The problem, Kurt found, with planning an action and then waiting before being able to follow through on that plan was the awful lag between the two. The lag time became a playground for his inner dialogue to take journeys into waters he thought he had already mastered. The questions, the doubts, the self-flagellation for being so vulnerable, And the anger, dear god the anger, all came crashing into his steely resolve. His plan to listen. To forgive. To understand.

So, by the time he got to the office, he had twisted back into a silent rage – seething, impatient and thoroughly unpleasant to be around. He’d already snapped at Dot and been short with a potential CPR student on the phone. If Dot hadn’t needed him, he’d have gone home to take out his aggressions on uncooperative fabric manufacturers and design directors. He was never sure of their humanity anyway, so a little abuse could be rewarding.

“…was completely screwed up on this fire Saturday, so we’re doing another training. I need copies of all of the forms – 25 of each. Can you manage that without biting someone’s head off?”

Kurt looked up from his computer. “Yes. Dot. I think I can handle being your Girl Friday without blistering our image.”

“You know, I’m sorry things ended up this way, Kurt. But if you ask me…”

“Which I didn’t.”

“…you’re being unreasonable. And frankly, your attitude is concerning me. If we have a fire…”

“I’ll be polite and professional. I’m not an idiot. I’m just…” Kurt started digging through his files for the paperwork to begin the tedious copying process. “…I don’t know how to approach this. And I have to approach it.” He tossed the documents on his desk and sighed, easing when he saw the concern in Dot’s eyes. “He might have gloriously screwed up, but I left town. Even if I wanted to stick with this, it’s clear we’re both too stupid to make it work.”

“That’s quite possible. You’re both pretty dumb. Oh, did I tell you? I met his son. He’s darli-.”

“Stop. I don’t want any editorials on this child. I need to talk to Blaine first before I get my emotions all wrapped up in it.”

“Honey, it’s too late for that. Your emotions were shot the moment you laid eyes on him.”

“Stop reminding me. Do I need to schedule meeting space for this training?”

“Yeah, the firehouse was perfect.”

Kurt chuffed. “Of course it was.”

Dot left to run errands and Kurt grabbed the paperwork and headed down the narrow hall to the copier. At least he could drown in the white noise of the machine, not able to hear the phone or really much of anything.

Like someone coming in.

Someone like Blaine.

He did, however, feel his presence immediately – so immediately that he didn’t have time to put on his proper bitch face. Instead, he rolled his eyes and looked away, saying nothing.

“Hi.”

Kurt lifted his head in acknowledgement and said nothing, pretending to be enthralled with the digital command center of the copy machine.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m here to ask you to at least listen.”

“Not here. Not now.”

“You’re not even going to look at me?”

Kurt took a breath and fixed his face firm, turning to aim his eyes at Blaine, because actually looking at him? Not an option. He’d crumble. “Not here. Not now.” And then he turned back to the copier.

“Fine. Where and when? This has gone on too long.”

“It wouldn’t have gone on at all had you just been honest with me from the beginning now, would it?”

“But, I wasn’t. I’m trying to make it right.”

Kurt slammed the stack of papers in his hand on the top of the machine, the crack echoing through the skinny hallway, jolting Blaine out of his firm stance. Finally, finally Kurt looked at Blaine – really looked, scowling, searing holes into his skin. “When exactly were you planning on telling me, Blaine?”

Blaine could only sputter.

“And, I just have to ask…where the hell were you keeping him, huh? Did you lock him up in a cage?”

“He’s…he’s been at his grandmothers’. They kept him so I could get moved and get his room set up and…and work extra hours so I could get to know my crew. And I’m sor-…”

“And have a little play thing on the side while you had some free time?”

Blaine gasped and took the length of the hallway toward Kurt in quick, long steps. “Kurt! No! Is that what you thi-…is that what you think of me? Of us?” He reached out to touch Kurt’s arm, to bring him face to face, but Kurt stiffened shooting a glare of warning.

“Don’t! Touch me.” Kurt held his stance until Blaine backed up a step.

“Kurt, please. You can’t believe…I would never…why would you think such a thing?”

“I don’t know what to think, Blaine. Everything you said sort of rearranged itself when I learned the truth.” Kurt tried to busy himself with the task of copying, fumbling with the controls, anything, but his ability to focus or concentrate was completely lost. Dot was right; his emotions were already completely wrapped up, twisted, tangled and slowly – fraying.

“There is no reason…Kurt…” Blaine ran his fingers through his hair, utter frustration heating up the tight hallway. “For the love of god, would you at look at me?” Kurt dared to side-eye him, his resolve diffusing a hair’s breadth when he saw the pain, the anguish in Blaine’s eyes. “Nothing. Nothing I said to you, nothing I feel about you changes because I have a son. Not a word. Not a moment.”

“Maybe it does for me…”

“Then you have to work that out, but for me – there was not…look.” Blaine sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, daring to take a step closer again, but stopping short when he got another warning glare. “I didn’t come to Lima looking for a partner. This move was huge enough. I didn’t want one. I wasn’t interested in dating, none of it. But then…there you were. You were just doing your job, but the moment you grabbed my wrist and looked at me…and saw me…I realized…Kurt, I’ve been looking for you forever.”

Kurt looked away and changed documents in the copier, pushing the right button, grateful for the white noise that drowned out the voices in his head telling him 10,000 confusing tales. “Well, here’s some advice, Blaine. When you find someone like that again? Because I’m sure you will...I suggest you opt for full disclosure up front. He’ll appreciate it.”

“Are you hearing me? I never meant to hurt you!”

“What did you think keeping something like that from me would do, Blaine!?”

“I have no idea, Kurt. I clearly don’t know what I’m doing. I just…please meet with me. So I can explain. So maybe you can understand.”

“What can be said that will change anything?” Kurt leaned back against the counter as the copier ran, arms crossed tightly, legs crossed at the ankles – closed off but for the strained conversation. “Blaine, here’s the thing.” He sighed at Blaine’s pleading gaze, his rage dissipating into simple irritation. “I…don’t like children. I don’t want children. I border on hating children. I will not. I do not. I refuse to date dads. Period.”

Blaine’s face fell, his shoulders fell, his entire stance fell. When he dared look up again, their eyes met, the sadness in Kurt’s matching his own. “Okay. You’re right. Nothing I say will change that. But, I don’t want you to resent me. I want you to know, without question, that you matter to me. I know I royally fucked it up. I just want you to know my story.”

Blaine closed the space between them and finally touched, grasping Kurt’s forearm. Kurt squeezed his eyes closed but put his hand over Blaine’s, unable to speak, grateful when Blaine continued. “Please let me explain.”

They stood there for long moments, Kurt mulling his decision, catching desperate glances, tears threatening, the copier stopping its work, leaving them in heavy silence.

“Can you get a sitter tonight?”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s arm and pulled free reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “I already have one.”

“Over confident?”

“Prepared.”

Kurt couldn’t fight the smile, the staid chief shining through the heart of Blaine. “You know the place up on North Main? Breadstix?”

“I’ve driven by it…6 o’clock?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“I can pick you up…”

“This isn’t a date, Blaine. I’ll meet you.”

Blaine nodded and typed the appointment in his phone while Kurt flipped documents, starting the copier again, sorting the stacks he’d already printed. He had to cut this off or he was going to do something he’d regret.

Like kiss him. Which was what had started this whole mess to begin with.

“So. Tonight.” Blaine lingered and Kurt kept working, dismissing him with his silence. “I’ll…yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Blaine. I’m agreeing to listen. Period.”

“And I’m grateful. So, thank you.”

***

Kurt arrived at the restaurant first and snagged a booth in the corner before the dinner rush made prime seating an impossibility. He ordered water with lemon for himself, a water with two lemons and an extra for Blaine. And then he rolled his eyes at himself that he knew what Blaine would order, that minuscule details of Blaine’s persona were already infused with his own.

Once Blaine arrived they small talked about the weather, the restaurant, the tedium of their days and they finally placed their orders, both fidgety and shifty-eyed.

And then, without warning, Blaine started. “Why did you run?”

Kurt swallowed the water he’d be drinking and paused. “I thought I was here to listen tonight.”

“It's easier to ask questions than give answers. I thought I'd sneak in first while I could.”

Kurt nodded and mulled his words carefully, not that he didn’t have an answer, but that he just wasn’t sure how to tackle this evening at all, no less his fault in the whole debacle. “Can I tell you a story?”

“If it answers my question.”

“It does.”

“I’m listening.”

“You see…I met this guy. He was…the ying to my yang. This guy…our chemistry was so hot that I took his pants off less than 30 minutes after meeting him.”

Blaine laughed. “Is that why I…he…almost passed out? Chemistry?”

“That’s my story and I’d stick with it if I were yo-…him. Saves a ton of embarrassment later on.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I’m going to rant…in a really cheesy way, by the way.”

“I’m still listening.”

“Seriously, I don’t do this often, so you need to enjoy this while you can.”

“I’m listening. You’re dawdling.”

Blaine’s easy smile would have tripped him up if he allowed it. Instead, Kurt opted for another swig of water and a silent prayer to whomever might be listening. “Right. So, this guy…and I. Me. We. We jumped into a sweeping affair. It was glorious. It was please stay the night and let’s go dancing and come over and nap with me. It was peach milkshakes and come back safe when he’d have to go put out fires. Real fires. With real people. A living, breathing hero.”

Kurt paused to gather more thoughts and a sip of water trying desperately not to get taken in again with Blaine’s earnest, hopeful, pleading eyes. Eyes that had just ducked away from his gaze.

“We danced in our underwear and texted about hundred year old cartoons and he’d come running when he’d get pleas of if you don’t save me from the stress of my job I’m going to jump in front of a bus…that is, if he wasn’t busy saving someone else, which he sometimes was. Which was really hot.

“I hadn’t felt that way about someone since high school.” Kurt stopped to catch his breath, to take in this man before him that had loved him so completely and then hurt him so deeply, all within a matter of weeks. “I was looking ahead at my life, and...he was there. All the way. That fast.”

“Oh god, Kurt…”

Kurt closed his eyes and lifted his hand to stop Blaine from speaking another word. “Every minute of every day, I felt warm like I was wrapped in blankets and love…even when I was just walking down the street or threading a needle or sketching a sleeve. I lived in a constant state of bliss.

“And then, someone came along and yanked the blankets right off of me. And instead of lying in a warm bed, I was sinking into a steaming vat of shit. And the worst part? The person who pulled the blankets off and was holding them over my head?”

Blaine’s head was bowed, his eyes closed, this breath snatched like the blankets of Kurt’s story. “Was me.”

“Yes, you. Laughing at my stupidity. At my vulnerability and naiveté. I felt played, Blaine. And betrayed and taken advantage of…like I was the child.”

“But, I didn’t…Kurt I’ve told you…”

Kurt put his hand up. “I know. I’m…trying…to know, but that’s where I was when I ran. When I hung up the phone. I didn’t really know you. For all I knew, your sincerity and bullshit really did live close together. Maybe you played political games in your personal life as well as your professional one. I really didn’t know; I just blindly trusted. What I did know and believe felt like it had just been ripped and shredded right in front of me.”

“Do you still believe that? That I betrayed you? Because, I screwed up, I did, but Kurt…I felt all those things, too. All of it. I’ve never been so wrapped up, so fast.”

“I don’t know. Like I said…I’m trying. Because no one should be that good of an actor.”

“I’m…sorry. I just…” Blaine looked up, eyes wet and pleading. “You have to believe me, Kurt.”

“I’m trying, Blaine. But that’s why. That’s why I ran. Why I did stupid, stupid things in New York because, you know, just running and not talking to you first wasn’t stupid enough.”

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” Kurt thought for a beat and sighed. “Although if we’re going to be laying it all out on the table, maybe you should.”

“Maybe I should.”

“Shit.” Kurt fidgeted again, debating the wisdom of coming clean. And feeling dirty in the process. “I hooked up with an old friend while I was there.”

Anger flared in Blaine’s eyes and he sat back, disconnecting from the conversation while the waitress set their appetizers in front of them, more perky than either had the patience for. “This weekend? Is he just someone you have hanging around the fringes for when you get pissy?”

“Pissy? Isn't that a bit reductive?”

“I’m not always fair when I’m the one feeling betrayed.”

Shit. “Fair enough. And no…he’s a friend. Who I have slept with a couple of times when our lives turn to shit. He cut that off this weekend because apparently, he thinks I’m better than that.”

“Are you?” Blaine’s caramel eyes seemed to turn to a fiery amber and Kurt swore he felt the heat of it.

“Yes Blaine, I am. And I hate what I did. I just wanted you to hurt like I did.”

“Congratulations. You just succeeded.”

“Yay.”