whined, trailing after him.

"Yes, dear?" Blaine stretched himself out across Kurt's bed, his towel abandoned on the floor.

"This is what I'm talking about, you avoid every question I try to ask you." Kurt picked up the towel and dropped it in the laundry hamper before going back to stand at the side of the bed, his hands on his hips.

Blaine rolled from his stomach to his back and stretched an arm out toward Kurt, beckoning him to join him, still smiling.

Kurt sighed and begrudgingly lay down beside his boyfriend, but Blaine was not content to let him play at being irritated. He used an arm to roll Kurt into his side and growled in his ear.

"Not in the mood to play, Blaine." Kurt tried to wriggle out of Blaine's hold.

Blaine held tight and laughed, "All right, I get it. You're mad at me. Come on, ask me something."

Kurt glanced at Blaine to see if he was playing another game. His face looked sincere, but apparently Kurt hadn't reacted fast enough.

"I have one for you, first." Blaine released his hold on Kurt so he could roll back onto his stomach, hugging one of Kurt's pillows beneath his head and chest.

"Fine." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"First guy you had a crush on and when." Blaine demanded with a smile.

Kurt couldn't resist his own smile. "His name was Tyler Marsh. I was nine. He had great shoes."

"Things didn't work out?" Blaine guessed.

Kurt slowly settled himself down on his side, facing Blaine, with his chin propped in one hand. "Not exactly. My love went unvoiced and then he moved to Kentucky."

"Mine was my third grade baseball coach. He was a college student at NYU, home for the summer to make some money." Blaine sighed blissfully.

Kurt snorted. "The ten year age gap didn't bother you too much?"

Blaine's voice remained dreamy. "I knew, even in my youth, that age is just a number…. who was the first guy you actually declared your love to?"

Kurt groaned. "Can we not go there?"

"You witnessed my Gap Attack first hand, you honestly think you've done worse than that?" Blaine blushed.

"True…Oh God, fine, it was Finn." He closed his eyes, mortified to even consider how obsessed he had been.

Blaine choked back a laugh. "Wow, well, probably a good thing that didn't work out then."

"Oh God, let's move past this. Other than Rachel, have you ever been with a girl?"

Blaine looked thoughtful, then smiled almost fondly. "Sort of… she was one of my best friends in middle school, Nadia. She knew I was gay, but we thought we'd test the waters a little anyway- we made out at the movie theater, I went for second and we both got so uncomfortable we couldn't talk for a week."

"Have you ever been with another guy?" Kurt ventured, suddenly awkward.

Blaine shrugged, "I've kissed a few guys I've met at parties, stuff like that…"

"No, I mean…" Kurt felt a blush creep into his face, so he lay his head down on the pillow beside Blaine, hoping to hide his pink cheeks. "I guess, what I'm asking is, well-have you ever- uh- Oh, to hell with it, are you a virgin?"

Blaine's smile faded, he let a long breath out his nose, and he rolled over onto his back, a hand tucked behind his head. "I…I'm not really sure."

"How can you not be sure?" Kurt frowned. He had just embarrassed himself half to death trying to force his question out, and the answer wasn't an answer at all!

Blaine's eyes had a distant quality to them for a moment, before he shook his head, bringing himself back from whatever mental path he'd been traveling down. "Can we stick with sort of?"

"What does that even mean?" Kurt complained.

"Kurt, some things… they're just complicated."

"So explain them to me." Kurt urged.

Blaine used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly. "I'd rather just leave it at sort of."

Kurt sat up, irritated once again, "This is what I'm talking about, Blaine, as soon as I ask you anything personal, you dance around the whole thing."

Blaine sat up too, he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin atop them. "I'm not trying to avoid you, Kurt. There are just some things I'm not…ready…to explain. I don't even know if I can."

"But when you are ready…" Kurt trailed off.

Blaine dropped a hand down to squeeze Kurt's ankle. "You will be the very first one to know."

"Promise?" It hadn't been the response Kurt had hoped for, but it was a start.

Blaine flinched and grinned. "Ugh, yes, I promise."

Kurt laughed when Blaine suddenly untangled himself to tackle and pin Kurt to the bed, but, even as Blaine's kisses trailed along his face, he couldn't help but feel that that momentary grimace Blaine had given him was far more real than the smile. Kurt let out a soft gasp when Blaine's teeth grazed his jaw line. He had at least gotten the promise of answers and for now he could wait, preferring to focus on Blaine's fingers grazing his side beneath his shirt rather than the reasons for scars and nightmares.