Kurt knocked on Blaine's door the next afternoon with some trepidation. He had rehearsed his song repeatedly the night before with some much-appreciated help from Rachel, but he was still nervous to sing it in front of Blaine.

Blaine opened the door with a smile. Kurt's heart nearly stopped at how...sexy Blaine looked. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair slightly rumpled. For Blaine's part, he seemed to be eyeing Kurt up and down as well. Kurt had to admit he'd gone to great pains to look good today, and it wasn't for the sake of Marissa Montgomery.

"Hey, come on in." Blaine turned and walked towards his living room. Kurt entered the apartment, closing the door behind him and taking in Blaine's home. Straight ahead was a living room area with a couch, a coffee table, an entertainment center with a large flat screen, a video game console and a sizable stereo, a small bookcase, and – the most dominating feature of the room – a giant black piano situated in a nook underneath large windows that looked out on the street. Kurt could also see a guitar on a stand next to the piano seat. There was a closed door off of the living room area that Kurt assumed led to Blaine's bedroom.

Kurt was pleasantly surprised to find that Blaine's apartment was both impeccably decorated in a minimalist but very sophisticated style and immaculately clean. He wondered idly if Blaine had cleaned it especially for Kurt or if it always stayed this clean.

Blaine turned to Kurt, running his hand through his already tousled hair. A small gap of skin showed between Blaine's sweatpants and his t-shirt and Kurt detected a hint of dark hair on Blaine's tone abdomen. He shivered, forcing himself to look away. "You can just set your stuff down wherever," Blaine said, "and I guess we can, uh, just go ahead and get started."

"Okay," Kurt replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He sat his bag on Blaine's couch and turned to the other boy who was standing sort of awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Sooo," Kurt said to break the ice. "Who should go first?"

"Definitely you," Blaine said immediately with a teasing smile.

"Why me?" Kurt asked with mock indignation. Well, mostly mocking. He really did not want to go first.

"Because it's your turn," Blaine replied. "You told me your song choice first and I told you my reason for picking my song first. Now it's your turn to go first again."

"Ah-" Kurt began to protest, but he realized he had no rebuttal to Blaine's argument. Kurt himself had been the one to suggest turns in the first place. He released the nervous breath he was holding. "Fine," he grumbled. He dug through his bag for his iPod and auxiliary chord. Blaine took them from Kurt and went to set Kurt's iPod up on his stereo.

Kurt wandered casually over to Blaine's bookcase to keep his mind off of the intimate performance he was about to have to give. Kurt perused the shelves which were covered in equal parts with books, DVDs, and CDs. He was pleased to see almost all of his favorite musicals had made the cut. Pleased, but ultimately not surprised – Blaine was a musical theatre major, after all.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Alright, all set."

Kurt tried to surreptitiously take a calming breath before straightening to go over to the stereo system. He took the iPod from Blaine, scrolling through it until he got to the track he needed.

"I'll just..." Blaine trailed off, gesturing to the piano bench. He went and sat down gingerly, looking at Kurt.

Kurt closed his eyes briefly, trying to go to the calm place he reserved for right before performances. He realized he hadn't been this edgy since his audition for NYADA, and it struck Kurt as ironic that he was more nervous about singing privately for Blaine than he was about his first official performance as a NYADA student. He couldn't help it, though. For some reason, he really wanted to impress Blaine, maybe equally as much as he had wanted to impress Carmen Tibideaux.

Kurt was battling between showing too much to Blaine, someone who was practically a stranger, and not giving an emotional performance, thus completely failing at the assignment. Ultimately, the performer in Kurt won out. This was, after all, a rehearsal, and Blaine's feedback could be critical in determining Kurt's first grade in his musical theatre techniques class.

To put himself in the right frame of mind, Kurt thought back to his high school days – long, lonely days filled with watching everyone else fall in and out of love and knowing that wasn't in the cards for him. His embarrassment at coming on to his straight guy friends in an almost predatory fashion out of sheer desperation. And then, niggling in the back of Kurt's mind was the feeling of failure at having finally escaped Lima only to come to New York and still find himself alone. Kurt felt utterly unlovable.

With all of that emotional turmoil inside of him, he pressed play on his iPod, sat it down, opened his eyes and began to sing.

Blaine sat on the piano bench trying to look nonchalant. He was nervous to have to sing for Kurt, but he was actually a lot more anxious than he thought he would be to watch the other boy perform as well. Kurt had already heard Blaine sing in competitions when they were in school, but Kurt had never had any solos at sectionals and regionals, so Blaine had never heard him.

Blaine knew Kurt had to be a good singer – he had gotten into NYADA after all – but he was afraid Kurt's performance would be lacking and he would have to find some delicate way to help Kurt improve it.

A bigger part of Blaine, a part he refused to acknowledge, was worried about the state of himself when he heard Kurt sing for the first time. He knew there was a chance that Kurt's voice would change life as he knew it.

And when Kurt opened his mouth and began to sing, Blaine knew he was right.

Turn down the lights, turn down the bed
Turn down these voices inside my head
Lay down with me, tell me no lies
Just hold me close, don't patronize - don't patronize me

I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't

Kurt refused to meet Blaine's eyes, but Blaine didn't have to directly look into Kurt's eyes to know the pain he was feeling, the hardships he must have endured for so long, the utter loneliness he had had to go through.

Blaine couldn't imagine anything worse than that loneliness, and Kurt's song stirred that insecurity inside of Blaine so much that he felt he was becoming more emotional over Kurt's performance than Kurt himself was.

I'll close my eyes, then I won't see
The love you don't feel when you're holding me
Morning will come and I'll do what's right
Just give me till then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight

Kurt's voice broke when he sang about giving up, and Blaine thought, no Kurt. Don't ever, ever give up.

I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these lonely hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't

Blaine saw Kurt close his eyes to keep the tears shining on his lids at bay. Blaine thought about all the school dances Kurt must have missed or gone to without a date, weekends spent alone at home while his friends were out with their boyfriends and girlfriends.

Kurt hadn't said as much, but Blaine could tell from Kurt's body language during the retelling of his high school days that Kurt had been bullied at least a little.

It struck Blaine that though Kurt seemed shy and very fragile, to have made it as far as he had, Kurt must be a very strong person, much stronger than Blaine himself was. In that moment, he felt deep-seated remorse for every vulgar or minimalizing thought he had had about this beautiful boy pouring out his soul in Blaine's living room.

The piano chords came to a close softly, and silence filled the room. Kurt finally opened his eyes, and Blaine couldn't look away from them. Kurt cleared his throat. "So?" he asked tentatively.

"Kurt," Blaine's voice broke. "That was...amazing." Blaine tried to come up with something else to say, but he was speechless. "Amazing" didn't even begin to cover how Kurt had made him feel with his song.

Kurt's cheeks flushed a deep crimson and he bit his bottom lip. "Th-thank you." Both boys looked at each other for a few seconds. "No notes, then?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Blaine released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "No, none. Just...do it exactly like that and I can't imagine you getting anything less than an A."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, a small smile creeping up on his face. "Okay."

After Kurt finished his song and Blaine confirmed that he had done a good job, Kurt tried to purge all the negativity from himself that he had had to take on to fill the song with emotion. He thought of the shame that washed over him and the self-loathing and he tried to release it from himself by thinking of the love and happiness he had in his life. Just thinking of the faces of people he cared about – his father, Finn, Carol, Rachel, Mercedes, Tina – made him visibly calmer.

He gestured to the stereo and said, "Your turn?"

"Ah, actually, I was going to play for my performance tomorrow," Blaine replied somewhat hesitantly, nodding his head in the direction of his piano behind him. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Kurt thought for a second. "Well, do you remember what Gates said about playing for our performances? Do you think playing will enhance your performance instead of detracting from it?"

"I mean, I think so," Blaine said. "After all, learning to play the piano is tied up into my memories and the reason why I chose this song in the first place."

"Alright," Kurt replied diplomatically. "Well, let's hear it. I guess we can decide after."

Blaine nodded. "Sounds fair to me." He turned around on his piano bench to face his piano. Kurt made to sit on the couch, but Blaine saw him and said, "Why don't you just come on the bench next to me? There's plenty of room and the couch is at an awkward angle for watching me play anyway."

"Oh, alright," Kurt said. He went and sat right next to Blaine. Their thighs were flush against each other, and for the first time Kurt caught a whiff of Blaine's scent. He smelled like fabric softener and something slightly musky, perhaps an aftershave or a deodorant. Beneath that Kurt could also detect something slightly fruity – raspberries? The smells tangled together should have been off-putting, but Kurt found them nearly intoxicating.

"Ready?" Blaine asked, studying Kurt's face.

Kurt nodded, blushing at having Blaine's face so close to his.

"Okay," Blaine said. He brought his right hand up to the piano and began to play.

Kurt listened with apprehension as Blaine clinked out the first notes on the piano. He needn't have worried, though, because Blaine was an absolutely superb performer. His playing was slow and deliberate and he was just transformed. Then he began to sing.

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?

Kurt's eyes widened. He had heard Blaine perform before, but his performances with the Warblers had all been high-energy top forty numbers. This was soft and deliberate and vulnerable.

It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

As soon as Blaine finished with the first verse, though, Kurt knew there was going to a problem. Blaine's performance was lovely and entertaining, but...he didn't feel anything. Blaine wasn't emoting, he wasn't feeling anything as he sang, and Kurt could sense it.

Blaine set in on the chorus.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

"Blaine, stop," Kurt said softly before he could start in on the next verse.

Blaine looked surprised at Kurt's interruption. "What?" he asked.

"I just..." Kurt hesitated, not sure how to give constructive advice without sounding overly critical or hurting Blaine's feelings. "It's not...you're very, very talented, and the song sounds very good, but..."

Blaine looked resigned, like he knew what Kurt was getting at. "But it's not very emotional."

"I'm afraid not," Kurt said gently.

Blaine put his elbows down on the piano keys abruptly, making a loud jarring sound that made Kurt flinch. Blaine buried his head in his hands and groaned. "I've been working on this song all week. Our performances are tomorrow. I'm so screwed."

"Hey," Kurt said, putting his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "You are not screwed. We have all evening. We'll figure something out."

"Your optimism is annoying," Blaine said grumpily.

"And your surliness is unproductive. C'mon, get up." Kurt stood up and grabbed Blaine by the arm. He pulled the other boy over to the couch and all but shoved him onto it. "Sit and think of another song to sing. Think about all the things you felt the most recently, and target one. Then we can come up with a song together." He went over to Blaine's guitar stand, grabbed his acoustic guitar and handed it Blaine gingerly. Kurt knew how musicians could be about their instruments.

"And what are you going to do while I'm doing all this thinking?" Blaine asked, a hint of a grin on his face at Kurt's forceful attitude.

"I'm going to order us dinner. Pizza?"

Blaine nodded vigorously. "With extra cheese."

Kurt rolled his eyes but nodded as he walked over to the kitchen area to call and order their dinner and allow Blaine some privacy. He looked over his shoulder as he told the girl on the phone Blaine's address and saw him strumming his guitar absent-mindedly while he stared off into space.

When he hung up the phone, Kurt sent a quick text to Rachel telling her he would be at Blaine's a little longer than he thought and not to wait for him for dinner.

Her reply came almost immediately. Kurt, you had better be careful. Word on the street is that boy is a heartbreaker.

Kurt rolled his eyes. Rachel thought she was so funny. You're hilarious. No really. You should have your own show.

I will. And when I do, I'm so not introducing you to Oprah.

Kurt shook his head and pocketed his phone. He walked the few steps over to the living room area and said, "So, any luck?"

Blaine snapped out of his sober revere and his soft strumming came to an abrupt halt. "Oh, uh...yeah, actually." Blaine looked down somewhat sheepishly. "There is this one song. It...if I choose to play it, I don't...want to talk about why I chose it like we did for the other songs."

Kurt sat down gingerly next to Blaine, this time leaving nearly a two foot gap between them. "Blaine, of course you don't have to tell me," he replied earnestly. "I'll never pressure you to share anything with me that makes you uncomfortable. I just want to help."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine said with a small smile. "Thanks." Kurt nodded, returning his smile. "Okay, well, here goes..."

Blaine angled himself toward Kurt, closed his eyes, and began picking out the beginning notes of the song.

Another shot of whiskey please bartender
Keep it coming till I don't remember at all
How bad it hurts when you're gone

Not even thirty seconds into the song, Kurt knew this was the song Blaine should have picked from the beginning. He could tell Blaine had a deep personal connection with it, though he hadn't shared the reason with Kurt.

Turn the music up a little bit louder
Just gotta get past the midnight hour, uh huh
Maybe tomorrow it won't be this hard

Kurt thought about the other day in the coffee shop, that guy, and what Blaine had said about the situation. Blaine hadn't said as much, but Kurt guessed that Blaine was no stranger to sleeping around and he'd implied that he met that guy at a club of some sort. Now, Blaine's song all but confirmed Kurt's suspicions.

Who am I kidding?
I know what I'm missing

Love, I had my heart set on you
But nothing else hurts like you do
Who knew that love was so cruel
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Blaine hit that high note, and Kurt nearly liquefied. Tears immediately prickled in his eyes. Yes, maybe Kurt was an easy crier, but if Blaine didn't get an A for baring his soul like this, he would personally throw something at Gates' head.

For Blaine to sing with that much emotion, he must have been through some real heartbreak. It never occurred to Kurt that people sometimes threw themselves around not just for pleasure, but because they were afraid of anything deeper.

And I waited and waited so long
For someone who'll never come home
It's my fault to think you'd be true, yeah, yeah
I'm just a fool

Blaine sang the last line with so much wistful bitterness that Kurt knew he had to mean it. Blaine put up a really good front, pretending he was so confident and put together, but through this song Kurt could really see him. See how insecure he was. Kurt couldn't blame Blaine for wanting to choose something safer to play in front of everyone.

I say that I don't care
And walk away whatever
And I tell myself we were bad together, uh huh
But that's just me trying to move on without you

But who am I kidding?
I know what I'm missing

As Blaine repeated the chorus, Kurt couldn't help but wonder who it was that Blaine was trying to move on from. Someone who had completely wrecked him, obviously. A boyfriend from high school, probably.

He knew Blaine had felt pity – or at the very least, sympathy – for Kurt during his tale from his high school days, but Kurt couldn't help but wonder if love was worth this level of pain. Maybe loneliness was better than this.

I'm just a fool

For holding onto something that's
Never ever gonna come back
I can't accept that it's lost

I should have let it go
Held my tongue
Kept my big mouth shut
'Cause now everything is just wrong
I'm thrown

Blaine angrily sang this part, and Kurt thought he might die from all the twists and turns his emotions where taking. Where before Blaine hadn't been nearly emotional enough, now it was almost too much. Kurt's heart couldn't keep up.

I'm just a fool
A fool for you
I'm just a fool

Blaine repeated the chorus one last time and then softly brought the song to a close. He slowly opened his eyes, which Kurt, lost in the music, hadn't even realized Blaine had been clenching shut throughout the entire song. When he looked at Kurt, his eyes widened almost comically at the tear tracks running down the boy's face. Blaine's face erupted in more than a slight shade of pink.

Kurt swiped at the tears on his cheeks and laughed shakily. "Uh, yeah..." he said. "That was much better."

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine said sincerely.

"You're welcome," Kurt answered with a smile. "I-do you need to practice it again? You seemed to have all the chords and timing and notes and everything down..."

Blaine thought for a second. "Well, actually, I can also play it on the piano. Do you think it would be better on piano or guitar?"

"Why don't you play it for me on the piano, and then we can decide?"

"Sounds good," Blaine replied with a smile.

The boys both practiced their songs multiple times each that evening. Blaine ultimately decided to go with the piano version of his song as it fit the sound and emotionality better.

They ate pizza and just talked about their favorite musicals and singers. Kurt told Blaine some more about his job and Blaine listened to another guy truly talk for the first time in a very long time.

They developed a true comradery, forged from the mutual trust the boys had inexplicably given to each other with their performances.

The next day during class, both boys' performances were a hit. They received As and commendations from Gates. He told Blaine in particular that if he kept up that level of emotion in his songs, there wouldn't be much for him to teach the younger man. Kurt, instead of being jealous, felt extremely proud of Blaine and of himself for helping. Blaine shot him a grateful smile, and that was all the praise Kurt needed.