"Kurt, please call me back. I want to explain."

It's the third message Blaine's left on Kurt's voice mail, plus five text messages, all variations on the same theme. I'm sorry. Please call me back. I haven't called Sebastian.

But Kurt doesn't call. There are no text messages, and Blaine isn't given a chance to explain. In fact, Kurt is out sick for almost two weeks, so Blaine doesn't see him at work either.

Sebastian, on the other hand, is omnipresent. And he wants Blaine to know it.

"So killer, you want to grab a drink after we finish up tonight?" Sebastian asks Blaine with his usual smirk.

It's only the second shoot Kurt's missed, but Blaine is already feeling uneasy, almost like his skin is the wrong size for his body. Not only that, but his promise to Kurt remains at the forefront of his thoughts, keeping him from accepting Sebastian's invitation out of courtesy.

But Sebastian is undeterred; his advances persist day after day, despite Blaine's endless refrain of "no thank you."

The longer Kurt's gone — and not returning Blaine's calls — the feeling of unease gradually gives way to plain old loneliness. Blaine considers one of Sebastian's offers of lunch, only to find himself even more determined to steer clear of him when he sees Sebastian flirting with Zach's assistant only moments later.

Sebastian is obviously not interested in friendship or dating, and there's still the issue of Kurt.

"Sebastian, I appreciate the offer," he says, "but I've got some work to catch up on, and I think I'll call Kurt to see how he's feeling."

If the disdain Sebastian's showing at the mention of Kurt's name is any indication, Blaine made the right choice. He can't betray Kurt by befriending Sebastian, let alone dating him.

"You don't really know Kurt that well, do you?" Sebastian asks, his lips twisting into a gross parody of a smile.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine says.

Sebastian sighs.

"Me too," he says. "He'll never give it up, you know. He doesn't do casual sex."

Blaine doesn't bother to tell Sebastian he's not looking for casual sex either because it's none of his business, and his mind has wandered back to Kurt.

In just a few weeks, Kurt had become Blaine's closest confidante and his best friend. Blaine misses him terribly, and knowing that Kurt might still be upset with him makes it all somehow worse. But that's the thing, isn't it? Blaine knows next to nothing about Kurt. When they're together they mostly talk about movies, music, or fashion; they rarely talk about personal things. So why is he putting his life on hold for someone he barely knows?

After Sebastian walks away, he picks up his phone, which has become an overwhelming backlog of unanswered texts and voicemails that he hasn't even bothered listening to. He's been neglecting his friends, only responding to work-related emails, and, in general, wanting to decline every offer to grab dinner, drinks, or coffee with anyone who's not Kurt.

Kurt is his friend, though, not his boyfriend. He knows he really should make an effort to see his other friends, but he doesn't want to.

Blaine notes three texts from Sebastian, each one a slight variation on an invitation to dinner. Sebastian is clearly interested. Regardless of how Kurt feels about him, Sebastian doesn't seem to feel the same way.

But it's Kurt. So he deletes Sebastian's texts.

He sets his phone down, promising himself he'll respond to Wes about going out with him, Trent, and Thad for his birthday. He never does.

Meanwhile, Sebastian's comment about Kurt niggles at the back of his mind the entire week, eating away at his resolve until it comes to a head the day after Blaine's 30th birthday. Without Kurt's presence to distract him, or even a text to wish him a happy birthday, Blaine had fallen deep into a bit of self-loathing and loneliness, drinking a bottle of wine by himself and passing out on his sofa at midnight. Quite frankly, the thought of spending another Friday night alone feels downright pathetic.

Maybe that's why his guard is down the next time Sebastian asks him out.

"Blaine, when are you going to give in and go out on one little, harmless date with me?"

Blaine glances up and makes eye contact with Sebastian for the first time that day. He looks hopeful, all traces of the usual predator gone. That's new.

"Are you free tonight?"

Sebastian's face lights up.

"So what changed your mind, Blaine?" Sebastian asks, glancing over his glass at Blaine with gleaming eyes.

Blaine takes a deep breath.

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure."

It's a lie, of course. He's here to prove something to himself, about his feelings for Kurt, about his own sanity. He's lonely and bored; he's also worried he's become too attached to his best friend. A man – no not a man, a boy – who is too young for him.

"Wow, way to flatter a guy."

He's being sarcastic, of course. Not that it matters. Sebastian has a body that Blaine wouldn't mind exploring with his tongue. The only problem is Sebastian acts like he knows it. It's unnerving.

"No, that's not what I meant," Blaine says. "I mean, well, you're an attractive guy, Sebastian. And I'm not getting any younger. I'd be crazy not to give you a shot."

Blaine takes another swig from his Jack and Coke, the heat of the liquor making his face feel warm and flushed.

"So I'm like a pre-midlife crisis date?"

"No, no," Blaine insists, dropping his head in reaction to his mild embarrassment over insulting Sebastian twice in the last minute. "It's hard to explain, but … Okay, have you ever had a moment in your life where you thought 'What am I waiting for?' Like you realized you needed to seize the moment or something?"

"Maybe," Sebastian says. "So this is you seizing the moment?" He looks bored, like he doesn't quite care what the answer to that question is.

Blaine considers his inquiry anyway. Is this a moment worthy of seizing? Is Sebastian worth it? Kurt is so young, not to mention Blaine's friend. Even in his mind, he can almost taste the bitterness of the word on his tongue, but acknowledging his feelings for Kurt is out of the question. With Sebastian there and Kurt out of the picture, it's easy to rationalize his decision.

"Well, yeah."

Another lie. What he's really thinking about is seizing one of those moments with Kurt. Taking a chance when the sparks fly and the heat between them sizzles and pops. Convincing himself that he's talking about taking a chance with Sebastian becomes easier without the quiet thrill of Kurt's presence there to remind him.

"I can work with that," Sebastian says.

Blaine looks down at his drink and rolls the glass in his hand, watching the deep amber liquid swirl around the ice cubes. He might as well make the most of the evening.

"So how did you get into modeling?" Blaine asks, cheerfully taking control of the conversation along with a bite of his salad. "Was it planned or did you just stumble on it like Kurt?"

Sebastian's calm expression falters slightly at another mention of Kurt's name, but only for a fraction of a second.

"A little of both," he says.

"So you had a plan to stumble on it?" Blaine teases.

"Something like that. My agent is actually a friend of the family. He'd been bugging me for years. So I lucked out a little bit in the beginning, but I do actually want to be a model."

"Are you into fashion?" Blaine asks, thinking about Kurt.

"No, I'm in it for the hot guys," Sebastian says, pointing his fork at Blaine. "Being a model makes it easier to get laid."

Sebastian winks, and Blaine coughs as a piece of mushroom catches in his throat.

"I-is that an important thing to you?" Blaine sputters before wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Sebastian chuckles. "Sex?" Blaine nods, and Sebastian continues, "Well, I am a fan." His smile is teasing, playful.

Blaine chews slowly, unsure of what to say to that. He can't argue the point. Sex, as a rule, is something Blaine enjoys. The idea of no-strings-attached sex had never been his particular cup of tea, but he'd never begrudge someone else of indulging. Blaine has always been of the mindset that as long as it's consensual, people should do what they want in bed — or anywhere else for that matter. And really, Sebastian could have just about any guy he wants. It makes sense.

But having spent so much time with Kurt as of late, Sebastian's cavalier attitude feels so foreign, and Blaine can't help but wonder if his opinion of Kurt is entirely accurate.

"What did you mean when you said I don't really know Kurt?"

Sebastian sets his fork down with a sigh and steeples his hands under his chin.

"Has he ever told you anything about himself?"

"Some things, yes," Blaine says quickly, feeling defensive. Kurt has obviously kept things from him, but Sebastian doesn't need to know that.

"But nothing of real substance, right?"

Sebastian takes Blaine's silence as confirmation.

"I'm just saying, he doesn't let people get close. You don't know him. Trust me, I've seen it before."

Blaine looks down at his plate, moving an olive around with his fork. He doesn't want to dwell on how much more Sebastian might know about Kurt. He's also afraid if he continues to think or talk about Kurt, his feelings will be on full display for Sebastian to mock, or worse, tell Kurt.

"So tell me something about you," Blaine says, changing the subject again. It feels like a betrayal to even consider getting information on Kurt from someone else. He can wait for Kurt to tell him.

Sebastian grins and then sighs before answering.

"My father's a state's attorney. He married my mother for her money, which she used to buy new tits after she used it to bag a husband. I have an older sister, Jacqueline. She's at Harvard Law, living out the family dream and hating every minute of it. I'm the gay disappointment of a son who's only accepted because he made it big as a model and mommy dearest can show me off to all her over-medicated Junior League harpies. I let them gush about my washboard abs while they talk about how their husbands are all on Viagra so they can fuck their secretaries stupid. Meanwhile, I'm usually fucking their closeted sons or hetero-flexible pool boys."

Blaine bites his lip, but a laugh escapes anyway.

"It's okay," Sebastian says when Blaine covers his mouth. "You can laugh. It's ridiculous even to me, and I lived it."

"Reminds me a little of my family," Blaine confesses with a genuine smile. Suddenly Sebastian doesn't seem so bad.

After dinner, Sebastian suggests they check out a small club where he knows the DJ. In for a penny, in for a pound, Blaine decides, and agrees to join him. Besides, they've uncovered a shared experience in their past — well, a similar one at least. Blaine can relate to Sebastian in a way, and he can tell neither of them wants to go home alone yet. Too much like their childhoods.

There are shots and dancing and more shots. And then kissing. Sebastian's tongue feels nice, and his muscles are firm under Blaine's hands where they grip at his sides.

"Let's go to my place," Sebastian says into his ear. His voice is low, a hot breath tickling Blaine's neck.

"But we're dancing," Blaine says, straining to be heard over the thrumming bass line.

"It's getting crowded," Sebastian says, fanning himself. "And hot. Come on… let's get out of here."

Blaine feels the sheen of sweat on his face and back acutely now. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

"Um, okay," he says.

Sebastian grins at him and grabs him by the hand, leading him off the dance floor and toward the door.

Blaine barely remembers how they get to Sebastian's apartment, focusing instead on the pavement beneath his feet as they walk. His head is swimming and the air feels cool on his face now that they're outside.

"This is me," Sebastian says, holding a door open for Blaine to walk through. They climb three flights of stairs and Sebastian pulls out his keys. No sooner than they're through the door, Sebastian's mouth is on Blaine's, his tongue forcing its way between his parted lips when Blaine gasps.

Blaine kisses back out of instinct, letting the feeling wash over him, until finally his alcohol-soaked brain catches up.

"I think I need a drink of water," Blaine rasps.

"Mmm," Sebastian murmurs. "Your mouth doesn't feel dry." His lips are on Blaine's again and then trailing down his neck.

Blaine moans when Sebastian finds a sensitive spot behind his ear.

"You like that?" Sebastian nips at it with his teeth, and Blaine moans louder.

"God, I bet you're a talker," Sebastian says between kisses. He grips Blaine's shirt in his hands and tugs it free of his pants, trailing his palms up and down Blaine's back.

When a hand presses into the small of his back and then drifts down to cup an ass cheek, Blaine freezes.

"Sebastian, stop," he says, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Huh?" Sebastian mumbles, his tongue tracing a pattern on Blaine's ear.

"Stop." His voice is louder this time, more firm.

Sebastian stops licking Blaine's ear and his hands still.

"Seriously?"

When Sebastian doesn't get a response right away, he presses a small kiss to Blaine's neck. "Come on… doesn't this feel good?" He squeezes Blaine's ass again.

"Not tonight," he says.

Sebastian's left hand reaches down and cups Blaine's crotch, smiling when he finds Blaine half hard. "You don't mean that," he says.

"Get off," Blaine says, pushing on Sebastian's shoulders. Sebastian doesn't move, though. His eyes are flashing with something that makes Blaine's pulse race. It has a sobering effect too.

Blaine shoves harder the second time and says, "I'm not that easy. Not tonight."

What Blaine means is, "not ever," because there's no way that he'd ever sleep with a guy who has even this much trouble taking no for an answer.

Sebastian removes his hands from Blaine's lower half, but stays well within his personal space, bringing his hands up to frame Blaine's body against his front door. He glares down at Blaine, his grey-green eyes burning with a ferocity Blaine hasn't seen on him before.

"Christ, you're as bad as Hummel," Sebastian says, pushing off from the door and pointing at Blaine. "Actually no, you're worse."

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asks, standing up straight and tucking his shirt back into his pants.

"At least he put out first!"

"He… what?" Blaine stammers. Sebastian must find the look of shock on his face amusing because he laughs.

"Oh yeah," he says. "Kurt was a fantastic fuck. Not much of a talker, but he makes these delicious noises, all gasps and whimpers and 'Fuck me harder, Sebastian.' "

Sebastian's voice pitches higher as he mimics gasps and moans. Blaine's face flushes hot and his hands clench in fists.

"Then of course he had to go and fuck everything up by getting all clingy and shit."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Blaine asks. Kurt is definitely not clingy. His mind flashes back to a text message from a few weeks ago when Kurt apologized for being a clingy drunk, but nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, Kurt goes out of his way not to touch people. Blaine's brain cannot reconcile his version of Kurt with what Sebastian is saying.

"I. Fucked. Hummel. And he loved it. But of course he couldn't just be happy with epic sex. He wanted a fucking boyfriend." Sebastian's lips curl up as if he's just said the most vulgar word in the English language.

"So you just fucked him and then told him to get lost," Blaine says through clenched teeth. His eyes are burning, but he'll be damned if he's going to cry in front of this asshole.

"Well I sure as hell wasn't going to play house with him," Sebastian says, laughing. "He was hot, and his attitude made him a challenge. I had no idea he'd turn out to be so good in bed. I thought we had a good thing going. We'd go out dancing, get drunk, come back here and fuck. When he told that man-child David we were dating, I had to set the record straight."

"How long did that go on?" Blaine asks. He needs to know. Something tells him this one detail might be important.

"A few weeks maybe," Sebastian says with a shrug. "I don't know. It was almost a year ago now. Does it matter?"

Blaine's heartbeat quickens as he considers this new information. Kurt doesn't date because of Sebastian; it all makes sense now.

"No," he says truthfully, because it doesn't matter — not like he thought it would.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sebastian says, his face softening. He brings a hand up to Blaine's shoulder and strokes his thumb slowly over the fabric of Blaine's shirt. The gesture isn't threatening, but Blaine still tenses. Sebastian either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it. "I get kind of pushy when I've been drinking. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

Blaine's face feels numb. He's completely sober now and just wants to get the hell out of Sebastian's apartment.

"I think I'm just going to go," he says. His voice sounds strained and deeper than usual.

"You want me to call you a cab?"

"No thanks," Blaine says, refusing to make eye contact. "I think I'm going to walk."

When he closes the door behind him, he sags to the floor in the hallway, feeling like his legs are going to give out.

The next morning Blaine gets up early. He showers and shaves, puts on his favorite oxford and his best-fitting jeans. He heads to the deli on the corner that he knows has the best homemade chicken soup. He buys a quart of it, along with a French baguette with the most delicious chewy crust.

He stops at a florist down the block from the deli and buys a bouquet of circus roses — the drama of the bright yellow with deep crimson at the edges seems perfect for the occasion.

He walks into a small, two-story building and knocks on the door of the first apartment. He hears a shuffling inside and a voice calls out, "Just a minute!"

While he waits, Blaine hums to himself, Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" stuck in his head since his shower that morning. The door is wrenched open almost violently, a pretty girl with dark brown hair and piercing eyes glares at Blaine. She must be one of Kurt's roommates.

"Can I help you?" she says.

"I'm looking for Kurt," Blaine replies, the sentence coming out more like a question than a definitive statement.

"Hey Black Plague, you've got a visitor!" she yells, angling her face into the apartment.

"Who is it?" Kurt calls from somewhere inside. His voice sounds muffled and hoarse.

"I don't know, some dork with roses. Get off your ass and find out for yourself. I'm late for work!"

"Thanks a lot, Satan."

"God, he's a fucking drama queen," the woman says. "Just go on in. I'm sure he'll be out in a minute. If not, his room's the first door on the left."

She steps back to let Blaine past her, then pulls the door shut and she's gone. Blaine looks around and takes in the small living room. It's sparsely decorated with mismatched furniture, but still manages to feel like a home. There are photos of Kurt with various groups of girls, including the woman who answered the door, in frames on a small bookshelf, next to a comfy looking chair and an antique lamp in the corner. The sofa looks like it's had more than one owner, but it's clean and fits well with the décor.

He's just admiring a large wall clock that looks like an overgrown stopwatch when he hears a muffled cough from behind him. He turns just as Kurt recognizes him and his eyes go wide.

"Blaine!"

"Hi, Kurt," he says with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, tugging his hoodie closer to his body.

"I heard you were sick. Thought you could use some soup." He holds up the bag from the deli.

Kurt's eyes dart to the bag and then the flowers in Blaine's other hand.

"Also for you," Blaine says, holding them out for Kurt to take. "My nana always liked fresh flowers when she was sick. She said the bright colors took the fever away."

When Kurt steps forward to take the bouquet from Blaine, he notices for the first time how puffy and red Kurt's eyes are. His skin has lost its usual pink undertones, his thick chestnut hair wild and sticking out in all directions. It's adorable.

"How are you feeling?" Blaine asks, following Kurt into the small, bright kitchen.

"Like death," Kurt says. "My fever broke last night, though. So I should be back at work soon."

Blaine sets the soup down on the counter.

"Kurt, why don't you sit down, and I'll put those in some water." Blaine pulls out a chair at their island.

To his credit, Kurt doesn't argue and he takes a seat. He also folds his arms on the counter and drops his head to rest on them. Blaine finds a bowl in one of the cupboards and pours some soup for Kurt, searching through drawers until he finds a spoon.

"Here, eat this," he says, nudging it toward Kurt's elbow.

Kurt lifts his head and groans. "God, that smells amazing," he says. "I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

Blaine sees a vase on top of the refrigerator and fills it with water, unwrapping the roses and placing them in it.

"There, doesn't that look festive?" His smile feels brighter than the occasion calls for, and he looks expectantly at Kurt, hoping for a reprieve.

"Blaine, why are you here?" Kurt asks, spoon halfway to his mouth.

Blaine's smile dims a little as he considers his reasons.

"Because you were right."

"About?"

"Sebastian. He's a jerk."

"That's an understatement," Kurt says, rolling his eyes.

"And I wanted to be friends again," Blaine says.

"We're friends," Kurt insists.

"You wouldn't return my calls."

"I'm sick."

"Or texts."

"Fine," Kurt says, pouting a little, as if conceding is the last thing he wants to do. "I was mad. But I'm not now… promise."

Blaine searches Kurt's face for a moment, deciding the slightly pinched, angry look is a result of his illness and not insincerity. Kurt's blue-green eyes are shining as he holds Blaine's gaze.

They stay like that for a moment, just smiling at each other, both of them reveling in the ease of simply being together. Much like riding a bike or making boxed macaroni and cheese, it's just something they do, like it's something they've always done. No deep thought or analysis required. And it just feels right.

Kurt blinks slowly and yawns, pulling Blaine out of the moment.

"You look tired," Blaine says. "Do you need to lie down?"

Kurt shakes his head and swallows a mouthful of soup.

"No, I've been doing nothing but sleeping for days," he says. "Can you stay for a bit? Maybe we could watch a movie or something?"

"Sure. I'd like that."

Blaine doesn't really pay attention to the movie, some drama about young lovers being separated, and the heroine dies of cancer before her lover can tell her how he feels. It's depressing actually, but Kurt is beautiful as he quietly lets the tears spill, sniffling and coughing periodically from his cold. Blaine steals glances, memorizing the pattern of the faint stubble along Kurt's neck and jaw, the way he licks and bites his bottom lip absently. Kurt's lashes are damp and he blinks slowly and dabs at his eyes.

"It's just so sad, you know," Kurt says, sniffling as the credits roll. "She thought he ran off with her best friend, but he got in that car accident, and then when he came back she was already sick. But she didn't want to tell him she was dying, and he thought she didn't love him. And, god, when she died, he found those letters."

Blaine tries to remember the plot of the movie; he remembers crying and yelling mostly… and Kurt. He laughs at something and Blaine glances over at him again. His eyes gleaming and his cheeks flushing pink.

"You probably think I'm such a silly romantic," he says.

"It's not silly."

Blaine looks at Kurt, really looks at him, rumpled and unshowered, sniffling and crying and, dressed in sweat pants and an old t-shirt and hoodie, and realizes he's fallen in love. In spite of all the insistence at being friends and the ten-year age difference, he's completely gone. Kurt is what he wants.

"Kurt…" Blaine inhales around the word; it comes out barely a sound, choked and emotional.

"My dad has cancer," Kurt says suddenly.

Blaine blinks at him, unsure if he's heard him correctly.

"Your d– I'm sorry… cancer?"

"Prostate cancer. He had surgery last month," Kurt says. "He's fine now, mostly. Gets tired easily. But he had a heart attack a couple years ago, and sometimes I'm just scared that something is going to happen and he won't be there."

"Does he still live in Ohio?"

"Yeah, with my stepmom, Carole," he says. A smile quirks the corners of his mouth when he mentions her. It's obvious he cares about his family a great deal.

"When was the last time you went home?"

"Um, last Christmas, I think. It's been a while."

"Maybe you need to plan a trip," Blaine suggests. Just because he's not close with his parents, doesn't mean he doesn't understand the concept. He finds himself feeling a little jealous of Kurt and immediately chastises himself. Kurt's dad is sick.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this," Kurt says. "I don't... I don't talk about this stuff often."

"Why not?"

"I just… don't," he says with a shrug. "No one to tell."

For a brief second, Blaine considers confessing his feelings to Kurt, but he senses now isn't the time. He realizes that their friendship is more important to him than his own feelings, but he still wants Kurt to know that he cares. Blaine reaches out and rests his hand on Kurt's tense back, rubbing loose circles as he feels the muscles begin to relax. No, now is not the time to unload his feelings for Kurt or his guilt for going out with Sebastian.

"Well, now you have me," Blaine says, smiling, hoping Kurt understands how much he means it.