Chapter 3

"Blaine, please tell me you're joking," Wes says.

"I'm joking?" Blaine replies, wincing and closing his eyes.

"Blaine…"

"I know, I know. But you should have seen these kids, Wes. They don't have anyone else, and you know what the Warblers meant to us. I couldn't leave them high and dry."

"Right, and I'm sure this Kurt kid has nothing to do with it, either," Wes says, his tone sarcastic and harsh over the line.

"Give me some credit … please? I didn't do it for Kurt. I really want to coach this glee club. They're talented kids. They just need some leadership, and from what I hear their last teacher was pretty misguided."

Blaine knows he wouldn't have agreed to do it if it hadn't been for Kurt's pleading, but Wes doesn't need to know that. It's certainly not the reason he's decided to follow through with his promise to Kurt and Tina instead of backing out like he wanted to, and that's what matters, right?

"I thought you said you were too busy for it," Wes says, sighing. Blaine can tell from his tone that he knows this is a lost battle. Wes knows as well as anyone that once Blaine's made up his mind to do something, he's going to do it come hell or high water. So that's that. But he'll still be the voice of reason, if for no other purpose than to say "I told you so" when everything goes south.

"I am, but it's important," Blaine says. "I'll make it work."

"Okay, Tim Gunn, whatever you say. Just promise me you'll keep things professional. Didn't the last guy get fired for being too close to those kids?"

"Yeah, I will. Don't worry. I'll be the picture of decorum," Blaine says. "A Dalton man is a gentleman first, right?"

Wes laughs, and it makes Blaine smile. He knows his best friend will support him, even if he's making the worst decision of his life. Blaine can only hope that his instincts are wrong, and this will turn out to be a good decision.

Unfortunately, that hope only lasts from the end of his conversation with Wes on Sunday evening until about 10:30 a.m. Monday morning when he runs into Sue Sylvester in the hallway.

"Well if it isn't butt chin's replacement," she says.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine says.

"Oh you will be," Sue replies. "I hear you've taken over that sorry excuse for a meeting of Losers Anonymous masquerading as a glee club."

"Well, Figgins said he needed someone, and I'm happy to help out," Blaine says with a genuine smile.

"Listen here, gel helmet," Sue says pointing a sharp finger into Blaine's chest. "I didn't spend the last two years trying to get rid of that clown Will Schuester to have you swoop in and ruin my master plan for total high school dominance."

"What?" Blaine's face is screwed up in confusion and he's not really sure what Sue is talking about. He tries to back away from her as much as he can, but she just pushes forward, backing him into a row of lockers and looming over him.

"You're on my list, short stack."

Understanding dawns on Blaine's face.

"Wait, did you get Will fired?" Blaine asks.

Sue grins broadly, but it does little to reassure Blaine. Something about her smile is menacing and cold.

"You're not as dumb as you look," Sue says, raising an eyebrow. "Although, that's not saying much."

Blaine ignores the dig and presses on. He needs to know just exactly what her role was in the whole fiasco. He'd heard from other teachers what had happened, and like everyone else, he just assumed that Will Schuester had finally broken down over the stress from the job. Just like Sandy Ryerson before him.

"So, he didn't proposition that student in the bathroom?"

"No, gay Gene Kelly, I made up that story about Will Schuester being a first-class pedophile because he loaded my confetti cannons with Jell-O. No one messes with my flair and gets away with it."

It finally hits Blaine what Figgins had said about staying under the radar. Up until this point, Sue had no interest in speaking to, or even looking at, Blaine. But now she apparently has a personal vendetta against him thanks to her insane and somewhat over-enthusiastic hatred of glee club. One that could very well get him fired from his first teaching job.

He swallows heavily and tries to speak. Sue interrupts.

"I'm watching you, Anderson. Put one toe on your oversized Hobbit feet out of line and I'll be on you like Britney on a Frappuccino." She reaches forward and flicks Blaine's bow tie before turning to head back in the direction she came, shoving a terrified looking freshman into a row of lockers.

Blaine takes a deep breath and heads to his classroom. What has he gotten himself into?

Kurt bites his knuckle to keep himself from squealing. Did he hear that right? Coach Sylvester got Mr. Schue fired, and now she's after Mr. Anderson? The same Mr. Anderson she just called gay Gene Kelly? Gay. The word rings in Kurt's ears as he feels the guilt of believing the rumors about Mr. Schue wash over him.

The whole thing is a lot to take in, but the realization that Mr. Anderson might be gay is what sticks with him. He doesn't even want to stop to consider what that means about him or the fact that he's now going to be seeing Mr. Anderson twice a day instead of just once. And he'll be spending a lot of time with him outside of class thanks to glee rehearsals.

Kurt isn't sure how he feels about that, but the swooping feeling in his stomach would suggest nerves. What is he nervous about? He drops his head back against his locker and pushes off as he sees Mercedes approaching.

"Nice boots," she says. "How do you always pull that off? I feel like whenever I wear boots my legs shrink by like five inches."

"I guess I'm just blessed with these gangly limbs," Kurt says with his usual trademark mix of confidence and self-deprecation. He turns to follow Mercedes to their next class.

"Any idea what glee practice is going to be like today?" she asks.

"No, but I heard the Warblers have a council that decides solos. Can you imagine? I kind of hope he institutes something like that so we don't have to listen to Rachel wax poetic about her solos every week. There's no way the entire group would vote in her favor all the time."

"It sounds so rigid, though. Not really our style."

"Maybe not, but you have to admit Mr. Schue's method was kind of a free-for-all," Kurt says.

"Oh, god…all those awful themes," Mercedes muses. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss him."

"Me too," Kurt agrees. "But Mr. Anderson is pretty cool."

"And cute." Mercedes nudges Kurt with her shoulder and grins at him.

"That's entirely beside the point," Kurt says. He adds an eye roll and a pointed look that only serve to send Mercedes into a fit of giggles that lasts until they walk into their third period history class.

Mr. Anderson's approach to glee turns out to be much different than either what Mr. Schue had done or the Warblers council, and somehow it also feels exactly the same. Mr. Anderson was fidgety and awkward, and he stumbled over his words as he introduced himself to the group.

Kurt found it utterly adorable.

And then he sang. Not only did he sing; he also jumped on the piano and danced around the room like an excited kid. Kurt might have lost feeling in his feet at that point, a permanent-ish grin, plastered to his face.

"Whoa, Mr. A," Finn says. "I didn't figure you for a Pink fan. But that was kinda cool."

"Thanks, Finn," Mr. Anderson says, still slightly out of breath.

"Mr. Anderson," Rachel begins. "Do you really think top 40 is the best way to showcase my unique talents? I was thinking we do a medley of Broadway standards, interspersed with some particularly emotional ballads. In fact, I have a list…"

"Can it, Hobbit," Santana says. "We have a new clueless teacher in charge. Maybe he doesn't want to rely on your solo hogging and force the rest of us into doo-wopping back up drones. Right?" She looks pointedly at Mr. Anderson.

"Well, um….I…"

"Back off, Satan. It's his first day," Kurt says. He turns to smile apologetically at Mr. Anderson and urges him to continue.

"Thank you, Kurt." He gives Kurt a grateful smile. "And Santana, I was hoping to hear everyone sing today so I can get an idea of who's best suited for what parts. Everyone," he says, looking around the room, "will get a chance at a solo."

"Finally," Mercedes says. "Someone who recognizes there's more than one diva in this room." She and Kurt exchange excited glances.

Tina raises her hand politely.

"Yes, Tina?"

"Do we all have to sing today, or can we prepare something?"

"I'd like everyone to sing today," Mr. Anderson says. "Something we all know…that way everyone is on the same page. How about Happy Birthday? Sound fair?"

Nearly everyone nods enthusiastically.

Rachel, as expected, goes first. She belts out the whole thing and pours her signature angst into it. Finn follows her, giving a gritty, yet slightly pitchy, performance. Puck adds guitar and a bit of head banging. Brittany sings something else entirely, and when Mr. Anderson questions her, she shrugs and says, "That's what we sing at my house for birthdays." He smiles at her and asks Artie to go next. His rendition sounds uncannily like Michael Jackson.

When Artie finishes, Mr. Anderson turns to Kurt and smiles brightly. "Why don't you go next, Kurt."

Kurt feels his palms begin to sweat and his usual pre-performance butterflies are more excited than usual, but he stands and walks to the front of the room looking the picture of decorum. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and begins to sing. When Kurt opens them again, he first keeps his gaze locked firmly on the floor, unsure if he wants to see Mr. Anderson's reaction or not. Kurt is never quite sure how someone will react to his unique voice. He finally gets the courage to look up and he quickly seeks out Mercedes. She's smiling back at him and it gives him confidence. He chances a glance at his teacher and what he sees nearly takes his breath away.

Mr. Anderson is sitting perfectly straight, practically on the edge of his chair. He is staring at Kurt with his mouth open, trapped somewhere between shock and awe. His hazel eyes are shining as Kurt holds the last note, refusing to look away.

When light applause erupts around the room, Mr. Anderson seems to shake himself back to reality.

"Wow…" he says. "Kurt, you have a very unique voice." Mr. Anderson's eyes seem to bore into Kurt and it has him rooted to the ground.

"Thanks," Kurt says, his voice nearly a whisper. He swallows heavily and can't manage to break eye contact. He can feel a heated flush begin to color his face, and he wonders if it's possible to die of embarrassment and pride all at once.

"No really…it's outstanding," Mr. Anderson adds. "Just…wow." He grins from ear to ear and holds Kurt's gaze for a moment.

"It really was great, Kurt," Mercedes says, glancing quickly between their teacher and her friend. She's not sure what's going on, but she, and everyone else, can feel the awkward tension in the room.

"Well, if you're all done wanking over Hummel's lady voice," Santana interrupts. "Some of us still have to sing."

"Yes, Santana," Mr. Anderson says, blinking several times and clearing his throat. "Why don't you go next."

The cheerleader walks to the front of the room and gives a flawless, sultry performance.

The rest of glee passes uneventfully, with each member of New Directions belting out "Happy Birthday" in turn, but none gets the reaction Kurt did.

As everyone packs up and leaves the room, Kurt is shocked to realize he's alone with Mr. Anderson. He busies himself with his bag and tries to look calm.

"You didn't tell me you're a countertenor," Mr. Anderson says to Kurt from across the room.

"I'm never sure how anyone is going to take that," he says. "It's kind of a double-edged sword."

"It's stunning," Mr. Anderson says, walking toward where Kurt is standing. "You shouldn't worry about what others think. You have a talent. Don't waste it."

Kurt can't help but smile at that. Genuine compliments don't come his way often. He's so used to ridicule and contempt, it feels good to be admired for something that is such a deep part of him.

"Do they give lessons in inflating your students' egos in college?" Kurt asks, putting some papers in his bag.

Mr. Anderson's laughter is bright and echoes through the room.

"You need to learn to take a compliment."

"Probably," Kurt says, looking up. "Although, until today I wasn't sure what they looked like." And he smiles.

Mr. Anderson smiles back, and something inside Kurt shifts. He feels a tug from deep within him. That's the only way to describe it really. It feels as if something is physically pulling him closer to Mr. Anderson, and from the look on the teacher's face, he can feel it too. Mr. Anderson leans almost imperceptibly closer and opens his mouth as if he is searching for words. Kurt hears himself take a sharp inhale of breath and Mr. Anderson freezes.

"I should probably go," Kurt says, breaking the silence. Although, later he will kick himself for ruining the moment like that.

"Oh…right," Mr. Anderson says. "Of course. It's getting late." He looks at his watch, worn curiously on his right wrist. "I think we may have run a little over."

"That's alright," Kurt says. "Mr. Schue always kept us late. My dad will think I'm home early."

"That's good," Mr. Anderson says, suddenly looking very shy and a bit uncomfortable. His hands are in his pockets and he looks to be concentrating on the pattern of the tile floor.

"See you tomorrow in English then?" Kurt says, taking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "I know I can't wait to tackle Henry James."

Mr. Anderson sputters a little and lets out a choked laugh.

"I mean…" Kurt says, realizing what he said. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Anderson says, trying to stifle his laughter.

Kurt shuffles on the spot and plays with the strap on his bag. "Well, um…I should go."

"See you."

Kurt walks slowly toward the door, hoping he'll find something else to say to keep himself in the room with his gorgeous teacher for just a few more moments. Instead, it's Mr. Anderson who finds his words first.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

Kurt turns and faces him. Mr. Anderson smiles warmly and it makes Kurt go weak at the knees in a way he's never felt before. Not when he had that misguided crush on Finn or even when he mistakenly assumed Sam was gay. This is what it feels like to have a deep and profound desire for someone. He's both thrilled and terrified. He forces his mouth into what he hopes is a friendly smile and raises an eyebrow at Mr. Anderson's question.

"I meant what I said. Your voice is one-of-a-kind. We should nurture that…maybe some extra rehearsal," he says. "I mean, if you want…"

"Really?" Kurt's face lights up. Now he knows he's smiling. "That would be great! I'd really like to work on some of my high notes. There are a few pieces I can't quite do because the big emotional notes are just out of my range."

"Sure. We can talk about it tomorrow," Mr. Anderson says, suddenly unable or unwilling to make eye contact. "Have a good night, Kurt."

"You too, Mr. Anderson…and thanks!" he calls out. He practically skips down the hallway and through the parking lot to his car.

Blaine slumps down on the piano bench and drops his head in his hands.

He'd just offered Kurt Hummel private lessons. Kurt, who had just quite literally stopped Blaine's breath with his singing and who looked unfairly delicious in his snug-fitting jeans and vest. This is definitely not good.

What was I thinking?

The next morning, Blaine is greeted outside his classroom by a beaming Kurt, who thrusts a steaming paper cup of coffee in his face as he trills, "Good morning."

Blaine can't help but smile back at his pupil, taking in the glorious aroma of the coffee in Kurt's hands.

"For me?" he asks.

"It's just drip with a couple packets of sugar," Kurt says with a shrug. "I remembered from the coffee shop the other day. I hope that's your usual." He says it as if it's the most natural thing in the world, and maybe for him it is. But Blaine makes a secret wish that Kurt was just a bit older and not a high school student. Anyone who can remember his coffee order can have his heart any day of the week, especially if it's before 8 a.m.

"You just saved me from the horrific fate of consuming the teachers' lounge coffee," Blaine says. He takes a long pull on the coffee and hums contentedly. "Thanks."

He licks his lips and watches as Kurt does the same. It's mesmerizing, really, watching his small, pink tongue dart out and graze his top lip slowly. His mouth falls open slightly as he does so and he captures his bottom lip between his teeth before closing it again. Blaine realizes he's staring just as Kurt speaks.

"That's me, a regular Knight in Shining Coffee," he says, tossing his head back slightly and laughing.

Blaine wonders how he can be so calm when there's obviously tension between the two of them. He doesn't remember being that smooth at what…17…18? Wait, how old is Kurt? Blaine looks him up and down, contemplating it for a moment and then remembering it's his turn to speak, and they're standing awkwardly in the hallway outside his classroom, checking each other out.

"So, did you give any thought to when we could do your extra rehearsal time?" Blaine asks, opening the door and gesturing for Kurt to walk inside. It's the first thing he can think of to get his mind off of Kurt's long legs and graceful walk as he enters the room.

"Actually," Kurt begins, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet and turning to face Blaine. "That's why I'm here so early. I was thinking we could do this before school in the mornings. We both seem to like to get a jump on the day anyway. What do you think?"

Blaine sets his coffee on the desk and pulls his bag over his shoulder, laying it next to the paper cup. He's definitely not a morning person, but the truth is, it's probably the only time he has to spare during the day. He uses his free period to prep his classes and his lunch is only 20 minutes. With glee taking up his afternoons, he has to use every spare minute of his evenings to grade. And weekends would just look suspicious.

"Sure," he says. "Tuesdays and Thursdays sound good?" He looks at his watch. "Today's out of the question, but we could get started later this week."

"Great!" Kurt beams at him. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Me too," Blaine says with a returned smile. And he means it. For all his trepidation at being alone with Kurt, he's really excited at the prospect of helping Kurt to improve his exquisite voice. Suddenly a thought occurs to him. "Did you have an idea of a piece you wanted to work on, or would you like me to pick something?"

"Oh, I have a list a mile long," Kurt says. "But I'm always open to suggestion. Did you have something in mind?"

Blaine is pretty sure his brain short circuits with that because his list is a mile long too, but it's filled with things that Kurt has probably never even considered in his wildest dreams. And they're definitely not songs.

"Mr. Anderson, are you alright?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head to clear his thoughts, as if his brain were an Etch-a-Sketch and that would clear the positively sinful ideas that were now occupying his mind.

"Yes…I mean...I have some ideas." He clears his throat. "Yes. I'll bring the music with me on Thursday."

"I can't wait," Kurt says. "Mr. Schue never really paid attention to anyone but Rachel and Finn. Well, at least when it came to singing. He was all up in our business otherwise."

"Sounds like he meant well," Blaine says, trying to remain diplomatic.

"Oh he did," Kurt says. "Don't get me wrong. It's just ….well, I don't think he ever really got me."

"Why do you say that, Kurt?"

Blaine wonders how Will Schuester could have missed all the wonderful things he sees in Kurt and why he would have focused so much of his time and energy on Finn. The kid is a good singer, and seems to be a decent guy, but Kurt is exquisite. And unique. And Finn's just, well…average.

"Mr. Anderson, I hope this doesn't make you feel differently about helping me out, but you'll find out eventually. The whole school knows anyway."

Kurt swallows heavily and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath that pulls his shoulders closer to his ears, and when he exhales his words come out in a breathy rush, "I'm gay." He opens his eyes and waits for Blaine's response.

Blaine almost laughs with delight, but catches himself just in time. He doesn't want Kurt to think he's laughing at him. He knows how hard it can be to tell an adult (oh dear god, he's an adult isn't he?) that you're gay. Before he can speak, Kurt is looking at his feet and rambling.

"I totally understand if you don't want to coach me privately after that. It's just I wanted you to hear it from me first. I didn't want you to think I was coming on to you or something. Not that there's anything wrong with you, but you're my teacher and I don't think….well, considering the circumstances…"

"Kurt…Kurt!"

Watery blue-green eyes look up to meet Blaine's. The vulnerability there is heartbreaking. What on earth had this gorgeous creature been through to make him so skittish about being viewed as predatory? It's probably that thought more than anything else that makes Blaine toss aside his teacher persona for a moment to just be Kurt's friend. If only he'd had a teacher brave enough to help him through his high school years, maybe things would have gone a bit differently for him. He places a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, I'm gay too."

The look on Kurt's face is a mixture of shock and relief. "You are?"

"I am," he says nodding. "So there's nothing to worry about. I get it. I really, really get it. And Kurt, you shouldn't have to apologize for it."

Kurt smiles. It's different from the beaming excitement or shy, flirtatious smiles he's used to seeing on the boy's face. This smile seems to radiate off him in waves, and Blaine feels it all the way in his toes. This smile is one he probably saves for only those closest to him, and Blaine cherishes it.

Just then the bell rings, pulling them both out of the moment. Blaine drops his hand from Kurt's shoulder and rubs it against his thigh, trying to quell the tingling sensation in his palm.

"We'll talk more later," Blaine says.

Kurt just nods slowly and takes his seat. He seems distracted for the rest of the period and doesn't say goodbye when he leaves after the class is over.

Blaine worries he's overstepped some boundary for the rest of the day.