Blaine opened the door to Chandler, his hand raised and about to knock.

“Oh, well arent you just a dreamboat on legs?”

Blaine didnt really understand what he was saying—something about legs on a boat, which—nope, that made no sense. But the way Chandler said it made Blaine instantly remorseful. The humorless way Chandler had grumbled at him and looked Blaine over, it was clear the boy wasnt too pleased with him.

Well—whatever. It wasnt like he had to impress Chandler, of all people. Hed only met the boy once, and even then not officially, at Rachels party the night before. Chandler was hyper, loud, and obnoxious. But, it was clear how his personality somehow endeared him to several of Kurts friends.

It had to be the fact that Chandler was quite obviously head over heels in love with Kurt.

However, Blaine could tell—everyone could probably tell—that Kurt didnt feel as strongly about Chandler.

Pity welled up inside him, and he smiled kindly back at the boy, and said, “Good morning.”

He heard telltale stomping on the stairs and before he could turn to see Kurt flying down them at breakneck speed, he heard Kurt exclaim, “Oh, god—why dont you ever wear clothes, Blaine?” Blaine saw Kurt paused a few steps up from the landing, his hands gripping the rails, staring down at Blaine standing in the doorway, and apparently taking in Blaines running outfit with a very careful eye.

Blaine peered down and reevaluated his running attire, pretty much getting the gist of Kurts outburst entirely. Yeah, there was nothing wrong with his look. That was pretty much the reaction he was going for with his black wifebeater tank and tiny, tiny green shorts. Blaine looked back up at Kurt and grinned.

He didnt know why Kurt seemed so surprised—he used to go running shirtless just after he arrived in August. It must be the shorts. Blaine had been holding onto those for a special occasion. Like today.

He wasnt trying to torture Kurt, but it couldnt hurt to show him what he was missing, right? Or maybe that just wasnt appropriate, given their talk last night. He shouldnt try to keep pushing into Kurts personal life if Kurt needed space.

“Kurt?” Chandler called, not able to see Kurt from his position just outside the Hummel-Hudsons front door. From the look on his face, he definitely heard Kurts commentary.

“Chandler?” Kurt called, and came down the rest of the stairs to greet him. “Im almost ready, give me two seconds—”

Chandler sighed. “Kurt, that sentence was truly terrifying. Please tell me—”

“No, no, Chan—I was just kidding. I swear,” Kurt said, laughing nervously, and looking back at Blaine. “Ill see you later. Enjoy your run.”

“Ciao, Kurt,” Blaine called after them as the two headed to the car idling in the driveway. “Bye-bye, Topo Gigio.”

Chandlers head whipped back around and he starred Blaine down. “Im going to Google that right now, just so you know! Im watching you!”

“Chandler, get in the car,” Kurt said, and Blaine didnt hear the rest—he was already laughing and jogging away down the road.

He didnt hate Chandler, not at all. Chandler seemed like a pretty decent guy. But what did Kurt even see in him? From what Blaine could observe, the two had different types of humor, and there seemed very little in the way of mutual attraction, and romance was nil. He supposed they must have things in common, and loneliness probably had been been a factor in Kurt agreeing to date him in the first place. And their conversation was undoubtedly smoother—Chandler couldnt seem to shut up for more than a second last night before he passed out on Rachels couch. Aside from that, together they looked like a pair of mismatched socks.

Okay, so he was a little bitter. Mostly, he felt ashamed of his own feelings. Kurt took him in when he didnt have to, and treated him with nothing but respect and kindness and friendship, and here Blaine was, a wannabe home-wrecker, and totally failing at it, too. It was just pathetic.

He sighed, and ran a little faster, trying to distance himself from his thoughts.

When he got back from his run, he checked his phone, pointedly ignoring the texts from his father.

He had a message from Santana. Always an interesting experience. He exchanged numbers with a few of Kurts friends the first day of school, but hardly expected anyone to attempt to call or text him, considering his conversational English was only enough to get by, though he was getting more and more sure of his ability every day. (He swore Kurt mumbled under his breath and talked through his teeth to purposely obfuscate what he was saying. And those were always the things Blaine most wanted to hear.)

Santana never seemed to mind the language barrier, hopping right over it whenever she felt, and often pretending it didnt exist at all, which Blaine found refreshing. It was how Kurt treated him most of the time, when Blaine just wanted to talk to someone out loud but didnt have the words to say it in English. Kurt would happily indulge his one-sided conversations, and even try to engage him on what he was saying, despite the fact Kurt had no idea what he was talking about.

Sometimes Kurt was, astoundingly, right on, like that ride home after the first day of school. Blaine had told Kurt that it sucked Kurt couldnt understand him, but that it was alright, because Kurt always knew the right thing to do or say that made him feel like they made up their own language by speaking around each other. He was even brazen enough to say (and cowardly enough, by not saying it in a way Kurt could understand, even though he could) that it was almost romantic.

And then Kurt had said something about the movie Love, Actually, and—yeah, that was exactly what he meant.

He opened the text log from Santana.

She made a comment about Chandler, something about being a little mouse and stealing cheese...Blaines cheese? Then he laughed, and searched the internet for a picture to send back to her.

Blaine, oh my god, that rodent from your homeland looks so familiar!

Blaine was way better at reading English than he was listening to it, and after the visual he sent, Blaine had no trouble understanding the response.

He practically cackled. He wanted to feel bad, but he just couldnt. Did that make him a bad person?

Finn walked in at that moment. “Hey man, whats so funny?” Blaine just showed Finn his phone and waited for the tall boy to get it.

“Wow, yeah, that definitely looks like Chandler...”

Blaine just doubled over laughing at Finns expression that seemed to war between highly amused and terribly stricken.

“Aww, thats not funny, though, thats sad. You guys shouldnt be making fun of him,” Finn said, but Blaine didnt register any heat behind his words, just pity.

Maybe Blaine could afford to be a little cruel. After all, it wasnt like Blaine had any previous knowledge that Kurt was dating the boy. Blaine had spent a month with Kurt and had, yes, fallen for him. This whole boyfriend thing seemed to come out of nowhere, and Blaine really didnt know what to do with his displaced feelings for Kurt. He obviously couldnt keep coming on to Kurt—Kurt had made it clear that he was interested in Blaine, but he was a creature of loyalty. Honestly, Blaine found he couldnt fault Kurt for that.

So clearly, Chandler had won. By default. It didnt matter how charming or alluring Blaine could be, nothing was going to stop Kurt from dating Chandler but Chandler.

*

Kurt avoided Blaine when he returned home from his date last night. Like every date with Chandler, he had a really fun time. And that was it.

They gossiped, and chatted, and Chandler told his best jokes, and they pretended like they were food critics and graded the Breadstix menu, and discussed new music from their favorite artists, and dove into a detailed conversation about the latest celebrity faux pas. They did a terrific job of ignoring the elephant in the room.

When the date was over, Chandler had looked at him once again with hope in his eyes, and Kurt smiled, unsure, back at him.

When he got home, he told Chandler that hed walk himself to the door, and waved at his boyfriend from there, watching as he drove away and sighing.

He unlocked the front door, ever so slowly and quietly, and walked inside.

He peered around the corner to the living room, and saw his father, Blaine and Finn watching a game on T.V. Kurt smiled to himself, and walked up to his bedroom as furtively as he knew how.

The Saturday after Rachels party, Kurt went over Mercedes house for a slumber party with her and Rachel. Usually, it was just the three of them, Tina long ago had forsaken these “girls nights” for precious time licking Mikes abs. He couldnt really blame her.

Tonight, however, the trio were surprised by Tina, Brittany, Santana and even Sugar party crashing their sleepover.

It soon became obvious what they all wanted.

“Im not here to talk about Blaine, or Chandler, or anything regarding my love-life. So you can all just forget it.”

“But hes such a cutie!” Sugar exclaimed, as if that somehow proved Kurt was in the wrong by withholding apparently valuable information.

“Inquiring minds would like to know,” Tina added with her Cheshire grin.

“Well those minds can all go to hell,” Kurt grumbled. “I dont have anything to say. Nothing has changed, or will change.”

“Told ya,” Santana said to, ostensibly, everyone in the room. “Hes sticking with the mouse,” she said, pressing a button on her phone and shoving it in Sugars face when she asked, what mouse?

“Oooh, yeah, I get it,” she said afterward.

“How about our usual movie then, Kurt?” Mercedes asked.

Kurts shoulders sagged with relief. “That sounds perfect. I need a good distraction.”

Mercedes handed him a pile of DVDs to choose from, and Kurt discovered that the choice of movies to watch that evening were suspiciously limited.

“A Walk In The Clouds, Life Is Beautiful, The Postman, Moonstruck...Cinema Paradiso?” Kurt questioned.

“That ones actually quite good,” Rachel said.

“Guys, cmon,” Kurt groaned, and then looked down at the next option. “Tenebre?” His brows furrowed in confusion at the film in his hands.

Mercedes cocked her head to the side and studied the DVD cover. “Ew, sorry Kurt, I actually borrowed that one from my brother. I just asked him if he had any Italian movies.”

Kurt rolled his head back. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “I just wanted one night where I didnt have to be consumed by thoughts of Blaine. You are all terrible friends.”

Tinas mouth dropped in a surprised “o” and then back to her smarmy expression. “Consumed? Sounds like me dreaming about Mikes abs.”

“Enough of Mikes abs, weve all seen you worshiping them,” Santana said, and then turned to Kurt. “Tell us about Blaines abs.”

Many heads went a-nodding.

Kurt put his head in his hands. “Oh my god...”

“Guys, if he doesnt want to talk about Blaine, he shouldnt have to talk about Blaine!” Rachel said, the arbiter of fairness, for the first time ever. Kurt knew she was aiding him only because she had really come to like Chandler in the few months they had known each other.

And Kurt also realized he should shut his mouth before anything incriminating flew out of it and into Rachels keen ear, lest the information be passed on to his boyfriend, who would surely get the wrong idea. Chandler already knew what Kurt thought about Blaine. It would only pour salt in his open wound if Rachel went behind Kurts back to detail Kurts less-than-innocent thoughts about his housemate. Not that Kurt would willingly divulge that information to this crowd.

“Thank you, Rachel,” Kurt said, leaving it at that.

“Party pooper,” Sugar said, crossing her arms.

“I think thats only fair,” Mercedes said, a sneaky little grin on her face, “but, you really should let us get our vicarious Italian thrill on, Kurt,” she added, holding up the DVDs in her hand. “Just pick one.”

“No.”

“Fine. Well just sit and stare at you until you crack,” Santana said, a manic gleam in her eye. Kurt didnt doubt her intentions.

He sighed. “Do you have Roman Holiday?” he asked, addressing no one in particular and holding out a receiving hand.

Tina put a DVD into his palm and smiled up at him. “Of course.”

“Incorrigible,” Kurt shook his head.

*

“Hey, midget,” Santana said softly. Blaine could feel her kick the side of his foot from where she sat across from him. “Are you asking Kurt to homecoming?” Blaine turned to his right, just in time for Kurt to hiss from his left:

“Dont rise to her bait, Blaine.”

Blaine ignored Kurt for the moment. “What?” he asked, turning to Santana. She just rolled her eyes and took out her phone, pointing to it.

He sighed, and did as she silently commanded. A casual glance in Kurts direction found the boy curiously trying to peek over at his cell. He tried to suppress a smile.

Are you asking Kurt to go with you to the homecoming dance?

Blaine frowned at the message, but not because he misunderstood. He was getting better and better at this everyday, and two months into his American education, he seemed to be doing just fine, if his grades were any indication.

I am not, Santana

WHY NOT?

Blaine looked over at her and shook his head disbelievingly. She just shrugged back innocently.

He has a boyfriend!

He could hear her disgusted tone from the other seat.

Oh my GOD, who CARES. The mouse is on his way out. This is your chance!

His brows furrowed as he deciphered Santanas meaning.

“What? What is she saying to you?” Kurt said, a little loudly.

“Mr. Hummel,” the teacher called out. “This is silent study. Please do so.”

What you mean? Chance? How?

Oh, Blainey. You just leave that to Auntie Tana.

Why you care about Kurt and I?

He looked over at her, but after the girl caught his eye, she looked down at her phone, typing away, and wouldnt meet his stare. He knew whatever she was writing now was not entirely the truth.

Nothings more depressing than 18 years of retained virginity when theres a perfectly good sexual outlet available for banging.

I am 17.

Blaine, your failing to see the point here. And I wasnt talking about you.

The bell rang.

Santana got up first, tossing her barely-used backpack over one shoulder. She leaned down into Blaines space. “Think about it, halfling.”

“Whats she trying to convince you to do?” Kurt said the instant Santana was out the door. "Dont trust a word she says, Blaine!"

“Kurt!” Blaine said, with no small amount of irritation and wonder.

How could someone so infuriating be so adorable? Kurt was the reason for every sleepless night, which turned out to occur nearly every other day now, his mind buzzing with wanting something he knew he couldnt have. It was maddening.

“Okay, I get it,” Kurt said. “You and she have secrets Im apparently not privy to,” Kurt pointed his nose in the air, like he was above this conversation. “If youre not too good for my company, man of mystery, you may escort me to lunch.”

Blaine just laughed and shook his head. “So many words you say.”

Kurt bit his lip, and held out his hand. “Walk with me?”

“Of course.”

*

Kurt wasnt sure what to do, and whenever he was uncertain, he had a conversation with his father. Unfortunately, the conversation he wanted to have was far too sensitive a thing to get into at home.

At the shop, Kurt stepped up to where his father was flipping through a long checklist on a clipboard. “So, dad...”

“Out with it,” Burt said, not pausing his perusal, and making notations on the side.

“I—well, its a delicate topic.”

“Boys,” Burt said, without hesitation.

“Y-yes,” Kurt said, more nervous about his dads ability to read his mind today than about the topic of discussion. “Say, well—for the sake of hypothetical realism, you can imagine them as girls, if thats easier.”

Burt just sighed, rather dramatically, before walking toward a long shelving unit, looking at various items and components and checking them off on his sheet, “lets hear it, Kurt.”

“Okay, so—say youre dating this one person, and theyre great—really great. And you get along, and its fun, and—all that good stuff.”

“Mhm,” Burt said, continuing to concentrate on his work.

“And then theres this other person, who you think is really amazing, and you just seem to get each other, somehow, even if...if its difficult sometimes. And you become friends with them, and really respect them, as a friend. But theyre interested in you, romantically. And its hard, because...because you want to respect them, and respect yourself, and stay true to your boyfriend, er—girlfriend? But, it seems impossible, because theyre really...”

Kurt seemed lost for words in that moment, and his father looked over at him with a pointed expression, waiting.

“...Magnetizing,” Kurt finished.

Burt turned completely to face Kurt. “Magnetizing,” he said.

Kurt shrugged.

Burt blew out a breath. “Well,” he said, “I cant say that I didnt see it comin.”

Kurt was confused. “Huh?”

Burt just shook his head, smiling. “You fallin for Blaine,” he said. “Now, Im not happy hes living at our house while youve got these feelings, but at least hes gay and theres no...misplaced affection this time.” He looked at Kurt squarely in the eye. “You havent been inappropriate at the house, have you? Because I gotta say Kurt, Im not comfortable with that. I know youre off to college next year an can make your own decisions, but until then—”

“Dad!” Kurt interjected, “Weve barely had a lingering hug! Calm thyself!”

A little light groping while drunk at a party one time could hardly count, Kurt thought.

“And Blaine, does he have—these feelings for you?”

“Dad—”

“Kurt.”

Kurt scoffed. “Well, maybe, but like I said—it doesnt matter, right? Im with Chandler, and thats that. You cant make a relationship work across an ocean, right?” He wasnt sure why he wanted his fathers validation so much. He figured he just wanted someone to tell him he was doing the right thing.

Burt just scratched at his neck and looked at Kurt like he was a problem to be solved. It was highly disconcerting.

“Theres no easy answer I can give ya, kid.”

“Really,” Kurt deadpanned.

Burt shrugged. “The heart wants what the heart wants. If its meant to be, itll be.”

Kurt deflated. “Dad...”

Burt pointed a finger at him. “But you tell Blaine—any funny business under my roof, and Ill find a way to send him back to Europe before he can say deported.”

The weekend before homecoming, Chandler brought up the topic of the dance.

West Lima High had theirs last week, and Kurt went as his date. Everything had gone just fine, and he had as good a time as he usually does with his boyfriend.

Then they went back to Chandlers place, which was surprisingly deserted, given Chandlers large family with equally large personalities that were seemingly ubiquitous in the cozy home.

Chandler had set up some fake tea lights in his room—several of them, in fact—so even though they were just plastic lights, they still glowed prettily in the half-light of the room.

And Chandler held his hand, and coyly brought him to the bed, and told Kurt that they should have this first now, before they started their lives in New York together.

And Kurt just—

he couldnt.

Not for lack of trying, because he always tried, because at this point he didnt have a very strong desire to hold onto virginity like it was something sacred. Sure, he wanted it to mean something, and he wanted it to be with someone special, who respected and cared for him, and he needed it, absolutely, to be comfortable and safe. And all of that he already had in abundance with Chandler. So when the opportunities arose to become intimate with his boyfriend, he took them.

Passion, chemistry, love—those were abstractions. They were nice, maybe, but theyd never been particularly relevant to his relationship with Chandler. And they werent very practical concerns when it came to his sex life.

They had made out before, plenty of times. And before Blaine, it had been...alright. Maybe not fireworks, but nothing ever could be fireworks.

It was pleasant, and comforting, to be in the embrace of a true friend who shared a sexual orientation and an obsession with fashion blogs. His lips were as good as any other, in that regard. They made sense where it mattered, passion be damned.

But after Blaine...

After Blaine, the wanting had become too intense to bear.

The want to know someone, underneath their surface. The want to peel away all of his own insecurities and forget himself, lose himself in someone else.

The wanting was another abstraction that didnt fit into Kurts carefully crafted world.

So they had kissed, and tried, and tried again, to get each others clothes off, fumbling with the buttons and clumsy with their words—attempts to seduce, and thrill, and stimulate.

But. Yeah...no. Nothing.

Kurt didnt want to admit it, even to himself. But he had to, because sooner or later, Chandler would have gotten his clothes off, and he would be curious, he would want to know why Kurt wasnt as excited about this new milestone in their relationship as he was. And Kurt really, really didnt want to have to be so crass with a response that would be at the tip of his tongue—

“Chandler, I cant get it up for you because youre not Blaine!”

He already felt enough like an asshole.

So instead, Kurt gently pushed his boyfriend away, and suggested romantic cuddling instead. Said they had all the time in the world for firsts, and that Kurt wasnt ready to take that step just yet.

Chandler had readily agreed, and Kurt felt even more the asshole for lying and being so damn believable. 

Now, it was Kurts turn to host a failed virginity-losing lovemaking session waiting to happen after his own homecoming dance, because isnt that particular cliché the most accepted among teenagers?

“I dont think Im going to go,” Kurt finally said.

“No?” Chandler asked, surprised. “But you love dressing up.”

Kurt shrugged. “Im all school-sponsored-partied-out, I think.”

Chandler just smiled. “Well—great! Maybe we can stay here then, get cozy...”

Yeah, no.

“Actually, I was thinking about going to an anti-homecoming sleepover, just the girls and me.”

“Oh? Are Cedes and Rachie not going?”

Kurt shook his head. “Nope. Proms more their thing this year.”

Chandlers face lit up. “Prom,” he said, the word looking like it evoked something mysteriously beautiful in Chandlers mind. Kurt didnt much want to find out what that was.

He was off the hook for the dance, despite the fact Rachel and Mercedes were attending said dance and in no way having an anti-homecoming party sleepover.

The sheer amount of lies hed told his boyfriend were incredible, racking up like debts he could never afford to pay.

He hoped, in the end, the lying would be worth it.