Every day Burt was feeling a little bit better. There were no huge jumps in his recovery, and there were small setbacks such as when they had to adjust his medication, but on the whole, Burt was making progress and his prospects for going home were getting closer. Kurt had been there to visit almost every day, usually with his new friend, Blaine, in tow. Burt liked Blaine. He was a nice kid, good manners and he seemed to care a lot about Kurt. And, really, that was the only thing Burt cared about.

There was still something dark and brooding in Kurt, something that Burt couldn't get a handle on, but repeated questioning was not getting him anywhere. When the boys came to visit, he asked Kurt to go get him a newspaper – knowing full well that he'd have to go down the street to the vendor because the hospital gift shop was closed.

As soon as he left, Burt turned to Blaine.

“What's wrong with Kurt?”

“Sir?” Blaine asked.

“Don't 'Sir' me. What's wrong with my son? I know something is bothering him, but he won't tell me,” Burt said, looking sad and lost.

“Mr Hummel, I know that Kurt was very much affected by your heart attack. I didn't even meet him until the day before you woke up, so he was, as far as I know, alone for the weeks you were in a coma. Further than that, I can't say. I know you'll understand that anything Kurt has told me was said in confidence. He's still staying with us and I see that he's eating again. But, did I notice that he is depressed? Yes. I have suggested he go see someone, but he is reluctant with you in the hospital,” Blaine said, not willing to sweep this under the rug, but also not willing to disclose anything Kurt told him in confidence.

“Okay, kid. I'll talk to him. Our insurance will cover that, no problem. Thank you for being straight with me. I may be sick, but I'm neither stupid or a baby. Not even senile yet. But, seriously – can you just call me BURT. I always look behind me for my grandpa when someone says 'Mr Hummel',” he said with a laugh. Blaine smiled at him.

“So, he is eating?” Burt asked. “He was just skin and bones when he came that first night.”

“My brother is an excellent cook, Mr Hummel,” Blaine said. “Now you're on the road to recovery, Kurt's appetite has come back.”

“Maybe I'll come stay at your house, too, then because the food here is awful. All that low-fat, no-salt tasteless stuff. And you can bet Kurt's going to be cooking that for me when he gets me home, too. He's been trying to get me to eat that rabbit food for years, now he has a reason to,” Burt grumbled.

“Maybe you should have listened to him,” Blaine said gently, patting the man's hand.

“Yeah, I should have,” Burt conceded.

Kurt breezed back in to the room, newspaper in hand, and sat down next to his dad's bed.

“What's up?” he asked, looking at the sad faces of his father and friend.

“Kurt, your dad is concerned about you. I told him that what you have shared with me is in confidence, but that I am concerned, too. I also told him I had encouraged you to seek a counselor, which he tells me your insurance will cover. So, there it all is out in the open. I don't believe in having secret discussions behind someone's back – not that I'm implying you did, Mr Hummel, but I think Kurt should know we have both noticed you're depressed and we care, Kurt.”

“Well, you sure don't sugar-coat anything, do you, Anderson?” Kurt snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

Burt smiled a little at his stubborn son. “No, Kurt, he apparently doesn't. And I'm glad of that. At least we have it out on the table now. So, you call tomorrow and make an appointment and we'll get this taken care of. Okay? I'll feel better, Blaine will feel better, and you will feel better. End of discussion.”

“I guess I don't have a choice, do I?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. “Well, I guess we're on our way, then. I have homework to get done. I'll see you tomorrow, Dad,” Kurt said, hugging him and turning to pick up his messenger bag.

Out at the car, Kurt slid in his seat and waited for Blaine to get in.

“What the hell was that, Anderson?” Kurt spat at him as he eased himself into the driver's seat.

“Your dad asked me what was up with you, Kurt. I couldn't tell him about the bridge, but he was really concerned – so I told him I had noticed you were depressed. We've talked about it, Kurt. I sincerely believe you need to talk to someone. I hope you don't mind that I spoke to your dad, but he brought it up,” Blaine said, worry wrinkling his forehead as he looked Kurt in the eyes, hoping for understanding. “Shit, Kurt, it's only because I care.”

Kurt broke the stare and gazed out the window. He did care that Blaine was talking about him to his dad, but it seemed it was only to say they were worried. Well, he could cut Blaine some slack over that – he did scare the guy the night on the bridge.

“Okay, Blaine. It's okay. Do you have some list of people I might see? I don't even know who to talk to to get this started and the guidance counselor at my school is kind of useless,” Kurt said, looking back at Blaine.

“Of course, I can get you several names, all anonymously. I'll have them for you tomorrow,” Blaine assured his friend. Then he held out his hand, waiting for Kurt to take it.

“Thank you, Blaine. I may not show it, but I do appreciate you and all you've done,” and he took Blaine's hand and held it tight for a moment before letting it go so Blaine could start the car. They went home to Blaine's house, singing along with the radio and giving each other small smiles.

~*~*~*~*~

Friday night, and the boys were at the Anderson house, having gone by Kurt's to get some things and check on mail and everything.

“Whoa! What smells so delicious?” Cooper said, taking off his coat as he entered the kitchen.

“It's Kurt's turn to cook, ask him,” Blaine said, consumed with his homework at the dining table, typing into his laptop and not paying particular attention to anything else around him.

“It's roast duck with pomegranate molasses, snow pea pods with mushrooms, and wild rice. I just threw it together, you know.” Kurt laughed. Blaine laughed, too, knowing how many hours it had taken Kurt to make the dinner.

Cooper set the table, opened a bottle of wine, and put glasses of water at each place. In less than an hour, everyone was seated at the table, happily conversing as they ate the delicious food. Coop smiled at Kurt, “Would you please marry me, Kurt?”

“What?” Kurt sputtered, eyes open wide. Although neither of the other two diners saw, Blaine paled and his mouth fell open. He recovered quickly, before anyone noticed and forced himself to laugh at Cooper's joke. Wow, where did that emotion come from? Blaine asked himself. Was that jealousy? He was just friends with Kurt, they shared some similar experiences. So, why was he so quick to get upset at an innocent joke?

“Earth to Blaine!” Cooper said, “Hey, Squirt, where's your head? Kurt asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess my mind is still on the homework,” Blaine said, turning to Kurt.

“Nothing important, just wondering if you liked the snow peas,” Kurt told him, smiling.

“Wonderful, Kurt. The whole meal is wonderful,” Blaine smiled into Kurt's face. Cooper looked at the two boys, a look of wonder on his face, there was more here than the two were admitting to.

~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, Blaine came to bed after his shower, his hair damp with the curls springing all over his head. Kurt smiled, glad he hadn't taken the time to put any gel or other product in his hair. He began to think: why would it matter how Blaine did his hair? He had been thinking more and more about Blaine, finding himself watching as Blaine walked down the hall – admiring the taught muscles under the soft fabric. He thought about Blaine's sparkling eyes, that golden hazel with the little bits of moss green that made them look like water in a mountain stream. He closed his eyes, and the picture in his mind of Blaine's smile, those beautiful cupid's bow lips, the dusting of soft hair on his chest, his knees that were slightly dimpled – he thought about Blaine all the time.

Kurt was still sleeping in Blaine's bed. Very platonic. But it didn't stop his brain from going into overdrive when Blaine would do something like sigh in his sleep and sound like he was enjoying himself. As much as Kurt liked looking at Blaine, it was the sounds Blaine made that made his heart beat harder in his chest. His voice had a timbre in it that vibrated with Kurt's own, and it came out when they sang together, so Kurt took every opportunity to sing along with the radio when he was with Blaine. He had even made a songlist on his iPod made up of songs that Kurt knew their voices blended and contrasted with the best, and he played it whenever they were in the car together.

And the way Blaine smelled! At night, when they were cuddled together, Kurt took every opportunity to bury his nose in Blaine's neck. He smelled like vanilla cookies. Kurt couldn't figure out why, it made no sense. But somehow in the combination of sweat and facial products, scents that clung to Blaine in his everyday life – there was an underlying scent of vanilla and it drove Kurt wild to smell it. He could never eat a vanilla cookie ever again without thinking of Blaine.

Burt would be coming home soon, probably less than two weeks, and that was such a double-edged sword. Kurt loved his dad and wanted him home where he belonged. He missed him, to the point it was still a burning ache to think of their house as being empty; but that was tempered with the joy that bubbled in Kurt's veins that his dad would be home again, would still be with him each and every day. He would wake up every morning to fix his dad breakfast. It was so good to think about it.

But, on the other hand, he would miss being with Blaine. He'd miss all the meals with the Anderson brothers, Cooper reading things from the newspaper out loud as he and Blaine poured chocolate syrup on the pancakes Cooper had made for the meal. There were a hundred little things that made up each day with the Anderson's that Kurt would miss. But most of all, he would miss sleeping in the same bed as Blaine. He had needed a port in the storm the first night, he was so broken and Blaine had known how to hold all the pieces together until Kurt could heal himself, and Blaine asked for nothing in return. It was warm comfort that Kurt had been craving for a long time -maybe even years. Since his mother had died, his dad had done his best – he had held Kurt, never letting anything come between the touch he knew Kurt needed so much. But the comfort he gained from Burt was different than what he'd gotten from his mother somehow. Not less, just different. And for some reason, Blaine seemed to be able to provide that missing piece to him, which was a puzzle and a wonder at the same time.

Blaine stretched and yawned, turning to Kurt, “Do you want the light on tonight?”

“No, I'm doing okay, but thank you,” Kurt replied. He hadn't had a nightmare for two nights now, so he felt better and hoped maybe that was over.

“Goodnight, Kurt,” he said.

“Goodnight, Blaine,” Kurt said back.

Blaine turned out the lights and rolled away from Kurt, pulling the blankets over his shoulder. Kurt wasn't sure why he'd done that, Blaine usually put out his arms for Kurt to snuggle into. Had he done something? He couldn't think of anything, they'd had a long day at school – he at McKinley, Blaine at Dalton. Blaine had picked him up after school and he'd made the duck for dinner. He was filing through his whole day in his mind, looking for what he'd done to cause Blaine to be upset at him, but he wasn't finding anything when Blaine spoke.

“Kurt? Is everything okay? You're not cuddling me...” Blaine said, turning back to look at Kurt in the small amount of light the moon provided.

“Ah, no, nothing's wrong. I guess I was just lost in thought. Sorry,” Kurt stammered, scooting closer. Blaine turned back and Kurt put his arms around Blaine and brought his chest close to Blaine's back and rested his cheek on Blaine's shoulder blade. He could feel Blaine's heartbeat through the back of his pajamas, a steady sound that would soon lull Kurt to sleep once again. This was so perfect, Kurt thought, he didn't want to give it up.

“Kurt? Are you still awake?” Blaine asked almost an hour later, though he knew the answer, he could feel Kurt's muscles weren't relaxed and his breathing was irregular, not the steady rhythm of sleep.

“Yeah, Blaine, I guess I am. I'm sorry, was I keeping you up?” Kurt replied.

“Well, if you mean were you keeping me from sleeping the answer is no,” Blaine said.

“I don't understand. What else would you mean..?” Kurt stopped, realizing what else Blaine could mean by those words 'keeping me up'. “Blaine? What are you saying?”

“Nothing. Forget it,” Blaine said, mad at himself for saying anything. He was here to comfort Kurt, not seduce him. He was instantly regretful, Kurt had trusted him to be a friend, to provide support in his time of worry and need, not to tell him how much lying next to him in bed was beginning to arouse him. It was a good thing it was so dark because Blaine was blushing a dark red.

Kurt moved his arms tighter around Blaine, thinking about what he'd said. It was true that several times over the past weeks that one or the other of the boys had awoken with a hardness they couldn't exactly hide in such close proximity, but they just repositioned themselves to avoid any contact until it relaxed again. Neither of them said anything, it wasn't a topic that needed attention, just a typical physical result of being close. But it had been happening more often in the past three or four days. Kurt had forced himself to get up and go to the bathroom to take care of it himself the night before, but he hoped Blaine didn't know.

Blaine tried to fall back asleep, but it didn't work. He was now so hard he was uncomfortable. It was the reason he had started the night turned away from Kurt, he couldn't help it and he was unable to tell Kurt that was why. He was also unable to go somewhere else to sleep, he missed Kurt when they weren't sleeping tangled together. He started to wonder when this had all started. He had been attracted to Kurt from the moment he'd seen the photograph in the SUV that night they met. The thick chestnut hair, every strand in place, the rosy cheeks and dimpled smile. And those eyes...blue, green, gray – like some sort of beautiful kaleidoscope, changing a little with every movement or emotion. Oh, he had to stop thinking like this, he was doing his poor, neglected, aroused body no good at all.

He had to think of something else. But now he could hear Kurt, restless in the bed, moving a little so as not to disturb Blaine. But it did disturb him. A lot. He thought back to the day Kurt had looked at his scars. At the time it wasn't sensual, well, at least not lustful. It was sensual. Kurt had traced the horrible scars, but he wasn't repulsed by them. He put his sensitive lips on them and traced the pathways, eliciting more reaction than Blaine thought possible. The scar tissue itself had no nerve endings, but when they were touched, it increased the feeling at the edges. In some places it was a prickling pain, not enough to cry out, but definitely felt. Some places at the edge of the largest scars it was a pleasureful sensation, like being touched in an intimate place, but more. More what, he didn't know -it was just more.

Kurt interrupted his thoughts. “Blaine, is something wrong? I just have the feeling we need to talk or something, but I'm sort of confused.”

“Talk about what?” Blaine asked, adjusting once again to try to alleviate the strong yearning of his aroused parts.

“I don't know how to say this,” Kurt whispered.

“I think we can say anything to each other by now, Kurt. Just say it and then we can decide how to continue. Do you need something from me? Is that why it's hard to ask? Don't worry, Kurt, we're friends and you can ask anything,” Blaine said back in his soft voice.

“You won't hurt my feelings, no matter what you answer, Blaine, but ….do we have something between us, something more than just comforting each other about our insecurities? I mean, that is enough, I have told you that your caring for me saved my life. You know that. But do we have something more?” Kurt asked, terrified of the answer. If Blaine said there wasn't more and he got angry that Kurt had assumed such, would he make him leave? That thought terrified Kurt. But if there was more, more than caring, more like affection, attraction.....Kurt was equally terrified of that.