All eyes fell on Kurt as soon as he entered the apartment. He thought the living space would be deserted by the time he came home, and instead Santana and Brittany were there as well as his roommates.

"You're all up late," he observed as he locked the door behind him. "And half of you don't live here anymore." He didn't mention how it looked like they were staging an intervention.

"Are you telling me that it's too late at night to be at a friend's apartment?" Santana asked slyly. She made a show of glancing at her wrist despite how it didn't hold a watch.

He felt certain that time functioned differently at Dalton. Work on his script used to be what we went to when he needed to escape or daydream. By selling his show, he inescapably tied it to Mr. Schuester and all the strings attached, making it no longer his escape from reality. The thing that made him happy, that felt exclusively his, became Blaine. He stole away to Dalton at every chance he got for the comfort of having Blaine by his side while he sorted through what to do about his long-held Broadway-bound fantasy becoming a reality.

"You promised to behave if he came back," Mercedes scolded. "Ignore her, Kurt. Are you okay?"

Santana raised her hands to convey her innocence. "I'm just saying. That's a lot of time to spend not having orgasms."

"You think a whole movie is a long time to spend not having orgasms," Brittany pointed out, followed by a smug, knowing little grin that Santana returned.

"Can't take me anywhere."

Just like that, Santana and Brittany were lost into their own little world.

Kurt used the diversion to head to his own bed before they could ask him to stay. His constant repetition of "I'm fine" exhausted him and didn't become more believable with practice. He didn't know what else to say. He knew they worried and he didn't know how to make them stop.

He expected himself to handle this better. Other people wouldn't find reasons to cancel all in-person meetings with the person financing their dreams and stick to phone communication. Getting what he wanted was a new feeling for Kurt, but he suspected these things rarely turned out as anticipated. He postponed rehearsals despite how badly he wanted his show to exist and how necessary rehearsals were to that process. His bumbling gratitude morphed into tense silence where he only said thank you when told to do so. He had to get control of himself and hope Mr. Schuester wouldn't notice before then. He knew what he signed himself up for. He decided it was worth it before he set up their initial meeting. Too late to waver now.

Blaine didn't hold Kurt's outburst against him, assuming it was all his fault that Kurt was upset when Kurt could really only blame himself. For that split second of waking up next to Blaine he lost track of what was real: fantasies of Blaine came fast and fleeting at the littlest provocation from Blaine –the thing he did to straws– but he never intentionally conjured one until he tried to replace his benefactor with the man he thought he was getting on that fateful night they met. His prior resolve to not fantasize about Blaine evaporated the second Schuester's hands were on him. He wished that what he thought was true was actually so, with Blaine flirting instead ofWillgrabbing. It seemed so easy with Blaine when he thought Blaine was his benefactor. He'd been moments away from agreeing to whatever Blaine wanted when reality interrupted.

He still wished it were Blaine.

Kurt settled into bed to let the tension from the day drain away. Time with Blaine comforted him but also left him feeling flushed and flustered as his mind inevitably strayed to the fantasies he had conjured to push Schuester out of his mind. He knew his imagination was vivid but, if the Blaine fantasies were any indication, it really outdid itself when under pressure.

If Blaine were here, Kurt would see if Blaine's real moans sounded anything like his fake ones. Kurt would be okay taking his time; hurrying through wouldn't be an option when he could feel Blaine solid under his fingertips, familiar to him even if the acts were new. In his fantasies Kurt didn't bumble so much. His nerves never got the best of him. There was just him and Blaine and a sense of absolute certainty.

He knew all of Blaine's seductive looks courtesy of their "lessons," but the unguarded looks of joy when he was appreciated stuck with Kurt as the far sexier alternative. He liked to think that joy was closer to Blaine's expression during sex than fake smolder, at least if it was with Kurt. His open expression would let Kurt know exactly how he felt when Kurt touched him, and it wouldn't be just a shade abovebored and unimpressed.

Kurt groaned at his misbehaving, easily distracted mind. He took his hands away from his body. Fantasies were meant to stay fantasies. His benefactor wouldn't morph into Blaine just because he willed it so.

I will not masturbate to real people. I will not masturbate to real people. I will not masturbate to real people,Kurt mentally chanted. He told himself he wouldn't make Blaine into a fantasy, and he meant it to hold true even when he really wanted to get off. Fantasizing about Blaine was bound to make things awkward between them: it already had with the terrifying juxtaposition between what he imagined and Blaine telling him it could be real. Blaine was too sweet to subject to Kurt's mean and defensive streak a second time. He should have picked a celebrity or a movie character he wouldn't have to worry about being awkward around.

Blaine was just so much easier to picture, and he needed to picturesomething.

He pushed the thought of Blaine aside and mentally labeled them as for use in case of emergencies only. Back to Taylor Lautner he went. And if Taylor Lautner was a little smaller (a lot smaller) and his hair styled differently in Kurt's mind, it was just because Kurt hadn't seen one of his movies in ages.

***

Schuester asked what a rewrite that included a love interest would look like. "Gay," Kurt had deadpanned, but that didn't get him off the hook like he thought it might, just Schuester urging him to "be realistic." Crafting the illusion of love was more Blaine's area of expertise than Kurt's, which was how Kurt wound up on a couch in Dalton's common area, tablet in hand, with Blaine leaning in to watch his indecision in action.

Kurt absently tapped away on his tablet. Write a line, delete it. Rewrite a line, delete it. Switch to an entirely different section of the play, reread it, and deem it untouchable. Kurt's interests didn't lie in love stories in the conventional romantic sense. He had no experience in the matter and they seemed overdone. Everyone else had that genre thoroughly covered, and anything he wrote would read like a personal fantasy. There was enough soul bearing already in his writing.

Over the course of Kurt's indecision, Blaine scooted closer and closer until their knees brushed. Kurt generally didn't allow anyone to look over his shoulder while he tried to write but he was asking for Blaine's help and responding to that kindness with distance seemed unfair. He turned to allow Blaine to see better and their knees knocked together.

Dalton was tranquil around them, with Warblers milling in and out without interrupting their companionable silence. In the quieter moments between Kurt's search for a place to fit a love story somewhere, Blaine rested his head against Kurt's shoulder.

On their quiet afternoons like this, it was easy to daydream in the contented silence they shared, leaning into each other and sharing coffee like boyfriends instead of friends.

Kurt tipped his head toward the tablet. "Well, this story is doomed. No one's ever going to get together under our guidance. Can't do anything but unrequited love."

"Like there's not enough longing in the plot," Blaine teased.

"Longing I understand." The oft-given advice of write what you know came to mind. "I know how to act that, at least." He didn't mention making use of the Sexy Lessons since they seemed like a sore spot for Blaine.

"You could make me pine after you. You'll remain, of course, oblivious. Don't have to act a thing."

"You just want more speaking lines." Teasing or not, he liked the idea of giving Blaine more to do: the rest of the cast had their roles carved out for so long that they hadn't found something for Blaine beyond group numbers.

"And it'll give me the chance to tell you how perfect you are every single night and twice when there are matinees."

Kurt laughed even as his heart skipped a beat. Blaine could sell adoration. Putting him in this plot would play to his strengths. "Maybe we can get you your own song. Rachel's not going to let you have hers no matter how much you play it."

"Wecould have a song."

"My solos are for me," Kurt replied automatically even though he knew that wasn't what Blaine meant.

"We should have something that's just ours. Something that doesn't even exist yet."

Kurt shook his head. He had no purpose in a love song with Blaine if he wasn't supposed to reciprocate Blaine's feelings.

"You don't have to ply me with additional stage time to get a song. You'll spare me a plotline I don't want to touch."

"No touching, huh?" Blaine resituated himself on the couch to face Kurt, a playful smile on his lips as they drew closer. Blaine's breath ghosted against his cheek. One heavy breath from Kurt and they'd touch. "Will you be able to look indifferent every time I come close? To tell me you don't want me and make it convincing?"

Kurt closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Blaine wasn't there to meet him like he expected. He cracked an eye open.

"Did I cross a line?" Blaine whispered from where he retreated to. "You got really quiet."

"No. No, you're fine." He liked Blaine close entirely too much. For someone in such a customer-oriented field, Blaine was really bad at reading other people's reactions. Although Kurt's mixed signals would be hard for anyone to interpret. All for the best that Blaine didn't notice Kurt's temporarily loss of control. "As long as you don't pull focus on an actual stage."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing, professional or not."

Kurt stopped himself from sayingI'm sure you're fantastic."Blaine, it's fine. I'm not upset. There's nothing for me to even be upset about."

Blaine dropped his head into his hands with a whine of frustration. "Why am I letting you ask me for advice again?"

"I like that you care. And you still have a better grasp on love than I do, so no giving up on me."

Blaine shook his head. "I was really hell-bent on getting married once," Blaine admitted, peaking from behind his hands. "That's not a grasp onreality, much less love. Only one I was fooling was myself. I see what I want to see."

"Oh my god." Kurt switched to the couch opposite Blaine, kicked one leg over the other so they were perfectly crossed, and dropped his head into his hands, the perfect picture of undivided attention. Nothing cheered up self-doubt quite like realizing questionable decision making was once upon a time even worse. "Okay, ready, go on."

Blaine laughed. "It's so mortifying now.Massamounts of delusion on my part." Blaine gestured emphatically with a self-deprecating eyeroll so intense he moved his head with it. "We weren't even dating. I created this whole fantasy about a regular client and how he must be madly in love with me and we were destined to be together and one day we would live on a yacht."

Kurt held a hand over his mouth to hide the upward twitch of a laugh. Just because it was phrased to be funny didn't mean it was. "Would you have liked that?"

"I get seasick!"

They both burst into giggles. Blaine settled immediately when Trent passed through. Kurt's own giggles tapered off. "Why would you fantasize about something that'll make you sick?"

Blaine looked up to see if they were still being watched before leaning in conspiringly. "In my fantasies, I don't have flaws."

Blaine changed when he was around anyone else. Around the Warblers direct attention, he held himself more stiffly, more respectably, always the blank slate for someone else to write on. Around Kurt's friends, he oscillated between throwing himself into the spotlight with the rest of them, false bravado and all, and sinking into shadows when they got to be too much. He relaxed in private to his silly, affectionate self that Kurt had seen moments before. Kurt would tease Blaine and ask who he really was, but he knew, and he liked knowing Blaine well enough to spot it all. Even if noticing made him want Blaine all to himself even more.

Lighthearted spin or not, Blaine trusted him to listen seriously. "Tell me about the yacht."

Blaine gestured for Kurt to make room on the couch he'd switched to and then pressed against him anyway. "We threw a lot of parties for no discernible reason that required us to dress up and be admired by the guests and brag about our enviable life. I'd meet all his faceless clients who would love me instantly."

Another pretty bauble that connoted status, then.He couldn't imagine hanging his happiness on someone else's ambitions. The thought was an unfair assumption. Kurt had his share of rich bitch fantasies that didn't bother to specify how he got that way. To prove himself wrong, Kurt asked, "And the rest of the time?"

"Never left the bed!"

Kurt couldn't help the eyebrow arch.

"I've scandalized you." Blaine grinned, always teasing and nonverbally pleading with Kurt to please find him endearing.

"It's not my dream. Or at least not all of it." Rachel's confession about her own rechanneled ambition came to mind. How if she couldn't have her dream she'd settle for something easier to obtain.

"Not sure it's mine either. But it made a nice distraction. Even if it was all in my head. Like I said, I'mterribleat figuring out the feelings thing."

Wanting to kiss someone's nose because they were always wrinkling it probably wasn't normal. Kurt looked away. He could appreciate the need for distractions even when they weren't in your best interest. And how mortifying realizing that your hope was actually delusion could be. Despite their very different lives, he and Blaine had a lot in common.

They didn't notice Sebastian draping himself face-first on the leather couch across from them and stuttered his hips into the cushion when the room until he called, "Hey, Blaine, I'm thinking of you."

Blaine looked down to remove Sebastian from his line of vision but didn't respond. Kurt didn't think, just barely processed the tenseness by his side, before snapping, "That's creepy and obviously unwanted."

Sebastian rolled his hips one more time to be a dick.

"It's just a joke," Blaine said softly. He pressed a little closer to Kurt and focused wholeheartedly on the script text.

It irked Kurt that Blaine took issue with being defended instead of with being harassed by an unlikeable, smug poser. He bit back a remark telling Blaine exactly that. He knew berating someone for not standing up for themselves was ten kinds of ironic. He threw his meanest, haughtiest glare in Sebastian's direction. Kurt had no romantic right to get possessive over Blaine, but he didn't want Sebastian anywhere near Blaine.

"Look at that face!" Sebastian laughed. "No wonder your homosexuality's more of an untested theory. Not everyone gets vapors at the hint of sexual prowess, Princess. Blaine's a big boy." Sebastian smirked wickedly as he added, "Where it counts. Which I know, and you don't. Jealous?"

"When Blaine says it's a joke, Sebastian,you'rethe punchline." Kurt snipped.

"You know what else is hilarious? Falling in love with a whore." Sebastian pushed himself upright. "Only question is who's kidding himself more."

Blaine kept pretending to read even after Sebastian left.

"He's just joking," Blaine repeated when Kurt didn't resume writing.

"You don't need to make excuses for him. He's notjustanything but a creep." Kurt hoped that wasn't overstepping. Maybe Blaine didn't mind Sebastian as much as Kurt did and Kurt was projecting onto him. He tried not to interfere with Blaine's job; it wasn't his business. Sex work sounded horrifying and he tried really,reallyhard not to judge – he had no room for it when he made his own questionable decisions – but Sebastian was a creep regardless of profession and Blaine taking money for sex didn't entitle Sebastian to hump anything. The thought of Blaine with Sebastian or anyone else made him worry for Blaine's fragile heart that didn't do love out of self-preservation. Because how could sex be any less harmful to someone who wanted so much to be liked?

A small smile played on Blaine's lips.

Kurt situated back into Blaine's side. Let Sebastian see and think whatever he wanted. "In love" or not, Kurt didn't want to expect anything from Blaine, and Blaine said he didn't want any obligations. Unlike some people, he could respect Blaine's wants.

***

The pleasantness of rehearsals lulled Kurt into a false sense of security. After initially showing the theatre to Kurt, Schuester hadn't asked him for anything. They never mentioned it. Kurt half convinced himself it was a one-time, out of character demand, thought he made sure to address his mentor as "Mr. Schuester" when they spoke.

The next time was almost as much of a surprise.

His friends couldn't hold back their excitement over rehearsals finally starting and waves of giddiness cycled through the group and washed out their usual in-fighting, keeping everyone enthusiastic but easily distracted. They tested the limit on how many exclamations of "we're actually doing this!" they could make. Blaine launched into an instrumental version of an older Taylor Swift song as rehearsal drew to a close for the day and excitement levels were still too high. Santana added vocals as soon as she recognized the tune. Their infectious enthusiasm won the rest of the cast over into providing backup.

Kurt stole a glance in Schuester's direction. Despite the custom-made drama of their initial meeting, Mr. Schuester never objected to Blaine's presence within their troupe. It was as if he forgot the incident entirely.

Blaine got up from the piano to coax Kurt in, squeezing an arm around Kurt's shoulders and over-emphatically singing into his face. Kurt let the silliness of his friends carry him away. He joined in on the repeating "Trouble" chorus and then the exchange of hugs once they reached the end.

Large hands encircled Kurt's waist and pulled him in as everyone started to leave the stage. Kurt resisted elbowing Mr. Schuester away instinctually. He froze stiff as a board instead.

"You kids have your whole lives ahead of you," Mr. Schuester stated almost on the verge of proud tears, "and I'm so honored to be able to help form you in your careers."

Kurt hated being pulled. The possessiveness of it set him on the defensive, the rough touch sending him back to high school – colliding with lockers, dumpster tosses, an attempted swirly from Puck, that horrible kiss with Karofsky. Being manhandled wasn't a good thing.

"That's not something I do," Kurt explained as he tried to pull away from the too-tight embrace. He reminded himself that Schuester meant no harm with his over-familiarity that wouldn't alarm most people. His poor concept of boundaries struck again but he hadn't touched Kurt since that day he handed over the theatre. Of course, Kurt had been really good at avoiding him until now.

"There's a lot you haven't done yet." Mr. Schuester said it like Kurt was supposed to find that sexy. His inexperience wasn't a turn on forhim,though. Mr. Schuester seemed interested enough for both of them.

Kurt braced his hands against Mr. Schuester's chest to maintain some distance. He forced more softness into his voice. "You're making me uncomfortable."

Someone was bound to notice how fake this was, how out of character for him, to be wrapped up in a near-stranger's arms. He had enough judgment from his friends to deal with and a public display confirming what he previously denied was asking for an altercation. They may not pay attention when they were supposed to, but for his friends, anything worth gossiping about was worth observing, no matter how secret it seemed at the time.

"All I'm asking for is a hug, dammit. I didn't say 'get on your knees' in the middle of a theatre. You're notthatinexperienced. I just saw you with them! Why am I different?"

He had no idea what brought on the change in Mr. Schuester. Kurt hadn't said a word to him all rehearsal. He was too wrapped up in goofing off with the rest of the cast to give Mr. Schuester something that could be confused with flirting. He didn't even bumble through his once-customary over-enthused thanks to Mr. Schuester for making the show happen. Kurt felt a twinge of shame for being so ungrateful and incapable of setting his issues aside long enough for something as simple as a hug.

He'd feel worse if Schuester ever let go long enough to let the contact between them be Kurt's choice.

Kurt pushed back against Mr. Schuester's attempts to bring him closer. The loss of control unnerved him most. The air felt too thin in the theatre. Kurt gulped. "Just stop for a moment! Let go!" Panic always sent his voice higher. Kurt stumbled back when Mr. Schuester released him.

"You are embarrassing us both," Mr. Schuester hissed. "Grow up."

Kurt regained his footing while Mr. Schuester disappeared down the wings.

Blaine caught his eye. Kurt's face burned, but thankfully Blaine was already taking Mercedes and Rachel's arms and declaring his deep, sudden desire for ice cream, dead of winter be damned, and how they should leave before it got even colder outside. Kurt felt so weirdly, absurdly grateful for Blaine's small kindness.

If Mr. Schuester was a boyfriend, Kurt would just break up with him and cry about it later. He had conditions. He didn't think his standards were all that high: privacy, some affection first, bodily autonomy. Dumping Mr. Schuester was not an option. He had to make amends for being rude. Get back into Mr. Schuester's good graces. There was no more room left for self-sabotage.

Don't yank. Don't scowl. If you want to be an actor then act.He followed Mr. Schuester through the wings, cursing himself for escalating Mr. Schuester's demands. If he didn't overreact he might have been able to get away with an awkward hug and nothing more. Now Mr. Schuester had something to prove.Think of your Tony Award,Kurt pleaded with himself.Think of the magazine article forVanity Fair.The interview and performance onEllen.You want to get on that stage somehow. Don't get in your own way.

"You're not focused today," Mr. Schuester scolded as soon as he saw Kurt. "It's like you don't care about the show at all."

Kurt ignored the criticism and cut to what he assumed was the root of the problem. "I'm inexperienced. Sexually. You know that." His hands fluttered as he smoothed down his outfit, a sign of the shy awkwardness that he regressed to when nervous. "I've been so focused on my work. I didn't make the time for it. I don't know what I'm doing."

The retelling of his life story that sounded straight out of a porno-plotline wasn't an apology but Mr. Schuester took it as such. "We can change that."

***

Kurt furiously scrubbed his hands after locking himself in the women's bathroom. They always stocked better soap and that, at least, was a comfort.

Why didn't he think to insist on a condom? What kind of idiot was he to not prepare? He could give himself leeway on a lot of things, like thinking that trading sex for fame would be easy for him if he was determined enough, but he thought he had a decent understanding of consequences.

The Real Will Schuester made a terribly rude awakening in comparison to the charming benefactor as played by Blaine Warbler in Kurt's mind. How self-important did a man have to be to think his own semen grantedknowledge? Something about a tribe in New Guinea. Shirking back from his own hand as Mr. Schuester shoved it toward his face with that piece of trivia recalled memories of bullies who thought it was hilarious to make him hit himself.

It's not true," Kurt had insisted." Someone came up with it in order to get . . ." if his hand wasn't unclean, he would have smacked himself. Kurt was smart enough to cut himself off before saying "blowjobs." He did not need to plant any more ideas.

At least he had the fantasy of Blaine to cling to. Kurt's overactive imagination – and how copiously he'd used it lately to conjure Blaine – proved useful in that regard. It was like he went somewhere else entirely.

Kurt permitted himself one more fantasy in the locked women's bathroom: Blaine guiding his hand under the stream of water with his own, keeping Kurt from putting himself back to normal alone. Enveloped completely, Blaine's chin tucked over his shoulder and murmuring seductively – despite what they'd just done together – while soaping up both their hands, making promises for the future. He imagined the kind of self-satisfied grin Blaine would wear carefully rubbing their skin clean before bringing Kurt's hand to his lips for a reverent kiss.

Blaine's affectionate touches requesting attention never bothered Kurt. Blaine took such care with him. Even the missteps into inappropriateness came out earnestly.

Fantasy Blaine wasn't actually that different from the reality. Once he got past the occupation, and the general cluelessness when it came to reading people, Blaine was exactly what Kurt was looking for. His biggest requirement for a romantic interest was alwaysnice, after all, and Blaine was so sweet to him. The picture of everything he wanted in a relationship – patience, affection, communication –matched everything he knew he'd get with Blaine.

Kurt's hands shook for a new reason.

He didn't want to be the ridiculous lovesick kid pining after the unattainable fantasy he built Blaine up to be. That didn't seem like his role in relation to Blaine, though. For one, he wasn't a kid in comparison to Blaine: he learned that he was actually older if they wanted to quibble over months, which seemed like a silly thing to do anyway. Despite how often Kurt tried not to fantasize about him, the Blaine he saw wasn't a mere fantasy. He knew Blaine. He couldn't make someone like Blaine up.

He fled from the deserted theatre and found himself in front of Dalton. The thought of Blaine comforted him but it paled in comparison to his actual presence.

"Kurt again? You're always here." Sebastian smirked from his perch on the council's table. "Did someone let slip that Blaine'll give it up for free if you tell him he's pretty first?"

"Don't be unkind," Wes scolded before Kurt could respond. "Kurt, you'll have to wait around or come back later. Blaine's with a client."

"Can you ask him to call me when he's – sometime later?" With that, all Kurt had to do was wait.

***

Down at a corner shop Kurt touched nearly every bouquet they had before he settled on one that felt right and fit the intended recipient. Part of him rationalized, while he was outside in the cold, that waiting outside of Dalton let Blaine come to him when he was ready rather than forcing his company as soon as he came down the stairs, and the other part appreciated the physical numbness. Kurt didn't account for the man who almost stumbled over him as he swung open the doors on the way out. Kurt scrambled out of the way, covering his head with his hands, and tailed out of there in the opposite direction without looking back. He decided then that he shouldn't show up empty handed anyway, and he could use help conveying his intentions.

Blaine dashed down the steps at Dalton just as Kurt returned. If Kurt was still in his original spot he'd be dodging another foot to the head.

"Kurt! I'm sorry; I should have realized you'd want to talk after rehearsal. I wouldn't have taken a client if I'd known you'd be here." Regret tinged his voice. Blaine cast a shy, hurried glance at the roses in Kurt's hand before looking back up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk? Do you want to come inside?"

Kurt watched Blaine pretend he didn't want or notice the flowers while fussing over him but was obvious he was curious. He kept glancing hopefully at them.

"I don't think my problem with Will can be chalked up to inexperience. He's not who I want." He locked eyes with Blaine to gauge if Blaine caught his meaning.

Blaine wore the same cautiously optimistic expression. He must have concluded the flowers were for him by now. Kurt couldn't stand waiting for presents and if he were Blaine, he would have snatched them up ages ago. Blaine waited for permission.

"You said you shy away from the romantic but I thought I'd push my luck." Kurt gestured to the flowers.

Blaine gingerly accepted the bouquet as if the roses were fragile and the petals could fall at the slightest jostle. He lit up with the flowers in hand. Kurt could tell the instant he gave himself over to being happy that the gift was his, not some else's, and wasn't going to be taken away.

"Kurt. They're beautiful." Blaine bashfully tipped his head into the buds and inhaled. "Is there someone you do want? Something?"

Kurt smiled fondly. Even with the flowers – roses, a decidedly romantic gesture – Blaine needed to be chosen. Absolutely, unequivocally, wanted with no room for an alternate interpretation. Kurt was beginning to understand Blaine's own insecurities.

Kurt dropped to one knee.

"What . . . what are you doing?" Blaine looked around as if Kurt could be on bended knee for anyone else on the deserted street.

"Asking nicely.For a date," Kurt clarified. For once Blaine had all the nerves and Kurt felt steady, sure of what he was doing. "Will you, Blaine Warbler, go out with me?"

The confusion didn't vanish. "It's Anderson," Blaine said absently, face tipped back into the red and yellow bouquet.

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt repeated, testing out the sound of it on his tongue. He could get used to saying that name. Already getting to know Blaine better at they hadn't even had a date yet.

"Where's this coming from? I mean, I . . . I don't understand and I can't give you what you want if I don't know what that is."

"Earlier – when I was with Will," Kurt corrected because his tendency toward coyness wouldn't help get his meaning across and Blaine needed it put as plainly as possible. He deserved to know. "I was thinking of you."

Kurt confessed more about his fantasies to Blaine than anyone. He expected – Blaine wouldn't condescend to him but he still expectedsomerecoil. He didn't expect to hear "Oh my God, me too!"

Kurt covered his mouth. "Not like – okay, yes, like that, but . . . Oh, this is so inappropriate!" He had a plan for this discussion, and in the plan he didn't sound like a pervert.

Blaine's cheerful demeanor retreated. "Does that upset you? You said it first so I thought it would be okay." Blaine's grip tightened around the roses. "It's just a nice thought."

The thought of Blaine with the guy who almost kicked his head in didn't thrill Kurt in the least. Blaine imagininghaving relationswith him was equal parts flattering and embarrassing anddistracting. Kurt traced his hand along his collar. His voice pitched higher, breathier as he tried to focus back on the present. He'd had enough with fantasies. "I shouldn't have. Yes, it happened, but thinking of you like that isn't the point of what I was trying to get at. Or new. This is coming out all wrong."

He probably should have rehearsed this speech first. Talking about sex seemed too forward for a relationship that hadn't begun, but the topic of sex, and Kurt's avoidance thus far, came up too often for them to side step it if they were going to talk about what they wanted out of a relationship.

Blaine ghosted fingertips over rose petals while he waited.

Kurt tried again. "Thinking of you sexually is easy, Blaine, and easy enough to ignore if I didn't think we had something else in addition to superficial attraction. Picturing you was a comfort to me.Youcomfort me. You get my idiosyncrasies. I get why you have yours, too. I wouldn't ask too much of you."

"I know you won't."

Kurt's lipped quirked at the tense change out of conditional to something certain. "You have your job and I have my questionable ways of securing funding and that makes anything between us unconventional. But I've been thinking a lot about what I want beyond, you know, fame and fortune. And if I'm allowed to want one more thing, I want it to be you."

Kurt winced at his stumbled wording: Blaine wasn't a thing, and object, something to acquire. Blaine didn't seem to notice. He rocked forward. "Can I kiss you? Please?"

Kurt nodded. A bouquet of roses and a few promises couldn't quell all Blaine's fears of getting lost in someone else's desires. Yet here he was, reaching for Kurt so readily on the chance that something between them wouldn't end in disaster.

Kurt met him more than halfway.