He knew he was going to die any second now.

There was something soft and malleable pressed around his nose and mouth. A cloth maybe? But why would there be a cloth over his face?

He scrambled to fight back against whatever was obscuring his vision and was just about to scream when whatever was suffocating him moved. A second later he could see again and in a flash he was on the other side of the couch, his heart pounding.

Kurt's eyes roved around the room frantically and finally settled on the other arm of the couch. There sat a cat, a rather large cat with a ton of fur. It was a rich golden color with unnervingly copper colored eyes. It licked its lips at him and its ears were pressed flat against its head in what could only be described as pure and unadulterated annoyance.

The next alarming thing that Kurt noticed was that there was a cat sitting on the arm of an unfamiliar couch, staring at him.

He stared at the leather couch and the blanket wrapped around him which was scratchy wool but incredibly warm. After the shock of the killer cat Kurt took in his surroundings which obviously weren't his apartment. He'd never put a brown leather couch in such a white room.

Kurt looked back at the cat who was still staring at him, unblinking. He moved off the couch as quietly as he could and the cat's eyes followed him.

The final unnerving thing was someone, another man, was singing somewhere in the building and his body immediately recognized the voice. A thrill shot through his spine and he froze where he stood. "-Grace Kelly, but my looks were too sad. So I tried a little Freddy, mmmh, I've gone identity mad-"

Kurt felt an involuntary flush hit his body at the growl that Blaine's voice produced in the middle of whatever it was he was singing. Immediately Kurt went into stealth mode and he crouched against the wall closest to him and started to move around the room towards the sound of Blaine's voice.

He didn't know why he was there and he really didn't want to face Blaine. The cat's head turned to follow him but its body stayed perfectly still. Kurt rounded the corner quickly and hurried on farther into the heart of the house. He did his best to not make a sound but just before he reached the kitchen he stumbled over a pair of boots and flumped to the ground. A split second later his head began to pound violently.

The sound of singing stopped and when Kurt opened his eyes a pair of naked feet stood before him. He followed the loose sweatpants up to a trim waist and burnt umber T-shirt sporting the logo of a wildlife club. Even in his pained state Kurt was able to gripe, "You still own that old thing?"

Blaine chuckled and crouched down to get close to eyelevel with Kurt. "The thing I really like is that I'm able to still fit into it. Head hurting?"

"No, I'm just on the ground writing in pain because it seems like fun." Kurt bit after a particularly nasty throb.

Blaine rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "No need to get pissy with me. C'mon, get up; I made you pancakes to soak up whatever alcohol is left in your system." He helped Kurt to his feet and directed him into the kitchen and settled him on a chair at the island.

"Were you trying to kill me?" Kurt asked, shielding his eyes from the overhead light.

Blaine stopped in mid step and gave Kurt a look that clearly asked, 'Are you nuts?'

"That yellow monstrosity out there tried to suffocate me-"

Blaine's eyebrow rose a little, "You mean Quiddich?" He asked.

Kurt waved him off, "Whatever. I woke up with it on my face, wait, Quiddich? Really Blaine?"

Blaine shrugged. "He was originally named Mozart but after Carrie took care of him for a weekend he became Quiddich. I'm sorry about his attempt on your life but I assure you it was nothing personal. If I don't lock him out of my room at night he tries to suffocate me too. Do you want chocolate chip pancakes or plain? I made both."

Kurt stared at Blaine through squinted eyes, wondering idly if he'd fallen through the rabbit hole into the Twilight Zone. He half expected Rod Sterling's voice to randomly start narrating his life. "Why am I here instead of my apartment?"

Blaine scooped a couple of pancakes onto a plate. "Your rather charming friend, I think his name was Jason, said that you had, and I quote, 'a bone to pick with me.'"

Kurt tried to cast his mind back but it didn't work. Instead his head made an annoyed throb and he accepted the plate that Blaine offered him. It smelled amazing. Something sparked in Kurt's memory, "Oh God! Work! Where's my phone!" He screeched, scrambling to his feet but was stopped at the feel of Blaine's hand grabbing his wrist to stop him.

"A woman named Sadie called around seven this morning. I answered, sorry, but she wanted to know what kind of shape you were in. When I told her she asked me to relay to you that Lawrence will perform for you tonight and she will see you for Sunday matinee."

Kurt stared at Blaine for a moment and settled down in his seat, noticing the moment that Blaine let go of his wrist. "Thank you. It's wonderful I have an understudy. I really appreciate him." Kurt rambled and looked down at the plate. Blaine didn't say anything. Kurt broke the silence, "I didn't say anything untoward towards you… or anything about Bambi's mom?"

Blaine's right eyebrow raised a little, "Bambi's mother?"

"Never mind." Kurt said quickly. He realized then that the food smelled amazing, the kitchen was wonderfully clean and white, and he and Blaine were alone and it wasn't awkward.

At least it wasn't awkward until Kurt noticed it wasn't.

Kurt quickly took a bite of chocolate chip pancake and made an appreciative noise as Blaine slid a mug of coffee across the counter. "So… you've turned into a crazy cat man?" Kurt asked, attempting conversation.

"Because of Quiddich?" He asked and Kurt nodded. "No, actually, I inherited him, and Pachelbel and Brahms."

"…Pachelbel and Brahms?" Kurt asked with a little laugh.

Blaine smiled softly at Kurt and it was then that Kurt realized that was the kind of smile Blaine used to give him at school. "Carrie hasn't had time to rename them, though I think she's contemplating Givenchy for Pachelbel's new name."

Kurt took another bite of pancake, "Who is Carrie?"

Blaine settled in a chair across from Kurt and watched Kurt levelly, "She was one of the girls that lived in the dorm near me. I shared an apartment with her for a couple years. She's an artist and has a small gallery in Soho. When I had too much on my plate last year she offered to take care of them because I just, couldn't."

Blaine was smiling but he obviously was sad, or maybe Kurt was just now noticing how sad he looked. "Where did you inherit them from?" Kurt pushed, starting on his second pancake.

Blaine was silent for a moment, "They were all my mom's cats. I inherited the cats after they died."

Kurt's fork clattered against the plate, "Oh, Blaine. I'm so sorry! What happened?" Blaine's parents had been very young, barely in their forties when Kurt had dated Blaine.

"My mom developed cancer and caught it too late. And my dad died of heart problems a few months later. I'm still trying to settle everything. They left their house and property in Connecticut to me and of course the cats." Blaine said, unnervingly calm as he swirled his coffee a little.

"So, that's why you came to New York?" Kurt asked and Blaine lifted his shoulder in a non-committal shrug.

"Kinda." Kurt continued to eat, not wanting to overstep his bounds. "How's your headache?"

Kurt smiled a little, "Much better. Thank you Blaine." Blaine smiled at Kurt and they fell into what could only be considered a companionable silence. Less than a minute later a slender black cat with green eyes sauntered into the kitchen and jumped onto the counter. Kurt winced a little, "Is he supposed to be on the counter?"

"I've learned it's smarter to just let Brahms do what he wants." Blaine said, petting the cat lovingly as he rubbed his head against Blaine's arm.

Kurt grinned a little and finally said, "Look at this." Blaine tilted his head to the side, "We're talking, like friends. Yesterday you said you didn't think you'd be able to be near me but look at us. We're talking."

Blaine looked like he was about to draw back into his shell but Kurt stopped him. "Let's try this again. Please?" Kurt asked and when he saw the look of confusion in Blaine's eye he said, "I want us to meet again without our backgrounds. A clean slate."

Blaine furrowed his brows, "You want me to forget everything we did, you did?"

"No, I just want us to put everything aside for the moment and meet each other as Blaine and Kurt living in New York."

Blaine couldn't help but smile a little, "Sounds a little juvenile but alright, go ahead." Kurt bristled a little at his idea being called juvenile but he still held out his hand for Blaine to take.

"My name is Kurt Hummel. I've been starring in Worry Well for the past two years and will probably be jobless soon. I am openly gay and I live alone." He swallowed a little, his eyes never leaving Blaine. He could see mistrust there and it terrified him.

A moment later Blaine touched Kurt's hand in a strong grasp, "I'm Blaine Richards, budding author. I've written two books and am working on another one, slated to be out next summer. I have been openly gay since I was thirteen and I live with three cats named Quiddich, Mozart, and Brahms."

"It's wonderful to meet you Blaine." Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand and then, there it was, that smile.

Kurt finished his plate and then realized he felt very gross. "I need to clean up and take a nap." Kurt said, loath to have to leave Blaine after this extraordinary reconnection.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." Blaine said, escorting Kurt back to the door.

Just before he left Kurt turned and looked to Blaine, trying to convey his inner turmoil with his eyes, "I'd like to come and visit you again. If I did would you let me in?"

Blaine tilted his head to the side, "I wouldn't close the door in your face."

"Good, I'm glad. I will see you around Blaine." Kurt felt like the end of one of their dates when they were kids. This was the part though when Blaine would kiss him or he would kiss Blaine, it really never mattered who initiated it. All that mattered was that there had been a kiss.

But this time there wasn't one. All that happened was Blaine smiling at him and closing the door.

Kurt smiled a little to himself and turned, wandering to the elevator and flinching when the bell dinged to let him in.

Blaine felt his heart racing when the door closed. He turned and hit his head against the wood. "What are you doing?" He breathed, pressing the heel of his fist against his eye.

With great effort his pushed away from the door and wandered into his living room where Quiddich was sitting and staring at him. Blaine was still very used to living alone so he was prone to talking to himself but not his cats. He hadn't gotten to the point where he was so lonely he was willing to talk to the cats for company.

He patted the cat on the head and went to his room. Carrie was expecting him at her studio in an hour and he refused to be late. Blaine dressed quickly and hurried out of the apartment a few minutes later to hail a cab.

Carried was waiting for him patiently when he arrived. She had abandoned her latest painting for the moment and received him with a drink in hand. Usually he turned her down but today he accepted almost immediately. "Isn't it a little early for you Blaine?" She asked sweetly.

"I'm in serious trouble." Blaine said, giving her the glass.

Immediately Carrie looked worried, "Is everything alright? The bank's not giving you more problems, right?"

Blaine took a seat in the chaise lounge, "No. It's Kurt." A second later Carrie settled by his side, looking expectant. "He came to my apartment last night very drunk and I called Chance for help but-"

"He didn't help. That's to be expected. What did Kurt want?"

"To be mad at me for coming back into his life."

Carried tilted her head to the side a little, "But… isn't he the one who keeps popping up where you are?" Blaine shrugged. "What did Chance tell you?"

"To get away from him." Carried immediately rolled her eyes in exasperation. "What do you think?"

She smiled at him lovingly, "Well, sweetie, you know I'm a bit of a romantic, so my opinion might be a little biased. Are you ready for this?"

"I think I might be, proceed." Blaine said with a smile. Carried readjusted herself and settled her hands in her lap,

"Kurt was a big part of your life and yes, while he did break up with you in quite a horrible way you have to look at your ages. You both were young and you were his first boyfriend. Having you so far away would have been horrible and even having you as just a friend would have been even worse. I think you two would have probably slipped away from each other even then. He's grown up, he has a steady job, and he's still single."

Blaine watched her carefully, "So, you think I should just let him back into my life?"

She shook her head and smiled, "Not exactly, I think you should slowly ease him back in. He left you in the dirt but by doing that you both were given a way to grow up as you were meant to. I don't know if you have a future but he's there and he's obviously still interested and he's not most likely not going to rob you in the middle of the night and leave you with just your clothes and drivers license." Blaine winced but he knew she was right.

"Sometimes I wonder why you're with Chance."

She stared at the ceiling for a moment in contemplation, "We complete each other. He's a cynic and I tell him to shut up. It works."

"Obviously." Blaine chuckled, resting his head on Carrie's shoulder.

They chatted for a few hours while Carrie alternated between three different paintings she was working on. Finally a man sauntered into the room. He was tall and blond with gold hair and glasses and a smart appearance. "Blaine! Good to see you up and about. Did you get rid of Kurt?"

"Don't answer him." Carrie said immediately, cutting off Blaine.

Blaine smiled softly and rolled his eyes at her then answered Chance, "No, we had a good chat this morning and then he went home to sleep off his hangover."

Chance gave Blaine a very distressed sigh and collapsed next to him, "You need to get him out of your head or he'll have you wrapped around his little finger again. You, my friend, have barely any spine and you know it."

Blaine knew he should be insulted, but he knew that Chance was kinda right. "I have to disagree with you sweetheart." Carried said, turning away from her painting of a landscape scene.

"Of course you do." Chance murmured.

"Quiet Chance, Blaine come here." Blaine immediately complied and moved to stand next to her painting. "I agree with Chance about how he is capable of wrapping you around his pinkie, but I think you have that power over him too."

Chance groaned, "Carrie."

"No, I knew Blaine when he was dating Kurt so I have more insight here. You just sit there and look pretty."

Chance grinned and leaned back, crossing his legs, "That I can do."

Blaine continued to smile, listening patiently to their banter. Some days, when he listened to them, he wondered if he would ever be able to have a relationship like theirs. "-are you listening?" Carrie's voice filtered into his head and he snapped back to attention.

"I told you that you were boring him." Chance quipped and Carrie made a movement with her hand to tell him to shut up.

She turned to Blaine and settled her hands on his shoulder, "I'll make this short. You do need a bit of backbone now. I think you should treat him like any other suitor. Let him pursue you but don't let him get too close. If someone else asks you out, accept their offer, what have you got to lose?"

Blaine rubbed his temples, "Alright. Fine. I'll be careful."

In all honesty he was tired of being told to be careful. He was always careful. He was so careful that he didn't date anyone after Kurt until the beginning of his junior year at Yale when Shane came into his life. They'd dated for five years and in the end Shane hurt Blaine just like Kurt had.

Everyone seemed to forget that. Even Blaine did sometimes. Kurt had really meant more to him in those few months than Shane did the entire time they were together.

Chance stood and moved behind Carried, rubbing her shoulders, "That reminds me. I met the perfect guy for you. He works for the New York Public Library and yes, he did go to Princeton, but you shouldn't hold that against him. He is a very wonderful guy. His name is Mark. What do you think can I give him your number?"

Blaine took a moment to think about the offer. "Yes, that sounds fine. But… my home number, okay? I don't like strange people calling my cell phone."

Chance beamed at Blaine but Carrie's lips were pursed in annoyance. She looked as unsure about this as Blaine felt.

He bid good day to his friends and left them just as David called, asking him to dinner. He agreed and met David at an Italian restaurant with New Age music playing softly in the background.

"You look tired." David said in place of a greeting.

"I feel like I've been run over by a herd of Wiffenpoofs." Blaine said, feigning cheerfulness.

David laughed a little, "Lovely mental image. What's really up?"

"I've been dealing with people giving me advice about what to do with Kurt. Carrie says go for it but be careful, Chance says throw him out with the garbage." Blaine said, settling his napkin in his lap.

David quirked an eyebrow at Blaine and said, "Kurt? I thought you were going to avoid him after our dinner."

"I had planned on that, but he doesn't seem to want to leave me alone. He came to my home drunk and stayed on my couch and now he's trying to worm into my life again. He wants to be friends once more."

David folded his hands beneath his chin and grinned, "Isn't this how it started before? He spied on the Warblers and you took care of him and then he started off as your friend and then became more."

Blaine shook his head and cut off his friend, "Don't give me anymore advice. I don't think I could take it."

David laughed good naturedly, "Just listen to me for a second. I think you're overthinking things like you always do. Can't you ever go with the flow and let things happen as they do?"

"No, it's not in my genetic makeup." Blaine deadpanned. David chuckled a little,

"Well, then try. You're so tightly wound that any moment you're going to wind too tight and then BOING! You're going to spring and then where are you going to be?"

Blaine stared at David's serene expression, "Did that make sense to you?"

"No, did it make sense to you?"

Blaine thought for a moment, "Kinda."

"Good. Glad I could help. Now, let's order, I'm starved." David said, opening the menu. Blaine laughed a little and followed his lead.

When he went home that night it was dead silent in the apartment except for the beeping from his answering machine. Pachelbel was stretched across the counter and her tail was twitching irritably at him. He patted her on the head and pressed play on the answering machine.

"Hello Blaine, this is Mark. Chance talked to you about me earlier? Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me sometime. I understand you're busy so call me back at your earliest convenience." Blaine frowned and went to his room to pick up his computer and start working on the next chapter of his book.

As he settled down in front of the screen he murmured to Mozart, who jumped on the table next to him, "Another scintillating night in the Richards abode." Blaine stopped to think for a moment and then his head fell into his hands, "Oh dear Lord above. I've started talking to the cats."

Mozart blinked and stared at him, fully content. At least someone was.