Blaine got off the phone with Kurt and sighed.  What a fail of a conversation.  He pushed himself off his bed and walked slowly out to the living room, trailing his hand along the wall.  Sam was spread out on the couch, feet propped up on the ottoman, looking like he just got out of bed.

“What's wrong, dude?  You look like someone stole your puppy.”

“Kurt was texting me from work to kill time, and I called him and got all serious and sentimental, and I kind of screwed things up.  I mean, not totally, but it definitely didn't go the way I planned.”  Blaine sat down next to Sam, who set his laptop aside and put his arm around Blaine's shoulder companionably.

“What did you plan?”  Sam asked.

“I guess that's the problem, I didn't really think it through.  I mean, I told him I called him because I wanted to hear his voice, which was true, of course-”

“Of course, he's got an awesome voice,” Sam agreed.

“But then I started talking about stuff that happened after the accident, when I was in the hospital.  How much it mattered to me that he was there, even if it might not have seemed like it at the time.  I was trying to make him feel better, but I think I just made him feel worse.”  Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and snuggled into Sam's chest.  “I just want to go back to sleep and forget it happened.”

“I've tried that, it doesn't actually work.”

“I know, but a man can dream.”  Blaine sighed.  “I need to figure out how to make our relationship less like a daytime soap opera.”

“I don't know, doesn't Kurt like reality tv?  That stuff's pretty dramatic.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't want it to be his own reality.  Kurt's never going to want to be with me if I'm just whining all the time, and bringing up all the stuff we got wrong in the past.”

“Come on, Blaine.  I can't believe you were whining.  And I thought you said Kurt wanted you guys to talk about things, even if they were painful?”

“He did, but, oh, I don't know.  It just didn't go well.  Take my word for it.”  Blaine picked up the string of Sam's hoodie and rubbed the knot between his fingers, then brushed Sam under his chin with it.

“Stop it, that tickles,” Sam said, bending his neck to look down at Blaine.  “If you really want a tickle fight, you're on.  But I thought we were on a ‘figure out how to fix your mess' mission.”

“No, you're right, we are.  I do need to fix it.  Will you help me?”

“Of course, dude, duh.  But I still don't understand what you think went wrong,” Sam pointed out.  “Try to explain it to me, and maybe that will give us an idea about what to do next.”

Blaine thought for a minute.  He really had just wanted Kurt to know how he appreciated the way Kurt spoke to him, the way Kurt heard him.  But for Kurt, apparently, that issue was all wrapped up with their break-up and Kurt's regret about not being able to help Blaine more.  “I was just trying to compliment Kurt, and emphasize our connection, but it turned into a conversation about the break-up, which hits a million different buttons for both of us.  And then I kind of wanted to talk about that, but that topic is definitely on our list, so we really couldn't get into it on the spur of the moment.”

“So it's not that you guys aren't going to talk about all of that eventually, it was just too heavy a conversation for this morning?”  Sam summarized.

“Exactly.  It was too heavy, he wasn't prepared, and I upset him.  I shouldn't have brought up that stuff during a casual conversation, it was too much of a downer.  He's not going to want to be with me if every conversation is a tear-filled drama fest.”

“I think you're being a little too hard on yourself,” Sam said firmly.  “Kurt obviously wants to be with you.  And, as I've already pointed out,” Sam adopted his professor voice, “you both know difficult topics are going to arise, and you have agreed to discuss them.”

“I know,” Blaine said, laughing a little at Sam.  “He did ask me on another date at the end of the conversation.”

“See?  What are you so worried about?”  Sam poked Blaine a few times in the arm for emphasis.

“I don't know,” Blaine moaned.  “Sam, I just want him to like me.”  It sounded so simple, put that way, but as soon as Blaine said it he knew was true.  Underneath everything, he just wanted Kurt to like him. 

“You're nuts.  You know damn well that he likes you.  Just relax.  You guys have both gone through a lot.  You'll work all this out.”

“I guess.”  Blaine pouted, aware it was just for his own benefit since Sam couldn't see his face anyway, since it was currently pressed against Sam's chest.  But it made him feel marginally better.  “We haven't even been able to get together all week.  Kurt's doing all this emergency work for Isabelle, and you and I have been volunteering at night, and our schedules don't match up at all.”  At the time the hospital had asked Blaine about scheduling for the summer he hadn't had any reason not to want to spend his evenings there, and since Sam usually came along with him, it wasn't a big deal.  But it wasn't very conducive to an actual social life.

Sam rubbed his back comfortingly.  “It'll be okay.  Try not to make it so heavy next time.  Just show him how you feel.”  Sam untangled himself from Blaine and got up off the couch.  “I've got to run over to Professor Martin's, but it won't take long.  We can brainstorm when I get back.”

Blaine suddenly knew what he wanted to do.  “Sam, that's it!  You're a genius.”

Two hours later, Blaine texted Kurt.  Sam sat next to him, holding up his hands with all his fingers crossed.

From Blaine:  Good news.  I talked to Maria at the hospital and changed my volunteering schedule around.  I'm free for the NYADA thing, and I'm free tonight as well.  Please say you're free tonight too, because I'm dying to see you, and I have an idea.

Luckily for Blaine's nerves it only took a few minutes for Kurt to respond.

From Kurt:  That's fantastic!  I'm so glad you can come with me.  And yes, my dance card is open tonight.  What's your idea?

From Blaine:  You'll find out.  Just tell me when you're free and where I can pick you up.

From Kurt:  Is our destination closer to your place or Vogue?  Because I can either stay here and work or bring the dregs of it home with me, whatever makes more sense.  (And I can't believe you're not telling me what the idea is.  How will I know what to wear?)

From Blaine:  It's closer to my place.  Why don't I pick you up outside your building at eight?  (Dress is casual, with the usual allowances for the fact that you never really dress casually).

From Kurt:  It's a date.  (Hee hee.  I love saying that.)

“Whew,” Blaine exhaled, holding his phone up so Sam could see the texts.  “It's all set.  Now we have to get to work.”

“That's cool that Maria didn't mind you changing your schedule,” Sam commented, looking around for the list they had been working on. 

“You know, she totally didn't mind.  Apparently the storyteller that usually comes in the afternoons can't make it anymore, so they had that slot open anyway.  But even if Maria did mind, I would have tried to work something out, at least for some of the days.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  If I'm going to make this work with Kurt, we have to spend time together.  Texting and phone calls aren't enough, at least not now when we're trying to figure everything out.”  Blaine took Sam's offered hand and let him pull him up off the couch.

“Sure, that's the reason,” Sam said, tugging his sneakers on and holding the door for Blaine.

“What do you mean?”

“I know why you're so desperate to see Kurt tonight, and it's not just because it's hard to talk about tough stuff over the phone.”  Sam took Blaine's arm and smirked.  “I'm pretty sure it's because kissing works much, much better in person.”