Chapter 13

Kurt stared at his computer screen. The 'Message Sent' screen stared back.

He wasn't sure why he was still sitting there; he'd promised Blaine he'd be in New Albany by noon, but a glance to the top right corner of his screen informed him it was nearing eleven. He considered reading through the message one more time; his pointer hovering over the sent messages icon… but what was the point? It was done.

With a definitive click, he shut the laptop and rolled off his bed to inspect himself in front of the mirror. He turned from side to side; inspecting his hair and then his outfit—he looked perfect, of course—dark jeans and a maroon button down sweater vest that reached nearly to his knees. Blaine liked that vest; he'd be sure to comment on it. Kurt met his own gaze in the glass, and, much to his dismay, his eyes were red.

"Stop it." He whispered to his reflection. He straightened up even taller; angled his chin and tried to smile. It was a little better.

He typed out a quick message to Blaine informing him he was running late as he jogged down the steps.

"Kurt, honey, is that you?" Carol called from the kitchen.

"Yes, I'm going to Blaine's," Kurt grabbed his keys off the hall table and made for the garage door.

"Wait!" Carol hurried out of the kitchen and shoved a Tupperware into his hands with a smile.

Kurt tipped it sideways to try and look through the clear plastic, "For Blaine?"

"Yes, and his little cousins," Carol touched two quick kisses to Kurt's cheek, "One of those is for him, too. Tell him we miss having him over."

"He misses you, too. He tells me all the time," Kurt glanced at the hall clock, "I shouldn't be too late tonight."

"Just make sure you call before you leave," Carol looked him over, her smile fading a little, "Are you feeling all right?"

Kurt frowned at her, "I'm fine; why, do I not look all right?"

"You look as dashing as ever, honey," Carol laughed a little, "You just seem… I'm not sure really, just a feeling I suppose. Have a nice time with the Andersons."

"I will; thanks again for baking for Blaine; he worships your cooking," Kurt moved toward the door.

"As soon as he's feeling up to coming over, I'll make him anything he wants," Carol stood in the open door to the garage as Kurt climbed into his car.

"You'll regret that offer if you actually follow through with it," Kurt smiled and waved to her as he pulled out of the driveway.

He'd barely gone a mile when he noticed the little light by his gas meter. He groaned, wishing he'd had the foresight to fill up the tank the night before. He pulled into the nearest gas station and climbed out, irritated by the additional time it would take to make it to New Albany. He leaned against the side of his car and watched the numbers rise.

"Kurt?" A female voice sounded from the other side of the pump and then a head of pretty blonde hair was poking around the side to look at him. Quinn.

He smiled for her, "Hi."

She glanced at the meter on her side of the pump before coming around to his side with a smile, "I thought I recognized your car; how are you?"

"I'm all right," Kurt smiled faintly, "And you?"

"I'm fine," Quinn folded her arm across her middle, "How's Blaine? I haven't seen him since that chemotherapy thing."

"He's all right," Kurt glanced toward his meter as the numbers continued to climb, "I'm going to see him right now."

She nodded and stood quiet by his side for a moment before speaking again, "I'm on my way to a job interview."

Kurt looked her outfit over—a navy cardigan over a lemon yellow dress—"Well, I must say you're certainly dressed to impress. What's the job?"

Quinn's eyes stayed trained on the gas pump, "Receptionist at some real estate company my mom's friend works at."

"It's a step in the right direction, right?" Kurt offered lamely, "You wanted to go into real estate."

"It's what I always thought I'd do. It's not exactly glamorous, but…" She finished the sentence with a shrug. The numbers came to an abrupt stop on Kurt's meter.

"Yeah, well," Kurt pulled the pump from the car and replaced the fuel cap, "Life isn't always as pretty as we want it to be, is it?"

Quinn blushed and looked down to her shoes, "No, I guess not."

On an impulse, Kurt reached out and squeezed her arm lightly, "It was nice running into you Quinn."

She looked up to his eyes and smiled, "You, too… I wish it would happen more often."

"Would planned coffee dates be up to par with serendipitous rendezvous' at the gas station?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow.

She laughed a little, "I'd like that. I have your number; I'll call you."

"Good luck with the interview," Kurt smiled at her one more time as he climbed into his car.

"Thank you; tell Blaine I say hi," She waved before dipping back around the pump to her own car.

Kurt watched her in his rearview mirror as he turned back out onto the road and felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Poor Quinn.

As he'd grown accustom to doing, he turned up his music too loud for the long drive ahead and willed his mind blank until he was parking behind Harry and Elaine's Escalade in the driveway.

Kurt snatched the Tupperware from the passenger seat and jogged up to the door.

Harry opened it and looked him over with a smile, "Well, Kurt, I almost didn't recognize you out here without Blaine plastered to your face."

Kurt was fairly certain his face was the same color as his vest, "I, um—"

Harry laughed and stepped aside to make room for him to come in, "Relax, Kiddo, I'm only joking. You came just in time for the show, by the way."

"Show?" Kurt frowned at him in confusion.

"The women are putting on all kinds of theatrics; Blaine hit his head."

"He what?" Kurt snapped, looking around wildly for where Blaine might be.

"Not you, too," Harry groaned, "He's perfectly all right, he says so himself."

"Blaine would insist he was okay if someone ran him over with their car," Kurt shook his head, "Where is he?"

"Kitchen," Harry motioned a hand toward the room, "Be careful, though, he's got a nasty temper today, too."

"Perfect," Kurt rolled his eyes and hurried toward the kitchen.

"—Are you sure it's not—"

"Yes."

"Blaine, you didn't even let me finish."

"You've asked the same three questions fifty times!"

"Blaine, stop shouting."

"Stop asking me if I'm all right!"

The women were standing in a ring around Blaine where he sat in a kitchen chair. Kurt brushed past them and eyed the icepack Blaine was holding to his forehead, "What happened?"

Blaine scowled at him, "Nothing!"

"He fell playing with the girls," Elaine folded her arms across her chest.

"And you've all turned it into such a fucking big deal that Natalie's upstairs bawling her eyes out because she thinks she's half-killed me!" Blaine glowered around at them.

"Blaine, language," Helen scolded.

"I will stop swearing when you all stop acting like I'm going to drop dead from cracking my head on the coffee table." Blaine snapped at her. Three days had done little to ease his feelings toward her since their fight at the dinner table.

Elizabeth glanced at the clock and then back at Blaine, "I still think we should take you in just to check—"

"Check what? If bumping my head has somehow made the tumor grow?" Blaine glowered at her.

"He won't even let us look at it," Elaine gave Kurt a tired look.

"He is sitting right next to you and doesn't—" Blaine's eyes went down to his lap as though searching for the dropped word.

"Appreciate being talked about like he's not even here?" Kurt filled.

Blaine's eyes drifted up to meet his, "Yes."

Kurt appraised Blaine for a minute and then turned his attention to Elaine, "I propose a deal."

Helen turned to look at him suspiciously but waited quietly for him to continue.

"If Blaine will let one of you check his head, you'll let him be about it," Kurt met Blaine's gaze, "Is that all right by everyone?"

The women nodded reluctantly.

"No," Blaine said flatly. He glared around at the women, "Kurt can check."

Elizabeth looked toward Kurt, clearly stung she wasn't going to be permitted to help him, but she nodded anyway, "Fair enough."

Helen gave Kurt a pointed look but said nothing.

When they all remained standing around him, Blaine let out an irritated sigh, "I don't remember agreeing to an audience."

The women looked at him in mild surprise before shuffling out and leaving them alone.

Just the tumor. Kurt tried to tell himself again and again, but his heart still stung. This was not Blaine; Blaine wasn't nasty and rude—he wouldn't ever hurt his mother that way, still, Kurt couldn't help himself from commenting, "They just love you, Blaine; they're well-intentioned."

"Their good intentions are about to make me throw myself off a cliff." Blaine grumbled.

Kurt sighed; the fight was pointless. He reached out and stroked his hand over Blaine's atop the icepack, "Can I see now?"

Blaine remained still for a moment before pulling the ice away.

Kurt took a step closer and smoothed his fingers over the angry bump already turning purple, "How hard did you hit your head?"

"Dunno," Blaine shrugged, "How do you measure head hitting hardness?"

"Scale of one to ten—one being patting someone on the head and ten being knocking yourself unconscious." Kurt brushed his fingers over the dark hair atop Blaine's head—it had thinned out a little, but it still covered almost everything save the scar.

"Who's doing the patting—you or Harry?"

Kurt looked down to meet Blaine's eyes. He was smiling, "Me."

"A four." Blaine tipped his head up to smile at Kurt.

"How's it feel now?" Kurt traced his thumb around the shell of Blaine's ear and touched a kiss to the wounded spot.

"Much better," When Kurt made to straighten up, Blaine grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back in to press a kiss to his mouth.

Kurt felt an immediate lightness in his shoulders; like some part of the morning wasn't bearing down quite so hard with the sudden touch of Blaine's mouth to his. He lifted the ice pack from where Blaine had abandoned it on the kitchen table and pressed it back to Blaine's head, "You should tell your mother you love her."

"What for?" Blaine looked at him in surprise.

"She needs to hear it," Kurt offered Blaine a hand, but, as usual, Blaine ignored it and stood on his own.

"What I need is to prove to Natalie I'm not dead," Blaine looked at the Tupperware Kurt had dropped down on the kitchen table, "What's that?"

"Presents from Carol," Kurt pressed a quick kiss to Blaine's cheek, "That's from her, too. You've also been offered a free meal of your choosing in the Hudson-Hummel home front as soon as you're up to the drive over."

"Can we go tonight?" Blaine looked up from the Tupperware hopefully.

Kurt hesitated, "We could see what your mom thinks."

Blaine made a face at him, but his irritation was quickly overcome when he pulled the lid off the plastic container, "I still don't understand why she doesn't open up a bakery…or try to take over the world."

"Because she's only interested in ensuring Finn doesn't get too hungry and accidentally eat Rachel, making me fat, and spoiling you endlessly." Kurt shrugged.

Blaine stared down into the container for another minute before plucking three from the box and replacing the lid.

"Three?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, "I'm not judging; I'm actually very impressed."

Blaine dropped the Tupperware down on the island, "Sorry to crush your hopes, but only one's for me; the other two are for the girls."

Kurt followed after Blaine out of the kitchen but paused at the base of the stairs, "I'll meet you up there. I'm going to give your mom a detailed medical report on your head."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "I'll shout if I'm going to drop dead from hemorrhaging or something while you're gone."

Kurt shot him one last disapproving frown before wandering back to the family room where the women were seated.

Elizabeth was on her feet the second he was through the door, "Well?"

"He's fine; it's just a nasty bump," Kurt shrugged, "He's in a better mood now, too."

Elizabeth let out a relieved sigh, "He's been nasty like that off and on all day."

"How was he with the girls?" Kurt glanced over his shoulder, suddenly apprehensive about leaving Blaine alone to search out Natalie.

"Fine," a shadow of a smile crossed Elizabeth's face, "They were playing hide and seek. He was chasing after Natalie when he fell."

"He's upstairs looking for her right now with cookies for a peace offering," Kurt waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen, "Carol sent over a whole box of them."

"Bless her," Elizabeth sighed, "I really should send something home with you soon—she's always sending things over here."

"She loves to do it—she loves Blaine," Kurt shrugged. He glanced over his shoulder again to ensure Blaine was still out of earshot, "Speaking of Carol, Blaine was hoping he'd be able to come over soon."

Elizabeth tilted her head thoughtfully, "How soon?"

Kurt shifted his weight to his other foot, "Um… tonight actually."

Elizabeth bit her lip as she considered it.

"I think you still need to take him in to his doctor's office, Liz," Helen spoke carefully, "The fact that he fell at all is concerning."

"He didn't really fall; he tripped," Elizabeth looked between Kurt and her mother-in-law, "And I wouldn't be able to get him in any earlier than tomorrow."

"Do you really want him so far from home when there's even the chance that something might be wrong?" Helen's frown intensified.

Kurt couldn't help but think of Blaine's seizure in the parking lot; the lonely hours in the waiting room, "…She's right."

Helen and Elizabeth both looked at Kurt in surprise.

Kurt nodded slowly, "Maybe another day that's going a little more smoothly. We could leave earlier, too, so he wouldn't need to spend the night."

Helen's eyes widened at the mention of Blaine sleeping over even being a prospect, but she didn't comment on the matter.

Elizabeth looked relieved to have the decision made for her, "John could always drop him off, so you wouldn't be making two trips."

Kurt nodded half-heartedly, "Definitely… I'm going to go upstairs and find Blaine."

"Kurt, if he gets upset about not being able to come to Lima…" Elizabeth trailed off; looking guilty.

"He'll be fine," Kurt smiled reassuringly and made for the stairs before he could get pulled into another circle of conversation with the women. He paused on the steps to check his phone. He had a new e-mail. He ignored it and shoved it as deep into his back pocket as he could before jogging up to the landing. He followed the sound of Blaine's voice coming from his bedroom.

He was stretched out on the bed with a book resting on his knees. Natalie was snuggled beside him with her head on his shoulder. She looked up when Kurt entered, "Blaine's reading me a book."

Kurt crossed the room and peered down at the pages, "What book?"

"Love You Forever," Natalie pulled the book from Blaine's hands to show Kurt the cover.

"That was my mother's favorite book to read to me when I was little," Kurt looked over the glossy cover.

"Really?" Blaine's gaze went up to Kurt; he smiled, "That was my mom's favorite, too."

He nodded and settled onto the bed beside Natalie and changed the subject; he didn't want to talk about his mother today, "I take it everything got sorted out between you two, then?"

Natalie nodded and looked to Blaine for confirmation, "It was a big accident is all."

"Silly accident," Blaine corrected.

"Can we keep reading?" Natalie put the book back down on Blaine's lap.

"Yeah, if you can remind me what page we were on," Blaine flipped idly past the first few pages.

"This one," Natalie pointed to the picture on the page she'd opened to.

"Right," Blaine sat up a little straighter on the bed, "The little boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until—"

"We read that part already, we're here," Natalie pointed a few lines down.

"Excuse me, Miss Smart Pants, why don't you just read it to me?" Blaine teased.

"Because I want you to read it. Keep going," Natalie nuzzled her head back into Blaine's shoulder.

"All right, all right," Blaine sighed and looked back to the book, "But at night time, when he was asleep—"

Natalie frowned up at Blaine when he fell mute, his gaze was focused on the page, "Blaine?"

"Um, I…" Blaine scanned the words again.

"—the mother quietly opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor and looked up over the side of the bed. If he was really asleep, she picked up that nine-year-old boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang." Kurt didn't lean in any closer to see the page. He knew the words, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

Blaine threw him a grateful smile and shifted the book closer to Kurt as he turned the page.

"The boy grew, he grew and he grew and he grew…" Kurt continued on with the story and Natalie made no comment on the switch in her narrator.

She stayed cuddled against Blaine's arm and listened intently through the last page and sighed contentedly, "That's a nice book."

"Yes it is," Blaine finally broke his silence and pushed the book onto Natalie's lap, "I bet you could read the whole thing yourself."

Natalie's face lit up, "I'm going to go read it to Ava and my mom."

"I'm sure they'd love that," Blaine looked around as though worried about an audience before dropping his voice, "There's more cookies downstairs, too; I bet you could sneak another one before dinner tonight."

Natalie's eyes went wide. She scurried off the bed and out the door without another word.

"The love for Carol's baking must be genetic," Kurt mused; stretching out his back as he sat up higher on the bed.

"I think the love for her baking is universal," Blaine stared up at the slow rotation of the ceiling fan.

Kurt stood and shut the door before stretching himself back out on the bed. He folded his arms across Blaine's stomach and rested his chin atop them. As they lay quietly, Kurt's mind drifted to it's usual default setting: the mental checklist.

The daily walk, Blaine's chemo day on Thursday, the e-mail—no, wait, that could be checked off—calling Rachel, now a coffee date with Quinn could be added to the list; sitting his father down for a talk…

"Are you okay?" Blaine's hand brushed through his hair.

Kurt roused himself from his mental planning, "Hm?"

"You seem upset," Blaine frowned at him.

"In what way?" Kurt tried to recall anything he could have done to let on about his mood. He'd been careful to seem cheerful.

Blaine looked momentarily hurt, "I can still tell when you're hurting, Kurt. I'm not that far gone."

Kurt caught Blaine's hand resting on his neck in his own, "I wasn't trying to imply you were. I just don't know why you'd think I was upset about something. I'm in a perfectly decent mood today."

"I thought maybe it was because I've been so awful today," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt studied him quietly, "I didn't know you knew when you were in those sorts of moods."

"I…" Blaine looked toward the line of prescription bottles on his desk, "I don't really… but I can see it on everyone's faces when I've hurt them."

"You didn't hurt me," Kurt touched a kiss to Blaine's hand still folded in his.

"You always just look so…relieved though. Like me being civil toward you is the greatest thing you've ever experienced," Blaine's eyes moved back to his.

"I do enjoy when you're nice to me," Kurt teased and squeezed Blaine's hand tighter.

"You shouldn't have to be excited just because I'm acting human," Blaine looked away again, "If that's the standard for how your boyfriend is supposed to treat you, then you might as well be dating Karofsky. You deserve better than this."

"Hey, look at me," Kurt pulled at Blaine's shoulders until he was sitting up too.

Blaine met his gaze reluctantly.

"My standard for my boyfriend is part of a package deal where we need to be the most loyal, supportive, and loving people we can be for one another," Kurt folded both of Blaine's hands between his, "and part of that deal is us taking care of each other when things aren't at their best. You're still you and I'm still me; I can take a few road bumps in all this if you can."

Blaine tilted his head forward until his forehead was touching Kurt's, "How'd I end up with someone as amazing as you?"

"I came for the tacky blazer and stayed for the coffee dates," Kurt smiled, "The kissing doesn't hurt the cause either."

"What about the lack of sex?" Blaine's eyes were so close they were just a blur of warm honey in Kurt's vision, "Has that been a deterrent yet in all this?"

"It's cramping my style a bit, but I can handle it for now." Kurt smiled weakly.

Blaine was quiet for another minute, "…what is it then?"

"What's what?"

"The thing that's bothering you; what is it?" Blaine sat up straighter to study Kurt's face.

Kurt hesitated for the briefest of moments, but recovered quickly; there was no way he could tell him. Not yet; not today, "It's nothing. Really."

Blaine studied him again, his mouth turning down into a frown, "You're lying to me."

"Oh, honestly, Blaine, stop," Kurt rolled his eyes and shifted around until he was sitting behind Blaine. He rubbed his shoulders lightly, "You're being paranoid."

"I am not," Blaine turned his head to frown at Kurt, but he made no move to get away from the contact, "And you're rubbing my back in an attempt to distract me."

"I am rubbing your back in an attempt to seduce you because you mentioned sex," Kurt teased.

Blaine's attention was snagged for a moment, "You want to have sex with my entire family in the house?"

Kurt laughed quietly, "No. Knowing our luck, Harry would walk in when I was mid-orgasm. I just want to be horribly self-indulgent and feel you."

"Not much to feel these days," Blaine studied his arm with a wrinkled nose.

"We'll fatten you back up in no time," Kurt rubbed his thumbs down to the base of Blaine's spine and wrapped his arms around his middle to run his fingers over his stomach, "I'm going to spoil you rotten."

Blaine traced his fingers over Kurt's forearms, "You already do."

"This is nothing compared to what we're going to do when you're doing a little better," Kurt rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder, "We're going to run away to the beach and get a hotel room and do nothing but eat ridiculously good food, drink expensive wine, and endlessly make love."

Blaine lifted his hand to Kurt's chin and turned his face until their lips were nearly touching, "Lets just go now."

"We'll run away tonight." Kurt murmured before the heat of Blaine's mouth so close was too much.

Blaine twisted around to face him; one hand on his face and the other against his chest, pushing at him to lie down.

Blaine rocked his hips down and Kurt moaned into his mouth—it had been far too long since he'd felt the weight of Blaine's body pressing down on his own; the hot slide of sweat soaked skin on skin; he pressed back against the contact.

"I love this thing on you," Blaine murmured between kisses; his fingers tracing the neckline of Kurt's shirt.

Kurt smiled against Blaine's mouth, "I wondered how long it would take you to notice I was wearing it."

"Mm, I think I'd like it even better off," Blaine turned his mouth down to Kurt's neck; sucking at his throat; tugging the neckline of his undershirt lower to access his collarbone.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed out his name and tilted his chin back farther to give Blaine even more access to his neck. He shouldn't feel this turned on from just making out; his breath shouldn't be catching just because Blaine had managed to undo the buttons of his vest. He moved a hand to the back of Blaine's head and was momentarily confused when there were no dark curls for him to tangle his fingers in.

Blaine paused in his kisses; his steadier hand held the hem of Kurt's shirt, but it, too, remained suspended. He knew what Kurt's fingers had been searching for. Slowly, he uncurled his hand from Kurt's shirt and sat back on Kurt's lap.

"Blaine…" Kurt felt his cheeks flushing red at the notion of having upset Blaine, "What's wrong?"

"Is this… " Blaine bit his lip, "is this okay for you?"

"Can you feel what you're sitting on right now?" Kurt reached up to grip Blaine's hips, "It's more than okay."

Blaine smiled a little, but his eyes didn't meet Kurt's, "I know I'm not exactly in top form right now—what with the Auschwitz-esque physique and lack of hair, but—"

"But nothing. You're gorgeous, and even if you can't form all of your words all the time, your mouth has never been better," Kurt rubbed his thumbs over the line of Blaine's pelvis.

Blaine met his gaze, "Really?"

"You are sitting on hard evidence," Kurt cringed when Blaine raised his eyebrows, "No pun intended."

Blaine smiled a little, "Are you sure that's not just from lack of a sexual outlet for like a month?"

"For the sake of my dignity and not wanting to seem naturally overeager, I'm going to say that might be playing a small factor," Kurt laughed quietly and blushed.

"Feels pretty big to me," Blaine rotated his hips once, grinding down on the bulge already aching in Kurt's pants.

"Oh my God, don't tease." Kurt moaned and pulled at Blaine's shirt in an effort to get his mouth closer to his own.

Blaine stretched back out on top of him, making a point of rubbing his body down Kurt's with unbearable friction until his mouth was right beside his ear, tickling his skin with hot, humid breath, "Is it still constituted as teasing if I follow through?"

Kurt had only a momentary fear of hurting Blaine when he crashed his mouth back against his, but then Blaine's nails were biting into the skin of his side and all coherent thought was gone. He pulled Blaine's shirt over his head quickly and rubbed his fingers down his back; into the hem of his pants and around to the front; he undid the button with one quick movement and pressed his hand down farther beneath the elastic band of his underwear—

"Blaine! There's someone at the door for you!"

Kurt startled at the sound of Elaine's voice so close to the door. He rolled Blaine off of him easily, "Blaine."

"Hmm?" Blaine blinked at him from where he now lay at Kurt's side. His cheeks were flushed and his chest rose and fell noticeably as he caught his breath.

"Apparently you have a visitor," Kurt worked at buttoning his vest as quickly as he could, suddenly paranoid of someone walking in. He was grateful for the length of his vest or else he would have never been able to leave Blaine's room.

Blaine sat up on the bed cross-legged and smiled at Kurt as he watched him frantically try to pull himself back into some semblance of order, "Hey, Kurt?"

"Blaine, go downstairs and see who's here, if your grandma comes up here and sees a closed door and—"

"Like you for always."

Kurt paused in his flurry of movement. Blaine smiled back at him blithely. Kurt crawled back onto the bed and pressed a quiet kiss to his mouth, "Love you forever."

They smiled at one another and said nothing for a long moment.

"Blaine! Door!" Elaine called again.

"We'd better get down there," Blaine made a face and gave Kurt one more quick kiss before pulling his shirt back over his head and moving to the door, "Coming?"

Kurt followed after him down the stairs, ignoring Helen's suspicious glare as they made their way to the front door.

Blaine stopped abruptly, when he saw who was leaning against the doorframe.

The first thing Kurt noticed were the boy's eyes—so piercingly green as to almost look artificial beneath long auburn hair. The second thing he noticed was the distinct smell of cigarette smoke seeping off of his leather jacket.

The boy didn't straighten up as they approached. He looked Blaine over slowly, his expression momentarily distraught, but when his eyes met Blaine's, he just frowned, "Fuck, Anderson, I didn't want to believe it was true."

"Yeah, well," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt was momentarily hung up on the fact that this guy with the leather jacket and the green eyes was also in possesion of a vaguely English sounding accent.

"And after all that shit you gave me about frying my brain," The boy smirked and shook his head.

Kurt momentarily forgot the accent and the eyes in favor of feeling suddenly defensive. He took a step closer to Blaine.

The boy noticed him then and, despite Kurt's irritation, he blushed under those eyes being so entirely on him, "Well, well, well; look what we have here. You must be Kurt. You're much prettier in person than that picture Blaine carries around of you."

Kurt straightened up and folded his arms across his chest; he gave the boy a once over and his best judgmental bitch face, "And you are…."

"The guy noticing you buttoned your vest-dress thing wrong," The boy nodded toward Kurt's chest with a smirk before turning his gaze back to Blaine, "Afternoon delight with the entire family home, Blaine? Your brain really is fucked right now, isn't it?"

Kurt was fumbling to fix his shirt and feeling nothing but seething hatred for the gorgeous stranger in the doorway, but Blaine was laughing, "Not too fucked to forget how a proper introduction works. Kurt, this is Trip Morgan."