The three of us huddle together in my fathers study, sliding the window almost shut so that my parents wont feel a cold draft in the parlor. Once were all wearing our big fuzzy slippers, we disperse to search the room. Theres no sign of the cell phone. I check my dads desk drawer just in case, but its not there.

Puck lifts up his hands, miming walking with his fingers, then pretending to eat a sandwich. I look over at Kurt, who is twisting his lips, trying not to laugh. Kitchen? I mouth, and Puck shrugs and nods, disappointed that his sign language isnt catching on.

I go first, tiptoeing into the hallway and listening to my mother telling Quinn about their very handsome and eligible son, Blaine. Kurt waggles his eyebrows at me and I grin before heading into the kitchen. The counter is unusually cluttered — Mom must have hurried to get the cookies and tea prepared — so it takes a few minutes to check the room for the phone. Im nearly finished searching when I hear a frantic rustling sound. I look up, and Kurt is pulling Puck away from the counter, just as Puck is shoveling more butterscotch cookies into his mouth. I lean against the island, laughing silently at them both. When Kurt looks over at me, I mouth Criminal? He just rolls his eyes and urges Puck toward the dining room.

I watch them go, amused. And I wait. Because if the cell phone is not in the study or the kitchen, I know it must be upstairs. Theres no reason for my parents to have left it in the dining room or the living room. As I suspected, Kurt and Puck return to the kitchen shortly, and I gesture toward the stairs silently. Kurt turns and gives a significant look to Puck, who nods and heads back to the study.

I can hear my mothers voice from the parlor as Kurt and I creep toward the stairs. "So tell me, Penelope," she says, "after all this time, why did you choose to reestablish a relationship with your grandmother now? If I may be so bold as to ask?"

Theres a long pause, and Kurt and I lock eyes, waiting nervously.

"I left home," she says at last. "I finally decided that enough was enough, and that my parents treatment of me was unacceptable."

An audible gasp comes from my mother, and in my mind I can see her leaning forward, eager for details. "What did they do?"

"They never accepted the fact that Im gay."

If I thought the last pause was long, then this one seems interminable. I look at Kurt, mouthing, Quinns gay? He shakes his head in response, looking as confused as I am.

"Dont get me wrong, my parents love me," Quinn continues. "Im their only child, and theyve given me every material item I could ever want. All Ive ever really wanted, though, was their acceptance. I was tired of my mothers suggestions that it was a phase, and my fathers coldness toward my girlfriend."

"Well..." Moms voice sounds shaken. "Certainly, they must have needed time to adjust."

"I came out to them over a year ago. And the signs were there much earlier, if theyd thought to look. Anyway, one day it just got to be too much, and I left. I called up Grandmother and told her everything. She was terribly upset, and said that shed raised her daughter better than that. She invited me to come live with her, and... here we are."

Kurt is beckoning to me, gesturing to the stairs. As much as I want to stay and hear my parents response to Quinn, hes right. Time is slipping away. We climb the stairs together slowly, careful to avoid the squeaky steps. Once weve reached the second floor, I head to my bedroom first. The bedside lamp is on, illuminating my cell phone where it sits on the nightstand. Triumphantly, I tiptoe across the room and grab it, spinning around to show Kurt.

Hes not looking at me, though. Hes standing just inside the doorway, gazing at the room sadly. I look around, trying to figure out whats upsetting him, before making my way back to him. "Kurt?" I whisper. "Are you all right?"

He smiles weakly. "Im fine. Its just... there are a lot of memories in this room." His cheeks flush as he looks at the bed, and I draw a breath.

"Oh. Did we... here?"

"Our first time," he says softly. Then he adds, "And other times, too, but the first time is just... well, you know."

"I dont, actually."

He sighs. "Right. Oh, hey, you found your phone."

"I did."

"Thats good." He doesnt sound terribly excited, so I have to ask.

"Tonight wasnt about the phone, was it?"

"No," he admits. "Not really. Although I did miss texting with you."

"So why the big production?"

He makes his way over to the bed, sitting down with a shrug. "When you and I were together, we used to go get coffee at the Lima Bean almost every day. Wed hang out at my house, and wed spend a lot of time at Robs apartment."

"And?"

"Dont you see?" He looks up at me searchingly. "Now its the second time around, and were back in all our old haunts, and... I just want to make sure that if I end up falling for you, that Im falling for you — not who you used to be."

"I dont understand. Youre trying to take me out of our old settings? But didnt you just say that we... spent time together here, too?" I ask, blushing a little.

"Its not about the setting as much as its about the memories."

"But I dont have any memories of you here."

"Right. Thats why I was trying to create a new one."

A warmth blooms in my chest as I look at him. Hes tried to play tonight off like a Mission Impossible movie, but try as he might, hes still just a silly romantic. "You wanted this to be a bonding experience." He tilts his head in acknowledgement. "You totally got this whole breaking-and-entering idea from a movie, didnt you."

"No," he says, a little too quickly.

"Did so."

"I did not." I squint at him hard, until he mumbles, "I got it from an old Nancy Drew book of my moms."

I look up at the ceiling, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. "Youre adorable."

"Stop making fun of me." Hes pouting, sticking out his lower lip in the most alluring way.

I take a step toward him, and he inhales sharply. "Kurt…"

"Blaine?"

"Im going to kiss you now."

His mouth falls open. "Youre going—"

"To kiss you now." Its all I can think about. Hes so damned beautiful, theres no way I can spend another moment without touching him. "Unless you want me to stop."

"No," he whispers. "I dont want you to stop."

"Thank god." I take another step, and—

The floorboard under my foot gives a loud creak.

Oh, shit.

I step back at once, and it creaks again.

We both freeze. Kurt looks as terrified as I feel. We dont even breathe as we listen, hoping no one downstairs noticed the sound. But Ive never been that lucky. Slowly, my dads voice grows louder.

"I swear I heard something," hes saying, and I can hear him approaching the stairs.

"Wait!" Quinn calls out, sounding panicked. "I still need to tell you secrets about my family... My grandmother had my mother out of wedlock!"

Mom adds, "Harold, you cant leave. Were in the middle of a conversation."

"Look, Ill be right back," Dad says. "I just want to check upstairs and make sure everythings all right."

I turn and gape at Kurt. "What do we do?" I whisper nervously.

His eyes are wide, his mouth set in a grim line. "Does Anna still do the laundry on Mondays?" It doesnt register at first, what hes asking, because Im fixating on the slow, heavy footfalls of my father heading up the stairs. "Blaine, focus. Does Anna still do the laundry on Mondays?"

"What? Um... Mondays, yeah."

He stands and grabs my hand, dragging me over to my bathroom. We step on two more squeaky floorboards in our haste, and I can hear my dad speed up as he mounts the stairs. Kurt closes the bathroom door quietly behind us, then turns to me, breathing shallowly. "Wait to see if Im okay before you go."

"Go where?"

"Pucks waiting outside in case he needs to pull us out."

"But wait, go where?"

He doesnt answer. He just backs up to the laundry chute in the wall of my bathroom, squeezes his eyes closed nervously, and drops out of sight. I dart over in horror, trying to look down the dark chute. What if Anna did the laundry early this week? What if there arent any piles of clothes to cushion Kurts fall?

"Go!" comes a whisper from below, just as I hear Dad reach my bedroom doorway. And then theres no time to think, no time to hesitate, no time for anything, and Im free-falling down a laundry chute like some absurd version of Alice in Wonderland. I land with my face in one of my dads old undershirts, dazed, trying to picture Kurt as the White Rabbit, and hes tugging at my arm. "Come on!" he breathes harshly.

I scramble to my feet and climb out of the laundry bin, following him toward the set of windows near the rose bushes. I can just barely make out the shadows of Pucks boots as he paces back and forth outside. He crouches down when he sees Kurt push one of the windows open.

"You first," Kurt whispers.

"Me? No, you first."

"You wont be able to reach the window unless I give you a boost," he insists. Before I can argue, he leans down to grab me around the thighs, and lifts me up toward the open window. Puck reaches in and grabs my outstretched arms, pulling me out into the snow. He goes back for Kurt, and I take a little solace in the fact that Kurt has to jump a little to reach Pucks grasp.

"Lets go," Puck whispers once weve closed the basement window. The three of us hunch over, racing toward the street. Kurt keeps sliding across the snow-covered driveway until he realizes hes forgotten to take the house slippers off. Im laughing so hard at him I cant even breathe.

We reach Pucks car quickly. He pops open the trunk and pulls out a set of generic mechanics coveralls, slipping them on over his clothes. "Ill be back," he says, grabbing Quinns spare key and jogging over to her car.

I turn to Kurt, and hes got his head turned up toward the stars, laughing silently. "I cant believe you almost got us caught," he says.

"Me? Youre the one who almost wiped out on the snow back there."

"Well, youre the one who wanted to take a nap in the laundry bin."

"Youre the one who took burglary tips from a Nancy Drew book."

Were both laughing now, our breaths making clouds in the cold air. "Yeah, well, youre—"

He doesnt get to finish that thought, as I lean in and kiss him. God, were kissing, and its everything I ever wanted. His lips are even softer than they look — does he moisturize them? Is that it? — but his kisses are firm, confident. Hes done this before, countless times, and I hope Im not too inexperienced for him. I wrap my arms around his waist, and his hands curl behind my neck, his fingernails scratching lightly against my scalp. He breathes out through his mouth shakily, and I steal the breath from him, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Blaine," he murmurs. "We should get in the car. People might see us."

I want to argue with him, but hes right — the OTooles wouldnt hesitate to call the police over two boys kissing in public. Kurt yanks open the door to the back seat and I dive in, reaching up for him. In an instant hes there, looming over me. He leans down and licks my bottom lip, which should be weird but is unbearably hot. He whimpers and does it again, and again.

Hes tasting me.

God.

I grab the back of his head and pull him down hard, opening my mouth and letting our tongues touch tentatively. Its like I gave a signal without even realizing it. Suddenly hes lying fully on top of me, his tongue making probing swipes through my mouth, his hands rubbing across my chest, his thigh pressing hard between my legs. Im just trying to keep up, hoping that my eagerness will overcome my lack of skill. His hands travel back up to my head, cradling it gently as he cards his fingers through my hair.

The frenzy fades after a minute, and were kissing slowly, languidly. I wonder how many times we did this in the past. Im envious that Kurt must remember them all, because this? This is heaven.

He pulls back after a car goes by, and breathes shakily. "Were not supposed to be doing this yet."

"Why not?" I whine, seeking out his mouth again. He leans away, just out of my reach.

"We made a deal, remember?"

"Yeah, that wed try dating again. Dont people kiss when they date?"

"Blaine..."

"I mean, granted, most of my knowledge about dating comes from watching the CW, but still—"

He laughs, leaning back down to kiss a path along the side of my neck. "Youre not supposed to be putting all your eggs in one basket," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to lick behind my ear. "Youre supposed to date other people, too."

"I am, though."

"You are what?"

"Dating other people."

"What?"

"I have a date with a guy tomorrow night. So see? I am following the deal." I smile broadly, waiting for him to resume kissing me, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, looking down at me inscrutably.

"You have a date."

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow night."

"Yes. Now, can we get back to—"

"We made our deal, like, twelve hours ago. And you already have a date?" Hes irritated, I realize. How can he be irritated, when Im following the rules he made?

"You told me to go out with other people," I remind him defensively.

"I know I did."

"If youve changed your mind, then say so. Ill call the guy and cancel our—" I stop, sighing. "Wait, no. I dont have his number. But I just wont go. Say the word, and the deals off."

"No." He shakes his head. "No, you should go. On your date. With the guy. Thats the whole point of the deal." He sits up, looking very young, suddenly. "Its been a while since Puck left. I wonder if everythings going okay."

"Kurt—"

"Dont," he says quickly. "Im trying to do whats right, here. Please, just... just dont."

Sighing, I sit up too. I dont know what to say. I dont want to go out with Sebastian. I want to pull Kurt back on top of me and make out with him for the next hour, or day, or rest of my life. Why is he making this so difficult?

Puck finally comes back to the car, flicking us a thumbs-up as he starts the engine and pulls away from the curb. On the drive back to Robs apartment, he regales us with the details of how skillfully he impersonated a mechanic, and how Kurts dad should really hire him, because he was that convincing. Kurt doesnt reply. Hes looking out his window, and even though were sitting side by side, its like I can feel him slipping away from me.

We pull up outside the building. I dont make a move to get out, because Im still waiting for something, anything, from Kurt.

He finally looks over at me. "Are we still on for the Lima Bean tomorrow morning?" he asks hoarsely.

"Of course were still on. Itll be the highlight of my whole day."

He smiles a little, and I lean in to kiss his cheek. He lets me, which is something, I guess.

I get out of the car and wander back to Robs apartment, feeling lost. How did I manage to mess this up?

Fifteen minutes later, while Im preparing a cup of tea, my cell phone dings with a new text message. I dart over in relief, anxious to see what Kurt has written, but to my surprise, its a message from my father: No need for the charade, Blaine, we would have left the cell outside if you didnt want to see us. I hope youre all right. We love you.

I lay in bed for a long time, the familiar tickle of insomnia keeping me awake. Finally I wander out into the living room, curling up on the couch with my face pressed into Kurts pillow, his quilt from last night covering me. Im surrounded by Kurt as I lie here alone.

Sleep doesnt come.