Chapter 8

Blaine drew back, thick eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?”

Kurt stared past him at the frozen grass, up at the sky, anywhere but the hazel-green eyes peering imploringly through the darkness at his face. “We just can’t.”

Blaine sighed impatiently. “That’s not a reason.”

“We can’t, Blaine.”

“Kurt. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Kurt met his eyes.

Blaine took a deep breath, then reached for his hand. Kurt drew back automatically, then immediately felt guilty when he saw the crease return to Blaine’s forehead, but it was too late to give his hand back to the other boy.

“Look, Kurt,” Blaine said quietly, so that Kurt had to strain to hear what he was saying. “I was afraid you’d say that. Terrified, really. But I can’t exactly say I’m surprised, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Just, I need a reason. That’s all. Give me one good reason why we can’t do this and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

“I have a boyfriend.” The words fell out of Kurt’s mouth before he had a chance to stop himself. He immediately regretted it, even more so when he saw Blaine tense up, a puff of icy breath exhaling sharply from his mouth. It was clear that, whatever excuse he had been anticipating, it hadn’t been that.

“What? Who?”

“My roommate, Jake,” Kurt heard himself say, then immediately wondered what was wrong with him.

“The one whose birthday is Friday?”

He remembered.

“Yeah,” Kurt muttered. His mouth was dry, his palms were sweaty, and he was shaking slightly, not from the cold. He wanted to kick himself. Who the hell made up stories like that, anyways? And now it was too late to turn back, to tell Blaine that it was all a lie and he was just scared but he wanted to try being friends at least. Now Blaine would want absolutely nothing to do with him. Now Blaine thought Kurt was just using him, that he was cheating on his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. It wasn’t a lie. He just wasn’t sorry for the reasons Blaine thought he was.

“Well. I-we- we can just forget this ever happened, then,” Blaine suggested faintly. His face was scrunched up as if he was trying not to scream, or cry, or hit something. Probably all of the above, and more.

“That’s probably for the best,” Kurt agreed. It was definitely better to stop seeing each other before Kurt made up an entire other life and hurt Blaine even more than he already had. He wanted to take it all back, but he knew that was no longer an option. He wanted to hug Blaine, to kiss Blaine, to hold hands with Blaine. He wanted to be friends with Blaine, and so much more, because he would never in a million years get over Blaine. But that didn’t mean Blaine had to be miserable. He would get over Kurt soon enough, and it was better that way. Kurt had gotten his closure, and had messed with Blaine in the process. It wasn’t worth it, hurting Blaine like this.

So he had to get out of here, before he said anything else he regretted.

“I should go,” he mumbled, turning on his heel and sprinting away through the park, slipping and sliding on icy patches until he reached the sidewalk. And then he was running faster and faster, so fast he could almost leave this whole mess behind him in the snow.

Almost.

***

Candi was sitting cross-legged on Kurt’s bed when he got back to NYADA. She looked surprisingly sober for someone who had presumably spent the last several hours drinking illegally at a bar.

“Well, well, well,” her voice rang loudly through the silent dorm room. It was empty besides her, Kurt noticed- Jake was nowhere to be found. He certainly had some explaining to do when his roommate got back, he realized with a jolt.

“Hey, Candi,” Kurt said wearily. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to talk to anyone after the events of the night.

“Hey, sneaky whore.”

Kurt crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

Candi pulled out a white iPhone from her huge bag and waved it around in front of Kurt’s face. Suddenly Kurt realized- Candi had a black Droid with a pink case, not a white iPhone.

“Give me that!” he shouted, panicking as he made a grab for the phone. She pulled her hand back, shoving him halfheartedly back so that he bumped into Jake’s bed.

“Too late, dipshit. I already know everything.”

Crap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kurt lied. Maybe she didn’t know as much as she thought she did.

Candi held up the screen, tilting it so that she could read whatever was on it better. “So who’s BA? And why is there a phone number for TicketMaster under ‘recent calls?’ More importantly, why is the internet open to the page for ‘How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying’ on your laptop?”

Kurt had no idea what to say. She really did know everything. Even his laptop password, apparently.

“What’s going on, Kurt?” she asked evenly. “Are you guys back together?”

“No,” Kurt shook his head firmly. “We went out. As friends. To talk about… stuff. The past. And then I wanted to surprise him, so I bought tickets to his show,” he admitted. It sounded contrived, even to him.

Candi raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Sounds real friendly.”

“It was. I mean, but it wasn’t anything more than that,” he clarified.

“Right,” Candi shrugged. “So you spent the past three-and-a-half hours doing what, exactly?”

Shit. Kurt glanced at the clock, which read that it was almost 2:30 AM. “We went for a walk. In central park. Just to talk.”

Candi swatted him on the arm. “Kurt, nobody walks through Central Park with their ex at midnight to do anything related to talking. Maybe to get mugged, sure… but not to talk,” she pointed out. “How stupid do you think I am? I practically invented hooking up in Central Park at midnight!”

“We didn’t hook up,” Kurt protested feebly.

“Bullshit.”

“We didn’t!”

“Well you didn’t just TALK, that’s for sure! What’d you do, hold hands? Make out while rolling around in the snow?”

Kurt’s  face flushed vivid red.

“Aha!” Candi jumped off the bed pointing an accusatory finger at Kurt. “You did do something! Ohmygosh tell me EVERYTHING!!!!!!!”

Kurt swore under his breath.

“Come on, Kurt! Details!”

“Fine. We kissed,” he admitted. “Standing up,” he added before she could go insane with the idea. Not that this was any better. He was screwed no matter what at this point. The whole school would probably know everything by this time tomorrow.

“Was it a kiss or a makeout?” she demanded.

“Makeout, I guess,” he allowed. He was fairly certain his face couldn’t get any redder.

“I mean, it wasn’t for very long, and we’re not getting back together or anything,” he informed Candi. “It was seriously not a big deal. Just old stuff resurfacing.” Kurt sank down onto the bed and unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off onto the bed.

Whack.

“OW!” Kurt rubbed his arm where Candi had punched him. “What was that for?”

“You liar!”

“Huh?” Kurt looked at her, confused, and then noticed where her gaze was focused. He glanced down and his jaw dropped as he realized that his shirt was half-unbuttoned and distinctly wrinkled, pulled halfway out of his pants.

Oops.

“KURT HUMMEL, YOU DIRTY LIAR!”

Kurt frowned down at his shirt (which he definitely did not remember being undone. At all. He had absolutely no recollection of Blaine’s icy fingers fumbling with the buttons as his breath ghosted over Kurt’s cheeks, lips, neck. None. Whatsoever). He had no clue what to say to fix this situation.

“Kurt! You full-on MADE OUT. Is he like your boyfriend now? Just a hook-up buddy? What. Is. Going. On?”

“Nothing is going on,” he answered, quickly doing up the buttons. “We’re not together. I don’t even know if we’re friends any more, for that matter.”

Candi’s face fell. “Why the hell not?” she demanded.

“I… er… I kinda told him that I already had a boyfriend,” Kurt whispered quickly, wincing in anticipation of his friend’s response. “Jake.”

Candi slapped his arm again. Hard.

“Ow!”

“KURT HUMMEL, WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” she shouted, loud enough to wake half the building.

“Shh! Some people are actually sleeping, Candi,” he reminded her hastily.

“I don’t care! What kind of person gets a second chance with their perfect ex-boyfriend and fucks it up by saying that they’re already dating someone?” she questioned sharply, but did take her volume down a notch, thankfully. Kurt didn’t need the entire floor knowing about what had happened- Candi knowing was bad enough. She was as good as ten people, considering she would never let him hear the end of this as it was. He would rather get one night of actual sleep before the questions started pouring in from all sides.

“I couldn’t do it,” he shrugged, sitting back on the bed and wishing he could curl up in a ball and let the rest of the world disappear. “I just couldn’t. It was too much. I wanted to be with him. I still do. But I’m too scared, too big a coward, and now I’ve ruined everything and that’s that and I just want to be alone for a while, if it’s all the same to you.”

Candi nodded and stood up, heading for the door. Kurt watched her pull it open, then pause and turn around to face him again.

“You’re an idiot,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

“I know,” he agreed miserably. “I wish I could pretend this day never happened. But I can’t even do that.”

***

Blaine threw himself back into his work. His director informed him that he had never known someone so new to the Broadway scene to be so passionate about everything, coming two or three hours early to shows, even sometimes helping the crew set up anything that needed to be set up.

Blaine accepted the praise quietly. Nobody needed to know that he had no really good friends in New York City yet, and with no other form of distraction, he turned to the theatre for every minute of his free time that he possibly could.

Even that couldn’t make him forget Kurt.

***

“Kurt? Wanna go to the bar with me and Candi?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Kurt.”

“No.”

Jake shoved him lightly on the shoulder. “Kurt, you can’t just sit in your room all day between classes. You need to socialize!”

“No thanks, dad.”

“Oh, come on! You kind of owe me, anyways. I mean, you used me as your fake boyfriend without permission… don’t you think you should do my bidding for a day or something in exchange?” he teased.

Kurt spun around in his desk chair to look at Jake sharply.

“Candi told me,” he offered.

“Oh,” Kurt groaned. “Should’ve known.” The rest of the floor, surprisingly enough, seemed to know nothing of the events of that night. For which he was incredibly grateful. It was bad enough trying to convince himself that it hadn’t happened.

“Please, Kurt? You don’t have to drink or anything, just, let’s go out!”

“I want to be alone.”

“Alright, fine. But we’ll be just a few blocks away if you change your mind. My phone is on.”

“Whatever.”

***

On Thursday, Blaine was just getting dressed after his morning shower when he heard a knock at the door. Wondering who could possibly be visiting him at 9:30 AM in the middle of the week, Blaine rushed to the door, still clutching a towel to his bare legs. He still couldn’t help hoping that it would be-

“Damn.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows at the greeting a petite blonde with pretty ice blue eyes and a vaguely familiar face offered him. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. It’s just that your abs are even better than Hummel’s. What is it with gay guys having perfect bodies when there’s absolutely no chance I could ever-”

“You’re Kurt’s friend,” Blaine interrupted, suddenly realizing where he knew her from. “You were with Kurt at the theatre, the first time he saw my show.”

“Correct. And now I’m here.”

Blaine ran a hand through his dripping curls, then crossed his arms self-consciously as her piercing gaze ran over his entire body. “Would you like to come in?” he asked, to break the awkward silence.

“Sure would,” she nodded encouragingly, as though she was talking to a particularly dim-witted first grader.

Blaine stood aside and allowed the girl to step over the threshold in her three-inch heels. She made a beeline for the couch and Blaine followed suit, wondering how it was possible for a complete stranger to make him feel so uncomfortable in his own apartment.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude,” he started awkwardly as she helped herself to a pretzel M&M from the bowl on the coffee table. “But, who exactly are you? And what are you doing here?”

“Candi Hartford,” she offered a hand, which Blaine shook. “I’m here about my boy Hummel.”

Her boy Hummel…

“Wait. Are you his boyfriend?” Blaine suddenly wondered. He hadn’t thought- but then again, you could never tell in NYC…

Candi glanced up at his sincere expression and promptly burst out laughing. “Shit, do I look like a man to you?” she asked amusedly.

Blaine’s face grew warm with embarrassment. “No, sorry. I just, I didn’t want to offend you if you were- or- I mean… How did you find me?”

“The internet is a magical place, Captain,” she saluted, flashing a piece of paper at him. On it was a photo of him in an eyepatch, which he knew must have been from junior year. How she had gotten ahold of the photo was a mystery to him. But at the moment he was more concerned with the first part of her response.

“Is my address that easy to find?” he wondered, twisting a curl around his finger anxiously. It was a habit he had picked up when he had started going easy on the gel when he had shows.

“Only when you have a name, general location, and phone number to go by,” she said in what Blaine figured was supposed to be a reassuring tone.

“Phone number?”

“I stole Kurt’s phone,” she said simply.

Blaine’s stomach knotted at the knowledge that Kurt had his phone number still and hadn’t bothered calling. They really were over. They had a second chance, and he had completely overstepped his bounds and blown everything.

“How is he?” Blaine asked. Probably fine, he thought. Probably happy with his boyfriend, Blaine’s name a distant memory just days after their kiss.

“He’s fine,” she shrugged, helping herself to another pretzel M&M.

“And are he and his boyfriend doing well?” he pressed. Blaine wasn’t sure why he was asking. He seemed to get some sort of grim satisfaction from his own misery, clearly.

Candi shot him a look that could only be described as one of condescending pity. “Did you really believe that B.S. he came up with?”

“Huh?” Blaine frowned. It almost sounded as if… but no, that couldn’t be what she meant. Absolutely not. He would not get his hopes up again.

“Oh geez, Blaine. He made that up, you idiot! Of course he doesn’t have a boyfriend!”

Blaine’s jaw fell open slightly and his heart began to race. Kurt didn’t have a boyfriend. Kurt didn’t have a boyfriend.

But he still lied to you, he reminded himself. He’s not interested. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can just leave him alone and let the poor boy move on with his life. He’s over you.

“Why’d he do it?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Candi shrugged. “No clue. Ask him yourself.”

“I can’t,” Blaine protested. “I don’t have any way to contact him and he clearly doesn’t want to see me in person. Or call me, for that matter.”

She grinned. “Then this is your lucky day! Kurt’s roommate is having a birthday party and if you show up he has to acknowledge you!”

“I’m not invited,” he pointed out.

“I’m inviting you! If you ambush him at school again he won’t answer the door,” she continued, ignoring the shock registering on Blaine’s face. Did this girl know everything? “But if you show up at his roommate’s party, he’ll be stuck there. It’s perfect!”

Blaine shook his head. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. Was cornering Kurt the only way they would ever have another conversation? Was stalking him at a private party the only way he would see his face again?

“I want Kurt to agree to see me of his own accord, not because I followed him somewhere and forced him to acknowledge me,” Blaine said.

“But-”

“No,” he repeated, more forcefully this time. “Thanks for the offer, and it was nice meeting you, but no thanks. It’s not a good idea.”

“Fine,” Candi stood abruptly and headed for the door, looking rather put-out. “You can keep this,” she added, thrusting the photo at him and slamming the door behind her.

***

Blaine didn’t sleep well that night. Well, really, he didn’t sleep at all. Kurt’s voiced bounced around in his head, claiming to have a boyfriend, then sighing at Blaine’s touch, squealing as they threw snowballs at one another, then back to claiming he had a boyfriend, obviously desperate for any excuse not to see Blaine ever again.

Finally, he gave up on sleep and got out of bed, going to the kitchen for a glass of water. He sat with it on the couch, shivering- whether from the cold apartment and his lack of shirt, or from something else entirely, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he was catching the flu or something.

Or maybe you just really miss Kurt.

No. It had to be the flu.

He shifted slightly on the couch, then realized that he was sitting on something sharp. He glanced down and saw that it was the piece of paper Candi had thrown at him before she left, the corner of which had been poking him through the thin material of his pajama pants. He must have put it on the couch earlier, he realized. Everything after her visit was a bit of a blur. He hadn’t exactly been concentrating on anything but Kurt and theatre for the past week as it was.

Blaine squinted in the dim light at the photo. It looked familiar. His face was grinning, good eye shining happily (the other was covered with a black eyepatch). And there, in the corner, he could just make out someone’s shoulder.

Damn.

Kurt.

His ex-boyfriend’s high-pitched, musical laugh rang through his mind and he remembered how the other boy only ever seemed to laugh in his presence, how Kurt had brought his old pirate costume over that day and paraded around the room in it to cheer Blaine up after finding out he would need surgery to fix his eye. How they had cuddled in bed, then kissed, then started to go much farther than that before Blaine’s dad got home, effectively staunching any possibilities. But Kurt hadn’t been intimidated. He had simply settled for a much more PG form of affection.

Because he was perfect.

He was perfect for Blaine and he was just plain perfect in every sense of the word. And now Blaine could never have him, and his last real chance at redemption had stormed out of the apartment hours ago and that was that.

Blaine threw the photo aside, angry tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t sure who he was more angry at- Kurt, for not being willing to give this a try, or himself, for refusing to make Kurt talk to him, for taking it too far as usual and ruining everything. It was like that night at Scandals. And the day he came back from England. Only it was worse this time, because there was no making up after this, no second chance or third chance or any chance at all.

The photo blurred black through his tear-ridden eyes. He hated everyone, everything, and most of all, he hated himself more than he could ever imagine. He would never find anyone like Kurt in a million years, and he had been given a second chance he didn’t deserve and he had destroyed it and he would never forgive himself for-

Black?

Why was the photo blurring black? There was very little black, mostly bright colors from their clothes and brown from their hair.

Blaine bent over and scooped the photo off the ground again, then realized that he was looking at the back. On it, in bubbly sharpie-d handwriting, was an address and a time.

***

By 5:30 PM the next day, Blaine was dressed and pacing frantically, not sure if he wanted to be prompt so he could see Kurt immediately, or late so that he could ensure plenty of people surrounded them. He found himself wishing he had Candi’s number to text her and make sure she was there, but he hadn’t thought to ask and he supposed she was getting ready now, not checking Facebook, so there was no point in looking her up.

At 5:45, he decided that he’d better start walking so that he’d be sure to make it by 6:15, only a few minutes late. He made it to the bar five minutes later than anticipated, and paused outside the door. Loud noises erupted from inside and music pounded in his ears.

Did he really want to do this?

Yes, he thought immediately. He had to try, had to make some effort to stay friends with Kurt at the very least.

But Kurt doesn’t want to see you, he reminded himself. He fabricated a boyfriend to avoid ever talking to you again.

The door slid open and a burst of laughter floated toward Blaine’s ears. High-pitched, light, bubbly… he would know that laugh anywhere.

His feet propelled him forward until he was in the warm, sweaty bar, which smelled like beer and too many people pressed into too small a space.

He stopped by one of the tables near the front, scanning the surrounding area for a familiar face. He spotted Candi first, her platinum hair gleaming in the dim light. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him. Blaine raised one eyebrow and shot her a meaningful glance, and she nodded slightly to the left, tossed her hair, and resumed conversation with the admittedly cute boy she was talking too.

Not that anyone could compare to the sight that met Blaine’s eyes at that moment.

He was wearing a white shirt and dark jeans, smiling a smile that seemed too wide, too fake, to be genuine, and sipping something from a martini glass as he chatted with a boy who had light brown hair. Blaine was surprised to see Kurt with alcohol- he didn’t even own a fake ID back in high school (unless you counted the crappy one Sebastian had gotten him, which Blaine didn’t), let alone drink almost at all. But times changed, Blaine supposed. He certainly had a fake ID now…

Just then, Kurt threw his head back, giggling. Perhaps he wasn’t completely sober? He was something of a lightweight, Blaine supposed.

He lingered by the table for a few minutes, then slowly made his way to Kurt, edging closer and closer as if compelled by some magnetic force. When he was about five feet away, he froze once more. This was his last chance to turn back, to leave Kurt alone and let them both get on with their lives.

He should go. This was a stupid, ridiculous idea.

“Blaine?”

Kurt’s voice rang across the bar as the other boy’s bright, gorgeous eyes landed on him. He looked surprised, to say the least. And not entirely pleased, either. Blaine raised a hand awkwardly.

“Hey.”

“I- what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk. Please.”

Kurt shook his head quickly. “No, we don’t. Especially not here.”

“Then somewhere else.”

Kurt spun around and headed for the bathroom. Blaine followed quickly, hoping that was what Kurt wanted, and feeling more and more creepy by the second for having done any of this. It was clearly a huge mistake.

“What the heck are you doing here? How did you even find me, that’s so creepy I can’t even begin to-”

“Your friend Candi gave me the address.”

“I’m going to murder her.”

“Please, just give me a chance. I’ll leave after we talk, I promise. This is weird. I just had to ask…” Blaine paused. Did he really want to say this?

“Ask what?”

“Why can’t we be friends?”

“We kissed,” Kurt said flatly. “I have a boyfriend. It’s his birthday and you’re ambushing me at his party. Do we really have to go over this again?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend,” Blaine argued.

“I do, too!”

“You made him up. Candi told me, and she seems to know everything around here so I honestly believe her. He’s fake, you made him up, or at least he’s not really your boyfriend and you and I both know it.”

“He’s real!”

“You invented him!”

“Blaine, stop. This is too much. I can’t!”

“You can! I told you I’d leave you alone if you could just give me one good reason why we can’t be friends, at least! That’s all I’m asking, Kurt! One reason!”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Say my name. Stop it, now. Don’t say my name, because I’m trying to make this better for both of us and break it off before we do something we regret all over again and when you say my name like that it just destroys my resolve and we both know I’m the only one thinking clearly right now about this whole thing, so just don’t.”

“That’s still not a reason,” Blaine crossed his arms stubbornly and shot Kurt a glare.

Kurt bit his lip, remaining silent. His face was blotchy and he looked panicked, but he was still perfect.

“You know what? There is no reason. I just can’t, okay? You broke my heart once, isn’t that enough for you?”

“You broke my heart too! You know that, don’t even pretend like you don’t! I loved you, and you broke my heart just as much as I broke yours!” Blaine was shouting again, and he kept flashing back to that day, that horrible day when everything fell to pieces. He always ended up shouting when he got angry, until he made Kurt cry and hated himself and he knew where it was going but he just couldn’t stop. “We were PERFECT together, and we still are, and you are just TOO DAMN SCARED TO GIVE ME A SECOND CHANCE! So I’m just going to leave now,” Blaine continued, his voice now deadly quiet. “You got your wish. Goodbye. Forever.”

Blaine turned to go, wrenching the bathroom door open just as something icy cold hit him on the back.

“What the-?”

He turned back around and saw Kurt, who was still holding his now-empty martini glass, eyes wide with shock as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done, either.

“Did you just throw a drink at me?”

“Yes?” It sounded like a question, as though Kurt was really certain it had happened, either. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, I did. And you know what? You deserved it, Blaine Anderson. You deserved it, for being an absolute asshole to me.”

Blaine considered this. “Yeah.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I did deserve that, and I was an asshole. And a stalker, too. This was stupid. I told myself it was stupid a billion times. But then I heard you laughing and I just couldn’t help myself and then you saw me and everything got out of hand. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. I’m sorry.

“I never thought you’d be the one throwing frozen drinks, though, so that’s new,” he added, face breaking into a slight grin in spite of himself.

Kurt stared, looking utterly bewildered, but then his mouth cracked into a smile too, a real one, not that fake look he plastered on when he talked to other people but a real grin, albeit a small and uncertain one.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly. “That was really stupid. And immature. I don’t know why I did that.”

“No, I deserved it. It kind of put things in perspective. I was acting like a high school idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Your shirt’s all wet,” Kurt noted, pursing his lips in disapproval. Kurt hated stains, Blaine recalled.

“Yeah, some guy just threw a drink on me. I should probably go home and change.”

“Can I come too?”

The words left his mouth quickly, as though he was afraid to utter them but equally afraid not to. Blaine raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“It’s customary to buy me dinner before inviting yourself to my house, Hummel,” Blaine teased.

“Well, I bought you a nice drink, even if it did end up on your back,” Kurt shot back, smirking at Blaine’s faux-affronted look.

“You bought that for yourself! It’s not my fault you wanted to share!”

“True enough. Now come on, I want to see where the great Broadway star Blaine Anderson is living these days!”

***

“Well, this is it!” Blaine pushed open the door of apartment 311B, holding the door open for Kurt, who hurried eagerly inside.

“It’s not that great, I know,” Blaine added from behind him. “But it’s all I can afford. I mean, they pay pretty well but it has to last until I get another job after this and it’s pretty expensive to live in the city so this is what I have.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kurt breathed, turning to look at the room better. It was small, true, but still very, well, elegant, with the white carpet and the very light peach walls and the crystal bowl full of M&Ms on the light brown coffee table. “It’s very you.”

“Is that a good thing?” Blaine probed, chuckling nervously.

“Definitely,” Kurt smiled. “Aren’t you freezing? It’s cold in here and your shirt’s soaking wet all down the back!”

“A little,” Blaine admitted. “I’ll just… go change. And then we can… talk?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kurt forced himself to smile, ignoring his pounding heart. They didn’t need another fight like the one that had lead to him throwing his drink.

Not that it ended up so badly…

“You can sit, if you want. I mean, make yourself comfortable,” Blaine offered awkwardly.

Kurt nodded quickly. This was so bizarre. They needed something to break the ice. Acting like two little kids trying to make friends at a new school was not going to cut it. “On second thought,” he called at Blaine’s retreating figure, “can I choose your new shirt? We can’t have you in another travesty like that one.”

Blaine pouted, glancing down at the fabric covering his arms. “I like this shirt!” he argued. “It’s nice!”

“If by ‘nice’ you mean, ‘belongs on the back of the sixty-year-old homeless man who sleeps by the school every day,’ then sure, it’s really ‘nice,’” Kurt retorted. “If I had to ruin one of your shirts I’m glad it was that one. And a bowtie, too? Have you really not outgrown those?”

“Bowties are cool!” Blaine said, glancing down at his own, which was dark blue.

“Yeah, for a first grader, maybe.”

“That’s me. Blaine Anderson, the world’s first sixty-year-old first grader,” he proclaimed.

“You’re forgetting Benjamin Button,” Kurt reminded him, smiling freely now that the initial awkwardness had faded away.

“Fine, you can pick my clothes. But if you throw another drink on my shirt, you’re paying for the dry-cleaning bill, College Boy!”

“Deal,” Kurt said, following him into his bedroom, which had dark blue walls and more white carpeting. “You know, a lighter color of paint would make this room seem much larger,” Kurt offered.

“I like it like this,” Blaine replied, pulling off the stained shirt and dropping it on the floor. “It’s cozy.”

Kurt quickly stooped over and retrieved the shirt, folding it carefully and placing it on the edge of the bed (he left the bowtie where it was), then turned back to face Blaine, who was standing fully shirtless, bulging arms crossed over his chest. Kurt felt his cheeks redden at the sight.

“Well?”

“Huh?” Kurt asked, feeling slightly dazed. How was Blaine still so attractive? Did he just grow those freaking abs on a tree and slap them on? Kurt had never even seen him go to a gym before, except that one time when Finn pissed him off.

“Aren’t you gonna pick my shirt for me?”

“Oh, right. That. I mean, yeah, of course I am,” Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine’s chest and gave his head a little shake to clear it. “Um, this one would look nice with your skin tone,” he said, randomly choosing a deep green tee shirt. “And it’ll bring out your eyes.”

He thrust the shirt quickly at Blaine, anxious for him to cover up before Kurt’s resolve crumbled completely.

“Thanks,” Blaine took the shirt, their hands brushing slightly. Kurt froze, watching Blaine’s arm muscles tense at the contact.

“Sorry.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kurt mumbled quickly as Blaine thankfully yanked the top over his head. Not that it was much better with his shirt on. Kurt had chosen too well- he looked heart-wrenchingly gorgeous in it. The color made his eyes shine and the short sleeves did nothing to cover his arms.

“So, do you want anything to eat?” Blaine asked quickly, clearly looking for a distraction as well.

“No thanks.”

“Drink?”

“I’m good.” Kurt sighed, bracing himself. “Look, can we just get this talk over with? I want to stop feeling awkward around you and just by… me. And the only way that can happen is if we both just talk.”

“Fair enough,” Blaine said, sitting down on his bed to pull off his shoes. “So, are we friends now?”

“I guess so,” Kurt shrugged. This was going nowhere. “I mean, I want to be friends, I really do,” he added, feeling Blaine deserved more of an explanation than that after essentially being slushied in the bathroom of a bar by his ex-boyfriend. “But with everything that’s happened between us, it’s hard. You know?”

“Yeah,” Blaine nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I know. But I miss you, Kurt. A lot. We can just be friends, that’s fine, but I really don’t think I can stand never seeing you. I mean, I want to go further. But I understand if you don’t. I just have to have you in my life in some way, even if friendship is the best I’ll get.

“I know that’s not really fair of me, putting that much pressure on you,” he added, as Kurt opened his mouth to respond. “But that’s how I feel. We agreed to talk it out, and that’s how I feel about everything we’ve been through and where we’re going. Your turn.”

“I agree,” Kurt admitted. “Ignoring each other isn’t gonna work. We’ve been through too much together to do that. But I can’t really see us going farther than friendship. There are too many memories, good and bad, and it’s just too much for me to handle. But we can be friends, sure. It doesn’t really make sense to not be friends, I guess. We’re both miserable that way.”

“So friends it is,” Blaine said, offering Kurt a warm smile. “Good. I missed you, Kurt.”

“I missed you too, Blaine.”

***

Blaine pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together. “Now that we’ve figured everything out, seriously, can I make you something to eat? You missed the food at Jake’s party because of me.”

“I missed the food at Jake’s party because I felt the need to throw a martini at you,” Kurt amended, but then nodded. “But sure, you can make me something to eat, I guess.”

“What would you like?”

“Surprise me,” Kurt said promptly. “I’m in college now, remember? I’ll eat literally anything as long as it’s fewer carbs than the crap they serve in the student union.”

“Alright, tell you what- I’ll go make dinner and you can pick something to watch on TV, deal?”

“Just like old times, but reversed,” Kurt pointed out. “I used to be the one making dinner.”

“Times change,” Blaine winked.

***

“That was delicious,” Kurt declared, getting up and putting his dish in the sink. “How did you learn to make Kraft Macaroni and Cheese taste so much better than the original?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret recipe anymore,” Blaine said mysteriously.

“Oh, come on! Tell me!”

“What are we watching tonight?” Blaine changed the subject quickly.

Kurt pouted.

“RENT.”

“Good choice,” he nodded approvingly.

Kurt sat down on the couch in the living room, which was soft black leather, and Blaine followed suit, being sure to keep several inches of space between them so it wouldn’t be awkward. Then Kurt leaned over, grabbed the remote, and hit play.

***

It started, innocently enough, with Blaine offering to make popcorn. Popcorn was one of those unhealthy foods Kurt had always allowed himself to indulge in. Blaine had made two bowls to avoid any awkward contact, and everything had been fine until about the time Collins started singing “Santa Fe.”

That was when Kurt ran out of popcorn and Blaine, half-focused on the movie, automatically offered his own bowl. Kurt stuck his hand in and pulled out some popcorn, then Blaine followed suit.

And then they both stuck their hands in at the same time.

Their pinky fingers brushed together and both boys froze, the movie suddenly the last thing on their minds. Blaine felt Kurt’s finger wrap around his, and quickly made to pull back, but then he realized that Kurt didn’t actually mind the contact, so he reached over and tentatively grabbed Kurt’s hand.

What are you doing, Blaine? You promised you wouldn’t do this.

But Kurt wasn’t protesting, Blaine noted. In fact, he was sliding over on the couch closer to Blaine, so that their thighs were just barely brushing against each other, making Blaine’s stomach knot painfully.

“Kurt… we can’t-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Don’t say my name, it’s not gonna end well if you say my name like- like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me so badly and you can’t stand to just be friends and you want to lay down on top of me and kiss me until I’m blue in the face. Don’t say my name like that.”

“Kurt…” Blaine couldn’t help himself. Saying Kurt’s name was the only way he could maintain self-control of any kind. It was like a release, sort of. “Kurt, I think you should-”

Blaine didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Kurt’s lips were covering his, tongue forcing itself into his mouth, and they were kissing passionately on the couch with Kurt half on top of Blaine, both making little noises of longing and Kurt’s hand tightening in Blaine’s gelled hair and Blaine’s hand grabbing fistfuls of Kurt’s shirt, which he yanked off and tossed onto the floor, and Kurt didn’t even stop to fold it, just pulled himself completely on top of Blaine and started kissing his neck, his collarbone, back to his mouth, anywhere he could get ahold of. And Blaine ran his hands all over Kurt’s smooth, cold back, locking them around his neck and nuzzling his chest and breathing in his hair and taking in everything he could about the gorgeous boy in front of him. And that was when Blaine knew that there was no stopping what would happen next.

***

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ring r-

“Hello?”

Kurt sat up. Blaine was holding his cell phone to his ear, mumbling sleepily into it.

“Blaine? Who is it?”

“Sorry. Hold on a sec,” Blaine whispered in Kurt’s ear.

Kurt took in the situation as Blaine talked.

Shit.

They were both lying in Blaine’s bed, thankfully not naked, but about as close as anyone could get. Both boys were in their underwear, shirtless and curled up together. Last night had been a bit of a blur, but flashes of it spun around in Kurt’s shell-shocked mind.

Blaine kissing him on the couch until they both rolled over onto the floor.

Him pulling Blaine into the bedroom, climbing on top of him in bed.

Blaine pointing out that they would both regret this in the morning. At which point Kurt agreed and they both cuddled instead, trying to ignore the arousal raging through their bodies, until they eventually fell asleep.

Well, at least it hadn’t gone farther than that… although it had been too close for comfort.

“I’ll be right there, of course. Don’t worry about it. See you soon.”

Blaine sat up a little.

“Who was that?” Kurt wondered.

“Um, it was my- my ex. Charlie. Stuck at an airport.”

“Oh?” Kurt sat up all the way, unsure of what to make of “Charlie.”

“Yeah. I, um, need to go to the airport and get Charlie. Place to stay and all that. Long story.”

“Right.”

“Hey, you okay?” Something in Kurt’s tone must have alerted Blaine to the fact that he wasn’t buying this BS excuse.

“So you just happen to have to see ‘Charlie’ the day after we almost have… sex?” Kurt was more than a little annoyed. “How stupid do you think I am, Blaine?”

“No! No, it’s not like that!”

“Then how is it? Because that’s sure what it sounds like to me!”

“No, I swear! It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Charlie doesn’t. I need to be at the airport now. Why don’t you come with me?” Blaine suggested. “I don’t even know the full story. Charlie can tell you, that’ll be much better.”

Kurt considered this. He could hardly leave Blaine now, after what had happened last night, anyways. They had to talk about this, figure it out. They couldn’t keep doing… whatever this was… every time they made up and tried to be friends.

“Fine.”

***

“Blaine!” Kurt heard a high-pitched voice squeal across the airport, and then a tanned figure with a ponytail ran into Blaine’s arms, nearly knocking him over. “I’m so glad to see you. I knew you’d be here for me!”

“Hey, Charlie. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” the person mumbled into Blaine’s arms.

“Charlie, this is Kurt, my… friend,” Blaine finished lamely.

Charlie pulled out of Blaine’s arms to eye Kurt. “Nice to meet you.”

Kurt nodded numbly, automatically offering a hand to shake but not hearing the words leaving his own mouth. “You too.”

“You okay?” Blaine wondered. “You look a little funny.”

“Fine,” Kurt mumbled dazedly.

But he was far from fine. “Confused” would be a more appropriate term to describe how he felt. Or maybe “shocked.”

Because the Charlie that was standing in front of him, Blaine’s ex, wearing a hot pink t-shirt and black skinny jeans and carrying a huge designer luggage case…

Was a girl.

***