I'm falling apart,
I'm barely breathing,
With a broken heart,
That's still beating.

Chapter 3:

Blaine walked through the door after class on Friday and found Kurt on the couch next to a guy who looked like he belonged in a band from the 70s. His hair was shaped perfectly around the top of his head and he dressed like a little kid on Christmas day, whose grandma was coming to visit, so he had to look pristine. They both looked up at Blaine and he smiled.

"Hey," he said, happily.

"Hey, babe," Kurt said, smiling back. "This is Colton," he said and Blaine nodded, because Kurt had told him about this Colton kid he was tutoring and how he felt bad for him and how he was the worst student on earth ("and I've helped Finn with his homework in the past"). "Colton Fisher, this is my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine went closer and offered Colton a hand. He looked terrified as he reached up and took it, then gave it a weak shake. Kurt had been right, he was really weird.

"Nice to meet you," Blaine said and Kurt was stifling a laugh next to Colton. "I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?" Colton asked, suddenly, looking alarmed, his dark eyes locked on Blaine. "Kurt told you about me?"

"Um, yeah," Blaine said, carefully, eyes flicking over to Kurt for some kind of support, because this Colton guy was certainly.. interesting, to say the very least.

"We tell each other everything, Colton, it's nothing to worry about," Kurt assured him.

"Well, nice meeting you, Colton," Blaine grinned. "I'll just make myself scarce until you guys are done."

He went around the back of the couch and gave Kurt's shoulder a light squeeze as he passed.

"Where's Santana?" Kurt asked, placing a hand lightly over Blaine's.

"She said she'd be home later," Blaine informed him, as Colton stared down at his shoes, looking as if there was a snake by his feet.

"Okay," Kurt smiled and gave Blaine's hand a pat, before letting go. "We're almost done here."

Blaine smiled back and went into their bedroom to get some work done. It was fifteen minutes later when Blaine walked outside to get a drink from the refrigerator. When he opened the door, both Kurt and Colton looked up at him expectantly.

"Don't mind me," Blaine said and Kurt smiled and looked back down, but Colton's dark eyes lingered and made Blaine a little uncomfortable. He opened the refrigerator door and took a can of Coke from the top shelf. "You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Kurt told him.

"Colton?"

Colton shook his head, not raising his eyes to look at Blaine. Blaine looked across at them for a moment. Colton was really odd. He was looking down at the book in front of him while Kurt explained something to him, his eyes wide and frightened looking, his jaw set. Kurt reached across and took a pen from Colton and their hands brushed and Colton's face filled with colour and Blaine understood.

"What are you laughing at?" Kurt asked, amusedly, eyes going to Blaine in the kitchen and Blaine realised he was chuckling a bit.

"Oh, nothing," Blaine said, quickly. "Sorry, I'll just go back inside and.. Yeah."

And he went back to their room and closed the door and laughed quietly to himself, because Colton had a crush on Kurt and Kurt didn't even know it.

"He's in love with you," Blaine told Kurt one night as they watched a bad horror movie. Neither of them were really watching it any more. The guy killing everyone became less scary once Kurt had likened him to Finn in the mornings.

"What?"

"Colton."

"What about him?" Kurt asked, hitting the mute button.

"He's in love with you," Blaine repeated with a smile.

He'd come home to find them studying lots of times since the first time and sometimes he would watch them together, watch Colton blushing the colour of a cherry tomato, watch him watching Kurt like he was the most beautiful thing on earth (and he was). That was how Blaine knew it was love, that it was more than a mere crush. Blaine knew because he knew what it looked like to be in love with Kurt. He remembered looking at himself in the mirror and wanting so desperately for things to be different, for the feelings he was feeling for Kurt to just disappear. And at the same time, he wanted to keep feeling like that forever, because being in love with Kurt was the best feeling in the world. He hadn't wanted it to be, not back then, but every day he fell more in love with him and Blaine was more than fine with that.

Colton had that look on his face, that dopey, lost look, the one that Blaine knew so well, because he wore that look himself every day. Kurt didn't even notice. He was as oblivious as ever, even when Colton laughed too loudly at the things he said, even when Kurt hadn't meant them to be funny. Blaine couldn't help but be amused, but he was also feeling slightly jealous, which was ridiculous, he knew, because Colton definitely wasn't Kurt's type.

Then again, at one point, Blaine hadn't been Kurt's type, either and Kurt definitely hadn't been Blaine's type, or at least had they believed this was the case.

"Colton is not in love with me," Kurt laughed, his laughter sending small vibrations all along Blaine's side. "I mean, he's weird, but he's not.. Not into me. Not like that."

"Kurt, he looks at you like.." he paused and thought for a moment. "Well, like I look at you."

Kurt looked down at him, blue eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Not true," he said. "No one looks at me the way you do."

And that was enough for Blaine.

Kurt's hands were on his back, under his shirt, the tips of his fingers sliding along his skin, sending small, aching shivers up and down his spine. His fingers would stop every so often and kneed his skin where his body curved and Blaine would whisper I love yous against his swollen lips and into his hot mouth.

Blaine's hands rested on Kurt's hips, his thumb stroking that strip of bare skin, where his shirt had slid up. He slid his knee slowly between Kurt's thighs and he gasped a little against Blaine's mouth.

And then a door slammed.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Santana said, leaning over the back of the couch to look at them. Kurt had moved to his knees and Blaine pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave Santana his best bitch face, though he was sure Kurt's was far worse. "It's like porn without the hassle of having to delete your browsing history."

Blaine groaned quietly and threw his head back. Kurt moved off of him and sat down near Blaine's feet, scowling.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Hummel," Santana said, taking a seat across from them. "You guys are at it all the time, you can give me five minutes. I'll be gone by then."

"Where are you going?" Blaine asked, flinging his feet into Kurt's lap.

"Oh, I didn't tell you, did I?" she said, examining her nails. "Old Blue's Clues is moving in downstairs. Don't ask me how he wound up finding an apartment here of all places, because I didn't ask. Trust me, the less time I have to spend talking to that guy, the better. Anyway, I'm helping him get his shit moved in."

"Blue's Clues?" Kurt said.

"Sebastian?" Blaine asked, at the same time. "You don't even like Sebastian."

Santana shrugged. "Well, it's better than hanging out listening to you sucking eachother's dicks all day," she told them. "Besides, the asshole said he'd pay me and if you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly rolling in hundred dollar bills. Unlike some people."

Blaine rolled his eyes and Kurt said, "It's blackmail money, Santana. It's not Blaine's fault his dad's an asshole." He looked down at Blaine. "No offense."

"None taken. Asshole is the polite version of what he is."

Kurt gave him a sad smile, to which he responded with a shrug.

"Whatever," Santana said, tiredly.

"Anyway," Kurt said. "Who is Blue's Clues?"

"Ooh," Santana grinned. "He doesn't know." Blaine flung his head back again and sighed.

"What don't I know?" Kurt asked and Blaine could feel his blue eyes on him, questioning him.

He sighed again and Santana said, "Blue's Clues is Sebastian Smythe. We've got class with him. He's got the hots for your boy, Hummel."

Blaine groaned. "Santana, he's got the hots for everything," he said. "I saw him flirting with a tree last week—"

"He wants in those too-short pants, Anderson."

"Look," Blaine said, sitting up to look at Kurt, because he knew exactly what he was thinking. "He's just a guy who doesn't know how to take no for an answer, but that doesn't mean anything, because I'm not interested."

Kurt eyed him for a split second, then said, simply, "Alright."

Blaine nodded and Santana stood up. "I'll be going," she smiled, heading for the door. "Practice safe sex, guys. We don't have room here for a baby."

And then she was gone.

"Five weeks," Kurt said. "She's been here for five weeks."

"I'll talk to her," Blaine said, sitting up all the way and then going to push Kurt down. "I will," he told him, pressing a single kiss to his lips.

"Okay," Kurt smiled and Blaine kissed him again. After a while, Kurt pulled away, then reached up and placed a hand to Blaine's cheek. His blue eyes were darker than usual and he let out a long breath. "This Sebastian.."

"Kurt," Blaine said, firmly. "Kurt, baby, listen. I can't stand him. I can't even have a conversation with the guy without wanting to punch him. Just because he likes me doesn't mean I like him back, so will you please just stop worrying and kiss me?"

Kurt watched him for a moment, then leaned up and caught Blaine's lips with his own.

Kurt came out of the bedroom after having a shower and Blaine was asleep on the sofa, hair dishevelled, mouth hanging open. Kurt smiled and shook his head. Watching Blaine sleep was something he had gotten used to doing, but he had never really gotten used to it in the sense that it still made his heart still briefly in his chest every time he looked at him lying there like that.

He went and sat down carefully on the end of the sofa and Blaine shifted. Kurt froze, not wanting to wake him, but Blaine only moved so that he was lying against him. Kurt relaxed a bit and smiled down at him again. He sat back and looked at the TV, which was left on mute. The remote control was on the coffee table and Kurt didn't want to disturb Blaine by leaning across to get it. He sat and just listened to the sound of Blaine's low snores and just relaxed and enjoyed the moment, because they rarely got a minute's peace any more, not with Santana barging in and out and with Rachel coming in uninvited. It was nice just being like this.

Unfortunately, the tranquility was short lived, because the front door flew open and Santana walked inside, followed by a tall guy with brown hair and a wide grin plastered across his face.

"How precious," Santana joked, when she saw Kurt and Blaine. Blaine sat up and looked around, like he didn't know where he was. Kurt reached out and touched his arm and he settled, then turned to look at Santana and the guy.

"Hello, Blaine," the guy said, his eyes running over him in a way that Kurt really didn't like. "Who do we have here?" he asked, turning his gaze on Kurt.

"Hummel, Blue's Clues, Blue's Clues, Hummel," Santana said, then went to the kitchen and began rooting in the cupboards.

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt told the guy.

"Sebastian Smythe," he told him. "I've heard quite a bit about you, actually."

"Really," Kurt said and he didn't make it a question like it should have been. "I haven't heard a mention of you at all."

Sebastian only smiled and slipped a hand in his jacket pocket. He looked down at Blaine, who still looked a little disorientated. "You look adorable after you wake up, Blaine," he told him. "I could get used to that sight."

"Seriously?" Kurt said, rage bubbling inside him. "That's your line?"

"It's fine," Blaine said, quietly to Kurt. "Sebastian, we've been through this. I'm with—"

"Kirk," Sebastian nodded. "I know that. So," he said, sitting down, making himself comfortable. "I was thinking of having a house warming party."

"You live in an apartment," Kurt said, like he thought Sebastian was an idiot (he did). "You can't have a house warming party in an apartment."

"An apartment warming party, then," Sebastian smiled, tilting his head and then his green eyes were on Blaine again and Kurt really disliked him, hated how he looked at Blaine, like he was some sort of prey, something he wanted to catch and eat slowly, savouring every last morsel. "You're welcome to come, Blaine. You can even bring Kirk along."

Kurt opened his mouth, but Blaine sat forward a little and sighed. "First off, it's Kurt," he said, not looking amused. "And secondly, if I was coming, of course I would take him with me. But I'm not. We're not friends, Sebastian. I don't like you and if you can't take no for an answer, then at least have the decency and the respect not to hit on me while my boyfriend is in the room."

Sometimes Kurt forgot what type of guy Blaine had been when they ahd first me, but when he said things like that, he remembered.

Sebastian, however, was not moved. "You're super hot when you're angry, Anderson."

"Watch it, Smythe," Santana said, digging into a bag of chips. "Hummel bites. Trust me, I've walked in on them during sexy times."

Kurt shot Santana a glare, which she ignored as she shoved a handful of chips in her mouth. Blaine yawned, stretching his arms high in the air and Kurt saw Sebastian watching him, eyes roving over his body and stopping at his waist where his shirt had slid up a little. Kurt thought for a minute, then looked at Blaine.

"Come on, babe," he said, emphasising the word 'babe'. "Let's go inside and leave Santana and her friend to chat."

Blaine looked confused and Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh!" Blaine said and stood up, too. "Right, yeah. Let's go."

Kurt took his arm and pulled him gently towards the bedroom, shot Sebastian a glare, then slammed the door behind them. Blaine smiled at him.

"I'm totally worn out and currently incapable of going for round two with you," he said, coming up close. "But you are so hot when you're all possessive."

Kurt smiled in response. "Get some sleep, honey."

"Anderson," Santana said. "Seriously. I can't go to his freakin' party by myself."

Blaine sighed. "I'm not going. He's a total ass."

"Who cares?" she exclaimed. "Free booze! And I know for a fact you're a drinker, Anderson. I have my sources."

Blaine groaned and sat back. "Why don't you go upstairs and ask Rachel to accompany you?"

Santana spluttered. "Berry?"she asked, as if it had been the most ludicrous thing Blaine could have said. "You want me to go somewhere with Berry?"

He ignored that and Kurt walked into the living room. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down.

"I'm trying to convince your boring boyfriend to come party with me at Blue's Clues'."

"You're kidding," Kurt deadpanned.

"She's not," Blaine said, standing up.

"Oh, come on, Anderson," Santana said, tiredly. "Where are you going?"

"The bathroom, if that's okay with you."

Santana sighed and cursed in Spanish. Blaine ignored her and left the room.

"Seriously, Hummel," Santana said, once Blaine had left the room. "What have you done to him?"

"Done to him?" Kurt asked, twisting his face in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Blaine," she said. "He used to be a party animal."

Kurt spluttered at the idea of Blaine being a party animal. Even when he had been the quarter back of the football team, Blaine had been sort of sensible and... different to the others, somehow. Sure, he drank (maybe even had a slight problem with drinking, Kurt thought), but he was never what could have been considered a party animal.

"Well, he wasn't so uptight before," Santana said. "Seriously, did you programme him to be a huge bore? Next thing he'll be sitting down with his slippers and a cup of hot cocoa to watch a chick-flick marathon, while he knits us socks and sweaters and tea cosys."

"Do you.. Do you think I'm making him boring?" Kurt asked, quietly.

"Oh, shut it, Hummel," she rolled her eyes. "It's not you, exactly. It's more.. this." She waved a hand.

"This," Kurt repeated.

Santana sighed again. "This relationship," she said. "You both need to stop acting like a couple of married grandpas and go out and have some fun for once. Jeez."

Kurt sat back and looked down at his hands. Were they really boring? Had he turned Blaine into some kind of.. old man? He was dressing differently to the way he had when they were at school..

"Are you going to think too far into this?" Santana asked.

"He thinks too far into everything," Blaine said, walking in. He was smiling as he sat down next to Kurt and grabbed his hand. "Hey, I think I read that they're playing Brady Bunch movies tonight. You know, as a kid, I always wanted my mom to leave my dad and meet someone like Mr Brady. I guess it was the idea of having brothers, or whatever," Blaine smiled to himself and Santana gaped at him. "What?" he asked, looking at Santana. "The Brady Bunch was great." She rolled her eyes and looked at Kurt with on eyebrow cocked, as if to say 'I told you so'. "What do you say, Kurt? You up for staying up and watching them?" He raised both eyebrows enthusiastically at Kurt.

"Oh, wow," Kurt grimaced. Santana was right. "No, honey, you are going to a party with Santana tonight."

"What?" Blaine almost spat out. "No—Kurt. No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not."

"Santana, go get ready," Kurt said.

"But it's too earl—"

"Santana."

She groaned and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Kurt turned and looked at Blaine, who looked like a sad puppy. "Blaine," he said, moving up closer. "Look, I love you, okay? And I mean, The Brady Bunch is.. not bad. I'll even record them and we'll watch them tomorrow, or something. I just think.. I think you could do with a night out, you know? You used to go out all the time back home."

"I used to have sex with Quinn back home, too, but that doesn't mean I.." Blaine trailed off, eyes wide. "Oh, whoa. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Kurt assured him. "Honestly, I'm over all that, it doesn't matter. Look. I just don't want you to feel like you have to stay home with me all the time. Go out and do something."

Blaine looked defeated. "But.. I like staying home with you."

His copper penny eyes were wide and sad and Kurt couldn't resist a smile. "Don't give me the eyes," he chuckled and grabbed Blaine's hand and held it in both of his. "You're always saying I don't trust you—"

"Once," Blaine corrected. "I said that once and I wasn't even being serious."

"Once, then," Kurt nodded. "Well, I don't trust him, not one bit, but I do trust you and this is the time to prove it. Go to this apartment warming, or whatever and have fun. Get drunk, whatever, just come home to me afterwards." Kurt shrugged. "Easy."

Blaine sighed and looked down. Kurt gave his hand a squeeze and he looked back up and met his eyes. "Why?"

"Santana says this relationship is making us boring."

"And since when do we take relationship advice from Santana?" Blaine asked, calmly. "Kurt, this is ridiculous. I'm hardly going to leave you here by yourself all night."

"I can take care of myself, you know," Kurt reminded him.

"I know," Blaine said. "I know that, but I won't just leave you here. You'll get bored."

"And what, you're worried my boredom will lead to me doing something crazy?" Kurt smirked. "Seriously, go. Have a good time. I have a paper to do for Monday anyway and I'll never get started if you're going to be here distracting me with your face and your.. the rest of you."

Blaine smirked. "Is this the polite way of kicking me out?"

"Of course," Kurt teased. "So, you'll go?"

Blaine sighed. "I don't know. I guess, if you want me to.."

"If you really don't want to, don't, but it can't be about me."

"Alright," Blaine said, tiredly after a few moments. "I'll go."

"Good boy," Kurt grinned. "Now go make yourself pretty."

"Don't you mean prettier?"

"Santana," Kurt said, while Blaine was in the shower. She was applying mascara to her long, dark lashes, on the sofa. Kurt sat down across from her. "Can you do me a favour?"

She looked up, shoved the wand back into the tube and twisted it closed. "It'll probably cost you."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I need you to watch Blaine."

A slow smile crept over her face, her red lips curving upwards. "You don't trust him," she accused.

"No," Kurt said. "I trust Blaine. It's Sebastian I don't trust. You know him better than I do."

"And you know Anderson better than probably anyone," Santana told him. "He's not going to jump into bed with Blue's Clues, Kurt, or with anyone other than you, for that matter. It's not like he can go five minutes without bringing you up in conversation. Other guys would run a mile at how sickeningly in love he is."

"Are you insulting me?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow raised.

Santana sighed and crossed her legs. "Insulting you is what I do best, sweet cheeks," she smiled. "I'm just saying, Blainers isn't going to cheat on you."

"You don't get it," Kurt stressed. "It's not cheating I'm worried about. It's his ability to start a fight out of nothing. And if anything could make a person want to start a fight, it's that Sebastian guy. I just.. What if he gets a little.. handsy? And Blaine hits him?"

"I love a good gay fight," Santana joked. "Okay, fine, Hummel. I'll watch Little Lord Fauntleroy. I'll make sure he doesn't lash out and go all incredible hulk on that asshole. Happy?"

"Thank you," Kurt nodded, gratefully.

Blaine felt awkward and out of place. He stood by a couch ignoring Sebastian's winks as he chatted with some guy with glasses. He knew a few peope from college, but he didn't really consider any of them friends. He wondered what Kurt was doing upstairs, if he was getting his paper done. Santana was shouting at a guy who had tried hitting on her. Blaine chuckled. The poor guy had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Blaine looked down at his beer can and sighed. He didn't even really want to finish it, which was a surprise to him, because he loved alcohol; Not really the taste of it, but the affect it had. He guessed there was nothing in his life that he really needed to escape any more.

"I have no gag reflex, you know."

Blaine looked around as Sebastian came up behind him. "Because I needed to know that."

Sebastian leaned against the couch in front of Blaine. "It comes in handy," he told him. "Want to go to my room and I can give you a demonstration?"

"Maybe you could go to your room and give yourself a demonstration," Blaine said, calmly. "I'm not interested, Smythe. I never have been and I never will be, so you can move on to someone else."

"I guess I could," Sebastian said, pretending to look thoughtful for a moment. "I heard there's a guy upstairs. He's not really my type, looks a little like a girl—definitely dresses like one—and has a permanent scowl on his face, but I could deal with all that if I got to hold onto those narrow hips and fuck him hard in the ass, make him my slut—"

Blaine took a step forward and pushed Sebastian hard against the wall and he felt like he was back in his senior year at McKinley, back defending himself and defending Kurt and defending what they had. His stomach twisted a little, because he had thought that was all behind them, that they could just be happy here, together.

"Don't," Blaine said, angrily. "Not about him. You don't know a thing about him. You can say whatever the fuck you like about me, but not about him."

"Oh, so, you want me to make you my slut, Blaine?" Sebastian asked and he shoved his hips forward so that Blaine could feel his hard on against his stomach. "Is that it? You like that?"

Blaine removed his hips from Sebastian's legs and pulled an arm back to punch him, but suddenly, Santana was there, dragging him off.

"Okay, Anderson," she said, pushing him back. "Show's over. He's not worth it."

"But he said—"

"Whatever," she shrugged. "He's just jealous, ignore him. We don't want you getting in a fight, now do we? You're much too pretty for a black eye. Let's go get you a drink, okay?" She shot Sebastian a glare then pulled Blaine into the kitchen. "You okay, dwarf?"

"I hate that guy."

"Makes two of us," she frowned. "But," she said, offering Blaine another can. "He's got free drink here, so let's make the most of it."

Blaine paused, then took the can, because it all felt too familiar and he wanted that to go away.

"Screw him," he muttered, pulling the ring back and taking a swig.

"'Atta boy, Anderson."

Kurt was dozing off to sleep when he heard the front door opening, closing and then a lot of shuffling. He looked to the bedside table at the clock. It was 5AM. He rolled his eyes and closed them, just as the bedroom door opened. The door closed and he heard Blaine muttering something, followed by the sound of him undressing and a few seconds later, he was climbing into bed and coming up close to Kurt.

"You smell terrible," Kurt whispered with a smile.

"You smell a-amazing," Blaine said and Kurt felt his warmth against him, his arms slipping lazily around his waist.

"Good party?"

"Wish you were there."

"Aww," Kurt chuckled and then Blaine's fingers were pushing his T-shirt upwards. "Not tonight, babe," he whispered, pushing it back down.

"Wasn't a-asking for s-sex," he said, groggily. "Just want to f-feel you."

Kurt paused for a second, then reached down and tugged his shirt off and Blaine moved so that his bare chest was flush against Kurt's bare back.

"Love you," Blaine whispered, pressing his lips lazily to the side of Kurt's neck.

Kurt grimaced a little at the smell of his breath, but smiled. "I love you, too."

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, just as Blaine's fingers slid down and he cupped his hip with his hand, then snuggled in closer and rested his head in the crook of Kurt's neck.

Blaine stroked Kurt's side gently, his finger tips tracing the curve of his hip, softly, his skin baby soft and pale as milk. He was still sleeping and small snores were escaping his body and Blaine was smiling because despite his pounding head ache, Kurt was the most amazing thing to watch sleeping. He was lying flat on his stomach, his bare back facing the ceiling and Blaine couldn't resist putting his hands on him. His skin was so unflawed and when he breathed, his body rose and fell in a steady rhythm and God, Blaine just loved this boy so fucking much.

He slipped his hand higher so that his fingers trailed along the length of his back, stopping where his lower back curved out into the swell of his ass, and then back up again, along his spine and over his shoulder blades, making him shudder a little, even in his sleep. Blaine always loved watching the reaction Kurt's body had to his touch, loved watching how he could make him shiver, or cry out, or gasp, or scream. It made him smile knowing he had any kind of effect on him.

Blaine's fingers drew invisible patterns over his skin, but he stopped still, his heart dipping in his chest.

His bracelet was gone.

"Hi," Kurt said, twisting his head around to face him. His eyes were half closed, a small smile playing on his lips.

Blaine shoved his hand under the covers and smiled back, hoping he didn't look as guilty as he felt. Where the hell was his bracelet? "Hey, pretty boy," he said, a little too quickly.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine!"

Kurt eyed him carefully. "Must have to do with the hangover," he smirked, finally. Blaine laughed, nervously. Kurt rolled his blue, blue eyes, then leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll start breakfast," he whispered. "You take a shower, you smell like a bar."

"Hey," Blaine objected.

"It's true," Kurt giggled a bit and Blaine's heart skipped a little.

"Yet you still kissed me," he said.

Kurt's grin faded to a serious smile and then he leaned across for the second time and kissed Blaine again. "I'll always kiss you," he told him, softly. "Always, no matter what."

He rummaged through his clothes, crawled along the floor, checked under the bed, emptied his bag, but the bracelet was nowhere to be found. He couldn't get rid of the feeling of dread and despair in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell Kurt he'd lost it, he just couldn't. Kurt never took his bracelet off and usually, Blaine didn't either.

It had to have fallen off and he needed to find it as soon as possible, because Kurt would notice soon. After his shower, he pulled on a long sleeved shirt and went to join Kurt for breakfast, hoping and praying it would turn up soon, or he was never going to forgive himself.

"Santana! I need you to come to school with me."

"Fuck off, Anderson, it's Saturday."

Blaine groaned and pushed Santana's door open. She was still in bed and when Blaine went inside she pulled a pillow over her head and groaned. He went and sat on the end and tugged at her covers.

"Santana, please," he begged. "This is important."

"Why can't Kurt go with you?" she asked. "I'm clearly busy. I needs my beauty sleep."

"Because he can't know."

She sat up a little at that, her dark eyes half open, but still studying him suspiciously. "Can't know what?"

Blaine sighed and explained the bracelet thing to Santana, how they'd exchanged them, how they meant so much, how neither of them ever took them off, not ever. And now it was lost. How could he not have noticed it missing?It was part of him, for goodness' sake. How could he have been so clueless?

"Christ, Anderson," she said, pushing herself up in the bed. "Fine. I'll go with you so you and Hummel can continue with your perfect, little relationship, okay?"

"Thank you," he sighed. "He's in the shower, he can't know. I'll tell him we have to go pick up.. something, I don't know.. Just.. Back me up, okay?"

"Fine, sure, whatever," she said, impatiently. "Now get the hell out and let me get dressed. I don't care if you like cock, I don't want you seeing my tits."

Blaine left as quickly as he'd entered.

"It's not here," he exhaled, panic soaring through his veins. The library was the last place he had been before going home the previous day and the bracelet was nowhere in sight.

"Okay," Santana said. "Okay, calm down, bubble butt. We'll find it and if we don't, he'll understand—"

"No, Santana," Blaine shook his head and sat down. He buried his face in his hands. "You don't get it. This is important. This is everything. I don't even know what I'll do if it's gone. How am I supposed to explain to him that—"

"Anderson," Santana shouted, earning a few disapproving glares from people studying around the room. "Oh, get a life. Who the hell comes here on a Saturday?" They looked away and she looked down at Blaine. "Okay. Deep breaths, Anderson. We just need to think, okay?"

Blaine shook his head. He couldn't think. If he'd lost that bracelet for good, he would never be able to look Kurt straight in the eye again. How had he been so damned careless? Kurt would never lose his bracelet, not ever. Blaine was a failure. He was the worst boyfriend on the planet. He—

"You are not the worst boyfriend on the planet, will you shut the hell up?"

"Did I say that out loud?" Blaine asked, miserably.

"Yes," Santana confirmed. "But guess what? Auntie 'Tana just had a brain wave, Blainers."

He looked up quickly. "You did?"

She nodded. "Mm hmm," she grinned. "Where else did we go after class yesterday?"

"Um," Blaine blinked. "Home?"

"After that."

"After..." He thought for a little while, then it hit him. "Sebastian's!" He let out a sigh. "Oh my God, Santana, I could kiss you right now."

"Ooh-kay," she said, holding up both hands. "You can keep those blow-job lips to yourself, but I am a genius, it has to be said."

"You are," Blaine exhaled. He couldn't remember much of what had happened at Sebastian's party after he had almost punched him, so that had to be it, he had to have dropped it in his apartment, which meant it wasn't gone forever.

"It's about time someone appreciated me," Santana smiled. "Now come on, Anderson," she said, tugging him up out of the chair. "Let's go before Sebastian's too busy having an orgy or some shit to answer his door."

Blaine smiled, properly, because Santana was an unlikely friend, but besides Kurt, she was slowly becoming his best friend.

There was a heavy tap on the front door and Kurt went to answer it. It's probably Finn, he thought, because Rachel usually just barged inside without any sort of invitation. Blaine and Santana had gone to the college library to collect some sort of assignment papers and he was alone in the apartment. However, when he opened the door, it was not Finn, or Rachel standing outside, it was Sebastian.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, bluntly.

Sebastian grinned and walked inside. "Is Blaine around?"

"Um," Kurt said, turning to look at him. "No. Why?"

Sebastian settled down into the arm chair and smiled up at Kurt. "Close the door, Minnie Mouse, you and I need to have a little chat."

Kurt watched him for a few seconds, then shut the door. "I don't like you, Sebastian. Blaine doesn't like you. Santana doesn't like you, so you have no reason to be here. Why are you here, anyway?"

Sebastain sat forward a little, the smirk still on his face. "I was cleaning up this morning after the party and I found a little something on my bedroom floor, right by my bed." Kurt watched as he reached inside his jacket and pulled something out, then held his open palm out for Kurt to see. "Maybe you'll recognise it."

Kurt sighed then went closer to have a look. He stopped still, eyes going wide. Lying in the centre of Sebastian's palm was a pool of silver links, attached to a silver plate. Kurt didn't even have to read the words on it to know what they said, because he'd had them engraved there, he'd read them and traced them a million and one times.

I keep thinking in a moment time will take them away,
But these feelings won't go away.

Kurt's legs gave in and he sunk down into the sofa, unable to form words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. Sebastian was grinning like a deranged hyena and Kurt wanted to punch him, to get rid of that smirk once and for all, but his legs wouldn't carry him. He felt as if every one of his worst fears had come together and hit him all at once.

He found the strength to outstretch a hand and Sebastian dropped the bracelet into Kurt's palm. "Leave," he told Sebastian and Sebastian obliged, whistling happily as he closed the door behind him.

Kurt looked down at the bracelet, then flung it across the room and tears of anger, pain, loss, betrayal and a multitude of other things trickled out of his ice blue eyes and down his cheeks and he made no move to wipe them away. Blaine's bracelet—the one that matched the bracelet on Kurt's arm, the one they had vowed they would never, ever take off—winding up by Sebastian's bed could only mean one thing.

The world had fallen down around him and he had no idea how to pick it back up. This was it, it was over.