“It’s going to be great!” Kurt said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Of course, they’re letting me plan the whole thing.”

“Of course,” Blaine said, nodding his head and smiling.

“I’ve already picked the color scheme! It’s going to be a true fall wedding.” Kurt dug through his bag and pulled out a large binder and laid it out on the table for Blaine to see. “Orange, and ivory, and… oh it’s going to be fabulous.”

Blaine looked between Kurt and the binder, his mouth stuck in a smile. Despite the fact that he and Kurt had only known each other for a few weeks, he had taken quite a liking to the boy. He was funny, smart, and truly his own person, which Blaine admired. And despite the fact that Kurt was a year older than him, Blaine had kind of taken Kurt under his wing. He was the first gay friend Kurt had ever had, the first person who could really, really understand what he was going through. And that was kind of, really awesome.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie where this creature is following me and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Kurt stumbled into the music room and collapsed in his seat. The rest of New Directions furtively glanced at him as they piled into glee practice, looks of pity and concern on their faces. It had gotten to a point where they all noticed: Kurt looked paler, he didn’t speak as much, he was losing weight. Amongst the chaos and excitement of planning his dad’s wedding, he had almost managed to forget about the looming threat that was David Karofsky …almost.

And then he was brought right back to reality, where Sam had a black eye and Kurt was terrified for his life. He couldn’t tell anyone. They had gone to Sue Sylvester, and he just couldn’t tell because that was something you didn’t do to someone else, even if they were cruel and violent. But he needed relief, someone to talk to, and the night before, after having spent a few hours trying to do his homework in vain, Kurt had picked up his phone and dialed the first number he could think of.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Blaine. It’s Kurt.”

“Oh, hey! What's up?" There was a rustling on his end. Blaine was probably settling down on his bed.

What could Kurt say? “Oh, hey, Blaine! I know I don’t know you that well, but here are all my problems!”

"Kurt? … Kurt?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Kurt said quickly. “Couldn’t really focus on my homework. Do you have some time?”

“I always have time for you,” Blaine replied. Blaine had a habit of doing that, saying things that made Kurt’s stomach flip. Not because he necessarily had a crush on Blaine, but because he seemed so genuinely interested in Kurt’s life and it made him feel more special than any one of his friends ever had. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt said with a small laugh. “I’m guessing that you’re sick of hearing about my dad’s wedding.”

“That’s impossible.”

Both boys laughed, then fell into an awkward silence.

“Seriously, though,” Blaine said. “What’s up? You sound tired.”

“Just the wedding,” Kurt replied. “School work. You know.” Should he just say it? Admit that he was slowly losing his grip, knowing that Blaine would be there for him? Was that cowardly or overbearing? But what else could he do? He couldn’t tell his dad. Finn wouldn’t stand up for him. Ah, there goes nothing.

“Blaine? There’s…um…actually something else.”

Blaine was silent for a few seconds. “What’s up?”

Kurt swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve been having a hard time at school lately. I thought things would get easier with Karofsky, but they haven’t. It’s only gotten worse. I’m…” Suddenly, Kurt’s voice betrayed him and he found himself with a lump in his throat. “I’m really scared.”

“Kurt,” Blaine murmured on the other end, his voice gentle. “Have you told the school?”

“They can’t do anything without proof,” Kurt replied bitterly. “I saw the principal today.”

“And what about your dad?”

“He’s sick, and the wedding, and—”

“Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was suddenly firm. “His most important job is taking care of you.”

“I know,” Kurt said with a sigh. “It’s just… It would be so hard on him. What would he be able to do about it, you know? Why worry him if the outcome will just be the same?”

On the other end, Blaine grumbled quietly. “I just wish there was something more we could do.”

“Just talk,” Kurt said. “I need someone to distract me.”

And so they spent a few hours exchanging their normal banter, discussing celebrities and fashion and gossip. At eleven, they agreed to hang up and go to bed, but even then Kurt couldn’t sleep, hence, his tired state.

Nothing anybody did was making things better, and it was kind of killing him inside.

Blaine leaned against his locker. The school day was about to begin, but he hadn't slept at all.

It was going to be a very long day.

Blaine really regretted not getting more sleep when he had difficulty remembering his locker combination, but he knew that he couldn't have slept if he tried; his conversation with Kurt had riled him up. He had spent the night clenching his teeth and violently gripping the sheets.

"It's just not fair," he whispered, viciously slamming his locker shut.

"Whoah, there, buddy!" Wes and David showed up on each of Blaine's shoulders, their uniforms crisp and clean, opposed to Blaine's, which was wrinkled and sloppy.

"What is up with you today?" Wes asked, trying to fix Blaine's shirt, which wasn't buttoned properly.

"And what's not fair?" chimed David.

"Nothing," Blaine muttered, brushing both of their hands off him.

"I see someone’s got his knickers in a knot, today!" David said with his hand over his mouth, mocking offense.

"Maybe Blaine is upset because he misses his little friend from Lima," Wes snickered.

"Just go!" Blaine snapped, sending Wes and David scuttling down the hallway. They looked at him and giggled before heading off to calculus. Blaine rummaged through his bag, pulling out his phone. He typed out a quick message, and after he was satisfied with the product, he pressed send and put the phone back in his bag. It was most certainly going to be a long day.

Kurt and the rest of New Directions were sitting in the choir room, listening to Mr. Schuester animatedly explain the complexities of Journey. Suddenly, something buzzed against Kurt's leg. Making sure that Mr. Schue was not watching, Kurt surreptitiously pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked open the lock screen. To his delight, he had a text from Blaine. A smile spread across his face.

"Kurt?" Kurt looked up and realized that the whole glee club, including Mr. Schue, was staring at him. "Is there anything you would like to share?" Mr. Schuster asked sternly.

"No," Kurt replied, blushing fiercely. And it was only after Mr. Schue had gone back to reminiscing about the 80's that Kurt dared to slip his phone out and glance at the text again.

Hey. I'm going to pick you up after school. Parking lot. 3:30. See you.

--Blaine

Kurt spent his history class staring at the clock. Halfway through, he felt a jab at his side.

"Pst!"

He turned around to face Mercedes, who was staring at him angrily.

"What?" Kurt whispered.

"What is your deal?" Mercedes hissed.

"I don't know what you’re talking about," Kurt replied innocently, turning back to face the board.

"Don't you turn away from me, white boy," Mercedes ordered. "Kurt Hummel, why have you been staring at the clock all day like it’s a pair of Armani skinnies?"

"No reason," Kurt replied, blushing slightly.

Mercedes' eyes grew wide. "Kurt," she whispered dangerously, "Kurt I have seen that look in your eyes before, and that was the time you told me that you were in love with… Rachel. You know what I-"

"Kurt, Mercedes!" Ms. Laurence, the history teacher, turned sharply on the children. "If you do not stop talking, I will send you to Principle Sylvester's office."

"Sorry," they whimpered. Kurt faced forward and was content to stare at the clock once again.

In English, Mr. Marx was practically begging his students to analyze the text from Love in the Time of Cholera, but Kurt was busy analyzing a text of his own. Kurt memorized it and wrote it on his English notebook.

Hey. I'm going to pick you up after school. Parking lot. 3:30. See you.

--Blaine

The tone was casual, but insistent. Did that mean Blaine really wanted to see him? On the other hand, the last two mini sentences suggested that it was urgent. But why? And were his reasons more than just "friendly?" Blaine was a nice guy; he had practically held Kurt's hand the second he met him. And besides, Kurt didn't like him like that. He didn't have to jump on the first openly gay guy he met in his life. Their friendship was great. Totally, completely, and utterly great.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Kurt collected all of his belongings and headed out into the hallway. He had his phone in his hand with Blaine's text on the screen. The light from the open front doors shone like a guiding beacon: so close, and yet—

As Kurt was within ten feet of the doorway, he felt a hand gripping his arm. He spun around, coming face to face with David Karofsky.

"What are you doing?" Karofsky asked, smoothly sliding his hand down Kurt's arm, over his wrist, and grabbing his phone. Kurt felt goosebumps where the Neanderthal had touched him.

"Hey!" Kurt reached for his phone, but Karofsky turned and blocked him with his broad football player shoulders.

"So you have a boyfriend now?" Karofsky hissed, sending his phone flying back at Kurt, who fumbled and dropped all of his books. When Kurt bent down to pick up his stuff, Karofsky took the liberty of kicking all of Kurt's possessions around the hallway, then pushing him against a locker.

Kurt slid to the floor while Karofsky laughed and walked away, calling, "See you later, homo!"

Unable to get up, Kurt reached for his phone and pressed on Blaine's name.

"Hello?"

"Please come inside," Kurt said, trying his hardest to catch his breath. Before he even finished the sentence, he heard the rustling of Blaine's clothes on the other end and knew that Blaine was on his way.

In a matter of seconds, Kurt felt two strong hands on his waist. He managed to sit up and face the group of people who were looking down at him. Right above Kurt stood Blaine, his face etched with concern.

"Are you OK?" Blaine asked softly, firmly bracing his hand on Kurt's lower back.

"Yeah," Kurt replied shakily, taking Blaine's arm and standing up. He dusted himself off and instantly bent down to collect his books and phone.

"Whoah!" Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's wrist. "Calm down. I'll do that for you."

"As much as I appreciate your chivalry, I don't need help," Kurt said, pulling his arm out of Blaine's grasp. But Finn, Mercedes, and Rachel, who had arrived shortly after Blaine, had already collected all of Kurt's things. They handed them to Kurt, who was trying to ignore Blaine's eyes, wide in offense. There was an awkward silence as all five students tried to think of something helpful to say. Finally Kurt broke the silence.

"We should go…” he said to Blaine. Blaine nodded and led him off to the parking lot, where his black car was waiting. As Kurt studied Blaine properly for the first time that day, he realized that he was looking very disheveled. His hair, which was usually combed into neat curls, was half gelled to his head. His tie, usually straight and even, seemed crooked. And there was something about the way Blaine was standing; his usual self-assured manner had vanished. He looked kind of like a wreck.

When they reached Blaine's car, the first thing that popped out of Kurt's mouth was, "What's wrong?"

Blaine ran his fingers roughly through his hair and responded, "I just want to talk to you. Please, get in."

Kurt quickly complied, stuffing himself into the shotgun seat. Blaine slid into the driver's seat and set the car roaring to life. For twenty minutes, Blaine drove in complete silence, clenching the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. Finally, Kurt couldn't take it any more. "Where are we going?" he asked slowly.

"Your house,” Blaine replied quickly. “I figured you could use a ride home and some company.”

Despite how awful he was feeling, Kurt smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s… great. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, Blaine pulled onto Kurt’s street, and then into his driveway. He must have remembered his address from that time they saw Rent together. Blaine opened the door, then looped around and helped Kurt out of the car. Once Kurt had opened the door to his house, they walked inside and sat down on the couch. Blaine removed his blazer and sat still, his gaze shifting between Kurt and the floor.

"Blaine?" Kurt said quietly. “This may be silly, but… are you alright?”

Blaine looked up at him and ran his fingers through his hair and down his neck. “ After what you told me last night – I just – I couldn't sleep,” he said. “I just… I got so angry… Kurt, I know that I told you to have courage and whatever, and I’m trying to stick to it, but listening to you crying on the phone—it’s not worth it, Kurt.”

“Blaine—”

"You don't understand how hard it was for me to restrain myself back at McKinley.” Blaine clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “I was seriously considering going after that cave man and giving him what he deserved. I know I'm better than that, but seeing you… it made me forget. And it's really my fault it's this bad—I told you to stand up for yourself."

"W—what? Blaine, no!" Kurt said, shifting closer to Blaine. "You haven’t caused any of my problems. It's not your fault that bullies like Karofsky go around threatening to kill people—"

"He … what?” Blaine’s voice suddenly got low and dangerous, and it was absolutely terrifying.

“N-nothing,” Kurt said quickly. “Blaine—”

"Why haven't you told me about this?" Blaine demanded.

"Because these aren't your problems!" Kurt countered, gripping Blaine’s wrist and looking him right in the eyes.

"Yes they are," Blaine said loudly. Then, suddenly, he was calm. His went soft and round, looking at Kurt with so much sorrow and… caring. "Don't you get it, Kurt?" he almost whispered. "If they're your problems, they're my problems, too."

Kurt let go in astonishment. Had Blaine just said what Kurt thought Blaine said? In all of his life, he had never heard somebody say something so selfless to him… well maybe his father, but he definitely did not feel this way about his father. Tears welled up in Kurt's eyes as he threw his arms around Blaine's shoulders and hugged him tighter than he had hugged anyone in his life. Blaine gladly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around the Kurt’s waist and rubbing his back.

For that moment, he sort of forgot about Neanderthals and slushies and hatred. It was just him and Blaine, hugging on his couch, because Blaine really cared about him.

Except, they weren't alone.

"Are you sure we need to do this?" David asked Wes from behind a bush. They were poking their heads out and watching Kurt and Blaine get out of Blaine's Jeep.

"Yes," Wes said. "Blaine has been distracted lately. As friends, not to mention leaders of the Warblers, it is our job to make sure he's alright."

"I think following him around after school does not fit that job description," David replied, watching as Kurt opened the door to what was most likely his house and letting Blaine inside. "Clearly Blaine likes this guy a lot, and it's really none of our business. Teasing him about it in school," David winked at Wes, "well, that is totally our number one priority."

"Call me crazy," Wes said, grinning, "but I just want to make sure that Blaine is in top shape for sectionals. You know that he's our best soloist – no offense—"

"None taken."

Making sure that nobody was looking, the boys quickly ran across the street, then knelt under a window that opened into a small but cozy living room. Blaine an Kurt were sitting on the couch inside.

"And if we lose him because he's too busy making out with this Lima boy, we lose our first chance at winning sectionals in ten years. TEN YEARS, David. Can you believe – oh shit, look at this!" David and Wes both peered into the window to see Kurt gripping Blaine’s wrist.

"Should we jump in there?" Wes asked, panicking. David just held up a finger and watched. Something told him that the mysterious boy from Lima didn't mean to harm Blaine. He had only met him once, but David kind of trusted the kid. Kurt’s failed attempt at spying quickly ripped apart any chance of the kid being a threat, and he definitely made Blaine happy.

As if on cue, the boy let go of Blaine and they began hugging tighter than David thought possible.

"Shit," Wes murmured. "Shit, shit, shit. Blaine is hooked. There goes Sectionals."

"Shut up," David told Wes, grabbing him by the arm. He dragged his friend over to his car, which was parked a bit farther up the road so Blaine couldn't see it. But he knew that his and Wes' job was done; Blaine was in good hands.

Kurt sat on his bed that night, thinking about what Blaine had said to him while they were sitting on his couch, watching The Devil Wears Prada. The tension had dissolved completely, and both boys were animatedly talking when Blaine suddenly said, "You can always transfer to Dalton, you know. I'm sure there are tons of scholarships available, and with your grades, not to mention your unique situation, you could get in easy." Then, just like that, as fast as he'd switched topics, Blaine continued on talking about his favorite parts in the Lady GaGa issue of Vanity Fair. It was like he had never said anything about Dalton.

Even though he hated to admit it, part of Kurt wanted to follow Blaine's advice. At first it seemed like the simple road, the road for cowards, but actually facing the long, winding path of McKinley was a lot scarier now that Kurt had gotten a taste of freedom. But he knew it was a dream. He could not follow in Blaine's footsteps, no matter how much he wanted to. It just wasn't possible. Blaine was not Prince Charming, able to whisk him away to his dream castle in a magical land. Kurt was simply a servant, and he had to serve the will of prejudiced individuals for at least one and a half more years. One and a half excruciatingly long years…

Had Blaine really taken back his advice? He sat in his dorm room, trying desperately to comprehend the words in his history textbook, but it was so difficult when every single word that started with a K, a U, or really, any letter, reminded him of the tall brunet. For a whole year, Blaine had been so ashamed of his actions. He looked back on his running away and thought himself a coward. How could he have given in so easily to the bullies when Kurt had to fight it out every day? That's why he had said it; he couldn't watch Kurt's life go on that way, and transferring to Dalton seemed like the simplest solution. Blaine considered himself a man of reason and moderation, but he swore to God if he saw that son-of-a-bitch football player ever again he would beat the shit out of him. The fact that he even thought that sentence out showed how much Kurt's life was affecting him. Why did Blaine care so much? Was it because he saw so much of himself in Kurt? He was energetic, talented, ambitious… But there had to be something more. Blaine just couldn't put a finger on it. Or maybe he didn't want to.

Kurt was so excited that he actually drove to Dalton after school that day, even though he had a pile of homework sitting in his bag. He parked in the front and ran all the way up to Blaine's dorm, even though it was up five flights of stairs and he wasn't even sure that Blaine was in his room. But his luck had been good so far, so Kurt decided to push it a little bit further. He skidded up to Blaine's door, caught his breath, straightened his airplane pin, and knocked three times.

However, it wasn’t Blaine who answered the door. Unfortunately, Kurt did not take the time to register this fact, and launched himself into Wes' arms, squealing with giddy excitement. After a few seconds, he caught a hint of Wes' cologne, realized that Blaine smelled completely different, and pulled away. Instantly, Kurt's cheeks flushed.

"Oh my…”

"Looking for Blaine?" Wes asked, his eyebrows raised. Kurt nodded.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I’m a bit excited.”

"It's OK," Wes said, eyeing Kurt as he brushed his uniform down. "I'm Wes, we talked briefly a few weeks ago.”

"Kurt." They shook hands and Kurt was positive that he was still blushing.

"So…" Wes said tentatively, "You and Blaine are friends."

Kurt's was instantly energized by the mention of Blaine's name. "Yeah! Do you know where he might be?"

"In the commons," said Wes.

"Thanks!" Kurt squeaked, sliding out the door and down the hall. So what if he had just tackled one of Blaine's best friends? This was the best day of his life!

Kurt burst into the sophomore commons, a bold move considering that he didn't even go to school at Dalton, but he didn't care. Nothing could ruin his mood at the moment. He spotted Blaine in the corner, concentrating on some homework, and rushed over to him. Kurt gave Blaine the most energetic hug possible from behind, sending Blaine sprawling out of his chair.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, standing across from the boy. "Is anything wrong?"

"No!" Kurt replied. "Quite the opposite. My dad found out about Karofsky, and the principal expelled him!" Blaine's eyes widened in disbelief, and he opened his arms. Kurt gladly lunged forward and claimed his embrace, savoring the smell of Blaine instead of Wes.

"That is amazing!" Blaine said, pulling back and looking at Kurt, but he was still maintaining contact through their arms. "Congratulations! I believe this deserves a celebratory dinner at Breadstix!" Kurt nodded enthusiastically, completely forgetting about his homework. Homework could wait, Kurt decided. Freedom was calling.

A tiny waitress showed Kurt and Blaine to a booth at the back of Breadstix. After they sat down, she turned to Blaine and asked him if he would like anything to drink.

"I can get you anything you desire," she added with a wink, before strutting away with her hips swinging to and fro. After she went into the kitchen, Blaine just laughed and looked at the menu.

"If I wasn't having such a good day, I would be jealous of that waitress for hitting on you," Kurt said from across the table. His blue eyes were twinkling in a way Blaine had never really seen them before.

"Oh really?" Blaine said, laughing as he glanced up from the menu. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s not really my type.”

The boys laughed, then fell silent as they decided what they wanted to eat.

"So," Blaine said, "Tell me how it happened."

"Well," Kurt said enthusiastically, lacing his hands together on the table and crossing his legs, "Finn and I were dancing in the choir room—"

"You were what?" In an exact replica of an old Hollywood spit take, Blaine spat the water he had been sipping all over the table. "Crap." He grabbed a bunch of napkins and wiped it up. "You were … dancing? With Finn?"

"I know!" Kurt said. "We were preparing for the wedding." After a few moments of silence, they both burst out giggling. Blaine loved this, talking to Kurt, the real Kurt, who could lead a normal, safe life.

"Sorry, go on," Blaine said in his deep "gentleman" voice.

"OK, so Finn and I were dancing—stop laughing!—and then my dad saw Karofsky making fun of us, and Finn made me tell him the truth…"

As Kurt was talking, Blaine's well-trained ears picked up another voice from across the restaurant. If he wasn't mistaken, he had heard it before:

"And so my dad actually believed the little queer! I'm not even joking!"

Blaine's eyes instantly grew wide, and he tried to engage with Kurt, hoping that an unfailing audience would keep the boy from realizing who sat at the other table. He nodded as energetically as we could.

"Is everything alright?" Kurt asked, cocking his head to the side. "You look a little white."

"Yeah—"

But Blaine knew it was too late. Kurt's head peeked out from the booth and he saw the huge jocks sitting at the table in the front of the restaurant.

"Kurt, we don't have to deal with this," Blaine said instantly. "We can go right now if you want—"

"No," Kurt replied, sitting up a bit straighter. "I have nothing to fear now. What are you going to order?"

Blaine was astounded by Kurt's sheer courage. Blaine had always wanted the power to do what Kurt was doing, to stand up to everybody who hated him for being himself and show that he wasn't afraid. And he was pretty good at putting on the "proud gay man" act, and he really was proud, but when it came down to it, he ran, and he ran fast.

After the waitress delivered their soup and salad bowls with a seductive wink, Blaine and Kurt were pretty much back to talking normally again, but the imminent threat of the bullies at the other table would not escape Blaine's thoughts…

After they had finished their meal and Blaine paid the bill ("Damn you and your polite-ness" Kurt muttered,) he and Kurt stood up to leave. Kurt looked ahead, his stance completely straight, but Blaine could see that his lip was quivering slightly. The older boy slid to Kurt's side and took his hand, which was surprisingly sweaty. Kurt gladly squeezed Blaine's hand as they bravely walked to the front of the restaurant. Kurt opened the door and they heard the little jingle of the bell when the first strike came:

"Hey! Look who it is! It's homo boy and his little boyfriend, preppy private school homo!"

Kurt automatically turned to face the bullies, who were all half-standing, ready to fight if the chance presented itself. Blaine quickly squeezed his hand, urging Kurt to just leave; these guys were mad.

"Oh," Kurt hissed, "those insults were so original. You should go into creative writing. I might be sitting in the presence of the next JK Rowling." He turned on his heel and pulled Blaine out of the restaurant before any of the Neanderthals could understand what he had said. Once they were half way across the parking lot, one of the jocks opened the door and was following after them. Blaine turned around and saw it was the one who had kissed Kurt, the one who had shoved him around. Instantly, he felt all of the adrenaline in his system kick in: his heart beat faster, and his head got all dizzy. He didn't know what was going to happen, it was just going to be something big.

"Go away," Blaine said. "It's over. You can't hurt him anymore." When the football player didn’t move, Blaine ushered Kurt into the car before climbing in on the other side.

"Drive, drive, drive," Blaine said under his breath. Kurt complied, and the engine roared to life. Blaine looked back at Karofsky (the jock did have a name) as the car pulled away from Breadstix. Was it a trick of the moonlight, or did the kid have tears in his eyes? He reached over and took Kurt's hand in his. Both boys were shaking.

"Courage," Blaine whispered, for both Kurt and himself. "Courage."

Something was off about Blaine that weekend. It had been approximately one month since Blaine met the Lima spy (lovingly dubbed Hummel, Kurt Hummel). They had gone to dinner on Friday night, and from the way he dreamily hummed Teenage Dream when he came back (Wes recounted it with malice in his voice), it seemed that things were going well. But when David walked into his room after breakfast on Sunday morning, things had changed: Blaine was sitting on his bed, staring at his phone like a robot.

David approached Blaine and prodded him in the arm. He grunted quietly in response

"What's up?" David asked, sitting next to Blaine.

“Nothing,” Blaine murmured.

"Blaine? … Hello? … Dude! … Look there's David Beckham!" When his last exclamation didn't even merit a response, David knew that something was wrong. He quickly scampered across the hall and found Wes, who was happily playing Kingdom Hearts (despite the fact that the game is approximately a thousand years old) in his room.

"I think something's wrong," David said. Wes grunted, which meant, "Hold on, I just have to beat this level." After some very intricate combat moves, Wes put down the controller and turned around.

"What happened?" David motioned for Wes to follow him. The boys entered Blaine and Wes' shared dorm room and found Blaine in the exact same position in whichDavid had left him.

"He won't answer me," David said, completely puzzled by Blaine's lack of… everything. Blaine was usually the one rallying the troops and organizing awesome videogame tournaments or full-campus games of manhunt on the weekends, but he seemed completely gone, his eyes glazed over and reflecting the screen of his phone.

"You tried Beckham?" Wes asked. David nodded. "Oh God.”

Wes approached Blaine and poked him, causing him to make a disgruntled noise and knit his eyebrows together. David joined in, poking Blaine’s arm on the other side. “Blaine,” they said in unison. “Blaine… Blaine? Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, BlaineBlaineBlaineBlaine—”

"Leave me alone!” Blaine said finally. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

"Waking you up, sleepy head," David responded cheerfully. "What's up with you today?"

"Nothing," Blaine said. “Now go away.”

"Oh no," Wes said, putting two and two together, "it's something with the spy boy! What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," Blaine said again. "That's the problem. I haven't heard from him since Friday and the wedding was yesterday, and it's driving me nuts!"

Wes and David stared at Blaine in disbelief. Was this really what he was moping about? With a quick, knowing glance at each other, both boys tackled Blaine on his bed.

"Are you going to start crying at Warblers practice cause your little spy doesn't text you?" Wes asked, pinning Blaine's right arm behind his back.

"I wonder if Hummel likes his drinks shaken or stirred?" David sneered, going in to tickle Blaine.

"ENOUGH!" Blaine shouted, pushing his friends aside and getting up to grab his phone. There was a moment of awkward silence in which Wes and David wondered if they'd gone to far.

Blaine dissolved the tension by noting, "You guys both say that you're straight, but from the amount of time you spend touching me and/or each other, I would think otherwise." Wes and David collapsed into a fit of giggles on the bed.

"I wonder how much time Blaine spend trying to touch Kurt," David whispered to Wes, earning them a murderous look from Blaine, who cursed before exiting the room.

"Do you think we should stop?" David asked, semi-concerned. Wes looked up as if legitimately thinking about it.

"Nah," he said. "If Blaine's going to act like a depressed Bond, or rather, Hummel girl, we might as well enjoy it."

Blaine sat alone in his dorm that Monday night. No matter how much fun he had at practice, or how many spy jokes Wes and David made, or how many times he used logical reasoning, Blaine could not stop thinking about Kurt, hoping that he hadn't inadvertently ruined their friendship. If Blaine's brain was processing normally, he would have realized that Kurt had had a very busy weekend and that they had gone out to dinner that Friday like they did every Friday. But Blaine's mind was not functioning normally, so he concluded that he had done something to push Kurt away.

He did get one text from Kurt on Sunday night, telling him about the wedding, but that didn't make things any better. Kurt explained how Finn had declared his brotherly love in front of both their families and the entire glee club, sang a song to him, and then danced with him for almost the entire night. Though Blaine was happy that Kurt's brother was so loving and accepting, he undoubtedly felt threatened by this new turn of events. Why couldn't he dance with Kurt? Why couldn't he sing a song to Kurt? Why were his insides doing this flippy thing whenever he even thought of Kurt? The world was full of mysteries, Blaine decided.

As Blaine lay in bed, wallowing in self-pity and avoiding the homework he had to do, there was a knock on his door. He stood up, brushed himself off, and opened it. There, in an adorable red jacket, stood Kurt. But something wasn't right.

Kurt's head was bowed, and as he looked up and met Blaine's eyes, the Warbler noticed wet trails down Kurt's cheeks. Blaine stood there in shocked silence for a few seconds, until Kurt whispered, "He's back. They have no proof. I'm here to stay."

Blaine stopped and let the three sentences that Kurt had just uttered sink in. He looked at Kurt's miserable, stormy eyes, and every feeling he had ever felt towards him welled up in his heart. Blaine opened his arms wide, and Kurt threw himself into Blaine's chest. Blaine had his arms protectively over Kurt's shoulders, and the boys stood like that for a long time. They stayed in the doorway of Blaine's room and clutched each other while Kurt sobbed into Blaine's shoulder and tears slowly trickled down Blaine's nose.

Blaine knew the way it felt. Kurt would have to give up his friends, his family, and his home to avoid the wrath of the bullies, those people who pushed Kurt away because he was different. How could they do that to Kurt, the innocent boy crying against Blaine’s shoulder? Blaine couldn't understand, but he did know something for sure: he would be Kurt's mentor. He would be the friend and companion that helped Kurt through all of his problems, the person Blaine had never had. Even if that meant pushing aside his bubbling, definitely-not-platonic feelings for the boy, Blaine would do it. Right on cue, Kurt shuddered into Blaine's body and rested his head in the crook of Blaine's neck. It was so hard, but Blaine didn't react. He pushed a whirlwind of thoughts out of his mind.

Little did he know, being the mentor is a lot harder than it seems.