Kurt was sitting on his windowsill a little before Blaine was supposed to meet him. He could hear a neighbor down the row fighting outside again, and he hoped they would take it inside; it was the third time this week and was growing increasingly annoying and embarrassing.

His thoughts about the Berry’s and their soap opera worthy fights were cut off by the sight of Blaine opening his window. Kurt watched as Blaine stuck his legs through first and wiggled his body through the opening, causing his shirt to ride up- he couldn’t help but to stare at the expanse of stomach lightly smattered with dark hair that was revealed to him.

He was brought back at the sound of Blaine’s voice.

“Kurt, I think I’m stuck.” Kurt’s eyes snapped up to Blaine’s and let out a loud laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Blaine cried out, struggling to free himself. “I’m seriously stuck on my window!”

“Hold still,” Kurt giggled. “I’m coming over.”

Kurt carefully made his way over to assess the problem, quickly realizing that he’d have no choice but to stand close in the limited space, which proved distracting in more than one way. He kept his mind focused on the task at hand, trying not to let his eyes wander to the strip of skin still visible and now just to the left of his hand.

“Can you see where I’m stuck? I think it’s my jeans.”

Blaine was still partly inside the window and he was trying to lift his head enough to see what was going on. Kurt smirked out of amusement and sat on his knees to try and see where Blaine was caught; it didn’t take him long to find that just behind Blaine’s knee his jeans were caught on part of the windowsill.

“How did you even do this?” Kurt wondered aloud. “I’m going to have to move your leg so you don’t rip your jeans more.”

Kurt blushed furiously as he worked carefully to unhook the fabric, never having had this much physical contact with anybody outside of his family before. Blaine had gone quiet, and Kurt hoped he wasn’t thinking he was a freak, -the other boys in school had started calling him that, and he was beginning to think it was true. Finally detaching the caught thread, Kurt let go of Blaine’s leg as soon as he could.

“You’re free!” He said, backing off to his awning.

Blaine slid the rest of the way through his window, murmuring his thanks and looking sheepish.

“Don’t mention it,” Kurt said, sitting down and crisscrossing his legs. “Just try not to get stuck again.”

Blaine smiled, “I’ll try not to.”

Kurt opted to look at his hands instead of the other boy.

“I’ll do anything to keep clothes safe but I might not always be around to save them for you.”

He heard Blaine hum in amusement and sit down directly across from him.

“Anything? Do you take clothes that seriously?”

“Of course I do. Clothes are wearable art; it’s how I express myself. I take that very seriously.”

Kurt looked up and was granted with seeing Blaine smile. It was unlike anything he’d seen before; his whole face lit up from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners to how his mouth twitched up at one side, making it impossibly wider. Kurt’s stomach clenched and unclenched rapidly, and he blanched at thinking of what that might mean.

“I guess that makes sense.”

Blaine eyed Kurt, he could tell that he dressed himself well; it was one of the first things he noticed about the boy. Everything about him was pretty, so why wouldn’t his clothes be too? He tried to rid himself of those thoughts as his mother’s words echoed in his head –boys aren’t supposed to think other boys are pretty. He noticed Kurt still looking at him and smiled weakly.

“So, if you’ve lived here an entire year, how come I’ve never seen you?” Kurt asked.

The sudden change of subject threw Blaine. His brow furrowed, and he looked at this hands.

“I get sent off to Dalton every year. It’s my br- dad’s alma mater.”

He’d almost slipped and said brother. It wasn’t a lie, it was his father’s alma mater, but it was Cooper’s too. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to go back next year. Despite the overall appeal of the school, he’d hated Dalton from the moment he’d been told he had no choice but attend, and now he only hated it more. Cooper was everywhere. He couldn’t handle it.

Blaine didn’t realize he’d gone quiet until Kurt’s hand was on his shoulder, and Kurt was giving him a concerned look.

“I can change the subject, if you’d like. I did ask you to come out here for a reason.”

Kurt wanted to see Blaine smile again –he looked sad and almost dejected. He wouldn’t have asked if he had known Blaine could look that sad. There was obviously something wrong, but Kurt wouldn’t press; that wasn’t his style and besides, they had just met. He didn’t want to drive the only boy who didn’t look at him strangely away. Blaine looked gratefully back at him.

“Please?” he said quietly.

Kurt gave him a small smile.

“Of course. I figured that since I never see you around that you’ve never really stayed around long enough to see.:

A spark of excitement lit up Kurt’s chest. He loved sitting out here when the sun set, and he always had a perfect view between the row houses straight to the beach.

“See what?”

Kurt pointed straight ahead. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was filling with vivid colors that reflected off the water. They stayed silent, watching the yellows turn to deep oranges and light pinks then deep purples until the sky was black and the moon and stars rose over their heads.

They laid on their backs and watched the night sky, not speaking, but not really feeling the need to. Kurt turned his head to watch Blaine, who was still looking up.

“Do you ever think of how small we are?” Kurt whispered, just loud enough to hear. “Sometimes, looking at the stars makes me feel almost insignificant.”

Blaine continued to look up, his eyes shining with tears, and answered so low Kurt almost didn’t catch what he’d said.

“All the time.”

“How old are you?”

Kurt had been wondering since they’d met; Blaine was small and bubbly but after you talked to him, he seemed older than he looked.

“I’m fourteen. How about you?” Blaine said, turning his head to face Kurt.

“I’m fourteen too.” Kurt said, smiling at Blaine.

It was too bad Blaine went to Dalton, he could use a friends going into his first year of high school. Blaine looked back up at the stars.

“What are the schools like around here?”

Kurt looked back up too.

“They’re pretty bad. It’s not challenging, and the people aren’t the nicest.”

Not really wanting to think about it, Kurt sighed. Blaine breathed out a quiet, oh, and nothing more was said on the subject.

Kurt’s back had begun to hurt from the hard shingles, and he had to assume Blaine’s was too.

“It’s getting late, I should go back inside.” Kurt said, sitting up and stretching his back. “My mom doesn’t like me staying out here for too long.”

Blaine sat up too, and rubbed his eyes.

“I’m not even sure my parents are home.” Blaine said, trying not to look at Kurt’s body as he stretched. Kurt’s eyebrow raised in question, and Blaine scrambled for an excuse to keep talking.

“T-they go out. A lot. O- on business or business related dinner parties. I’m never invited.” He spluttered.

Kurt looked borderline bewildered.

“What? They just leave you by yourself?” He asked.

“They have since I was old enough to reach the stove without assistance.”

Blaine shrugged his shoulders –it was normal to him.

“No offense, but that’s crazy.”

Kurt was looking at him like it was the strangest thing he’d ever heard, and maybe it was. However, it didn’t justify what he said next:

“Come over for dinner tomorrow. I’ll have my mom make extra.”

The offer definitely didn’t have anything to do with how Blaine made Kurt’s stomach feel.

Blaine looked touched, but wary.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to, but I don’t want to impose.”

Kurt smiled.

“I’m sure. My mom would adore you.” Kurt flushed bright red as he realized what he’d just said. He quickly looked at Blaine through his periphery and saw that he was blushing too.

“Yeah, okay. When should I come over?” Blaine was smiling again.

“We usually eat at five-thirty, so come around to the back door about five-fifteen?” Kurt was already thinking of what he and his mom would make for Blaine.

Blaine nodded and they went to their separate windows.

“Kurt! One more thing –where’s the back door?” He asked, opening his window and turning around to face Kurt.

“It’s right underneath me,” Kurt said, smiling and biting his bottom lip, before calling out again, “-and Blaine? Try going in feet first, like this.”

Kurt sat on his windowsill and turned, sliding his legs through first, followed by the rest of his body. He stuck his head back through the window, looking expectantly at Blaine.

“Your turn.” Kurt said softly.

Blaine looked a little slack jawed, and truth is that he was.

He’d never seen somebody bend like that, willing himself to ignore all thoughts of Kurt’s possible flexibility that that small demonstration had teased him with and all the feeling it had sparked in his groin.

“O-okay, I’ll try.” He breathed, more to himself than to Kurt.

He lifted himself onto his windowsill and stuck his legs through first. His feet didn’t quite hit the floor, but he figured he’d be okay as he pushed the rest of his body through. He tried to twist around like Kurt has, but fell uncomfortably to the floor. He quickly stood back up and stuck his head through his window.

Kurt was laughing but seemed glad to see Blaine was otherwise unscathed. A blush rose in Blaine’s cheeks as Kurt laughed, but he found the noise pleasant, high and lilting and almost musical.

“Goodnight, Blaine.”