“Do you want some coffee?”

Finn jumped violently at Kurt’s voice, his head hitting the inside of the fridge. Kurt heard the other boy curse and tried to not to laugh as Finn emerged, rubbing the back of his head and wincing.

“God, Kurt, warn a guy.” Finn’s tone was lightly teasing, which Kurt hadn’t been expecting. The two of them had barely spoken since their argument two days before. Although it killed Kurt, he hadn’t thought Finn had been that affected by it; just further proof that he wasn’t ready for the depth their relationship had grown. Finn seemed to realise who he was talking to and began to shuffle his feet awkwardly.

“I’ll make you some,” Kurt said quickly to avoid the tension already stringing itself between the boys. He just started to stand up when Finn moved towards the table.

“No, wait. Kurt…can we talk?”

“What about?” Kurt knew exactly ‘what about.’ He was stalling.

“I wanted to apologise. Can I sit down?”

Kurt gestured to the chair across from him. “It’s as much your table as it is mine.”

Finn squeezed under the table, stretching out his legs when his knees hit the underside. His large feet bumped against Kurt’s, seemingly intending to stretch under the other boy’s chair. Kurt glared at Finn and the tall boy quickly pulled his legs back, placing his feet just away from Kurt’s.

“Kurt, you have to know that I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kurt sighed, letting himself slump a little in his chair. “There really aren’t many other ways you could have meant it.”

Finn nodded with a frown. He seemed to think for a second, the crease between his brows deepening, before he spoke. “I know I’m pretty stupid sometimes. I’m not the brightest guy in the world and that’s okay. But sometimes I do…dumb things. I say stuff and it doesn’t come out the way it should. I hurt people.” He looked up and caught Kurt’s eye. “People that I care about and I don’t mean to do it. I suppose I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut, but, Kurt, you have to know that I didn’t want to hurt you. It doesn’t matter how messed up our…” He waved his hands around in the air as he searched for the word. “Bonding has been. You’re my brother. I don’t love you the way you love me, not yet, but I still love you. And, if you can forgive me, I’d really like the chance to feel the way you do.”

Kurt didn’t want to be won over so easily, but he loved Finn regardless of whether it was his choice to or not and the boy was so endearing that it was difficult. “You really need to work on the things you say to people, Finn.”

“I know and I can’t apologise enough times.”

“You need to think about what you’re going to say before you say it. Even I know that and I’ve been basically locked in this house for sixteen years.”

Finn’s lips quirked at the edges and Kurt gave him a small smile to show that he was allowed to laugh at that. Then Finn full on grinned and stood up, tripping around the table to bundle Kurt up in a hug.

“Thank you so much, Kurt.”

Kurt hugged Finn’s forearm, which was all he could really get at because of the way he was wrapped awkwardly in the taller boy’s arms. “It’s fine. I forgive you because I know you didn’t mean it. But, seriously, you need to let go of me so I can make you coffee.”

“Why are you making me coffee? I’m the one that’s apologising, I should be doing that.”

Kurt twisted in Finn’s grip to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Really, Finn? Do you even know how to use the coffee machine?”

Finn blushed a little. “It can’t be that hard.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. He extricated himself from the long-armed hug and made his way to the counter. “I am a superior coffee maker. As my brother, you will have to learn to deal with that. I’m providing the caffeine.”

Kurt was working on a McQueen-esque jacket on the couch the next afternoon, whiling away the hours that everyone else spent at work and school when he realised it. He didn’t have Blaine’s number. He had no way to contact him. He didn’t even know his last name. He pricked his finger with his embroidery needle and cursed under his breath as small drips of blue blood stained the fabric.

Kurt was panicking. He had been so stupid, thinking that Blaine would just accept that he was a faerie and move on. Kurt had told Blaine things that made him more vulnerable than anyone should be with someone they barely know. His imagination, grown wild from so many years locked away from the world, forced to piece together an image of life from films and literature, was jumping from one horrifying scenario to the next.

When the doorbell rang, Kurt was pacing the living room, having abandoned his jacket in his terror. His father wasn’t there, so he would have to open it. He would have to stand far back from the door just in case the person behind it decided to stretch out a hand.

He wasn’t expecting that person to be Blaine.

“Hey,” said the shorter boy with an adorably hopeful grin on his face. “I realised I left without any way of contacting you again and I was just wondering, well, if you want me, if I could come in and maybe get a phone number or email or something. Because I’d like to talk to you again. But if I’m overstepping, feel free to just send me on my way.”

Kurt laughed and reached out a hand to drag Blaine inside before pulling back sharply. His smile dropped a little, as did Blaine’s. “You’re not overstepping. I was actually just freaking out that you’d left and you knew all these things about me and I didn’t even know your last name, so please come in.”

Blaine grinned, looking relieved and waited for Kurt to move back before crossing the threshold. Kurt hated that moment when there should have been some form of contact as a greeting upon Blaine entering the house. It made him realise how much he relied on touching those he knew to show his affection for them. Although he had only known Blaine a day, he still wanted to be able to at least shake the boy’s hand or be given the chance to suffer through a vaguely awkward hug.

Kurt gestured for Blaine to follow him and led the other boy further into the house. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, unsure which way to go from there. He normally took guests – i.e. Mercedes – up to his bedroom, but was it more polite to settle them in the living room? He turned to Blaine with a frown on his face.

“Couch or bed?”

“I’m sorry?” Blaine looked like he was going to choke.

“Would you rather sit on a couch or a bed? I’m having an etiquette crisis.”

“Oh, either is fine. Do what you do with Mercedes.” Blaine grinned at Kurt and the other boy returned it. He hadn’t expected Blaine to remember things like his friend’s name. Then again, Blaine seemed to be one enormous exception to rules for Kurt. He almost – almost – grabbed Blaine’s hand to pull him up the stairs, but managed to keep his arm by his side. He would have to learn to restrain his tactile impulses. Instead, he just gestured with his head, allowing Blaine to climb ahead of him. He let himself press a hand to the small of Blaine’s back, covered by layers of clothing, to guide him to the right doorway. Blaine jumped, but when he realised that it was safe, he looked at Kurt over his shoulder with a soft smile. They could have some semblance of normality. They could work around this.

Kurt wondered, as Blaine sat on his bed and took in Kurt’s talents at interior design, at what point the two of them had decided to be this way; to be friends without touch; to connect without Kurt connecting. He didn’t know if it was when he told Blaine what faeries really were, or when they swapped gloves and coffee, or from the very first moment that Blaine promised he wouldn’t touch Kurt in front of the apples.

“What do you do during the day?” Blaine’s words broke into Kurt’s thoughts, making him realise he had been watching the boy on the bed while he stared at the things placed neatly around the room. Kurt had been unconsciously studying Blaine’s cheekbones and the slight crease of laughter ever-present around his eyes, while Blaine had been taking in the neat piles of magazines on the desk, the sample fabrics and sewing machine beside them. “I mean,” Blaine continued, turning his gaze onto Kurt, “I’m assuming you can’t go to school.”

“Read, educate myself, watch TV, obsess over Vogue.”

“Is that all?”

“No…I create, too.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asked, although Kurt saw his eyes flick back to the desk.

Kurt stood up, walking to one of the sliding doors on his closet. He pulled it back, then the next, and the next, until the wall of doors was pulled back, showing the clothes packed onto the rail within. Kurt turned towards Blaine and held out an arm, gesturing to the clothes proudly, although Blaine could see the slight nervousness in his eyes.

“I make clothes. Generally they’re just for me, but I’ve made stuff for Carole and Mercedes and a couple of pieces for models.”

“Models?”

“Well.” Kurt shifted uncomfortably. “For my mannequins. Nobody’s ever worn them. I don’t…I don’t know anyone who could.”

Blaine’s mouth opened as if he was going to reply, but he closed it again and the sad look was back in his eyes. “Male or female?”

“Both.”

“Too long for me?”

Kurt smirked and gestured for Blaine to stand up. He picked a measuring tape off his dresser and held it by Blaine’s head, letting it unravel until it touched the floor. He noticed that Blaine was remaining unnaturally still in an attempt not to touch his forehead to Kurt’s knuckle. Kurt stepped on the end of the tape, checked the number and chuckled before pulling it back into his hand.

“Much too long.”

“Was the tape measure really necessary?”

“No. I wanted to know how tall you are so I know what length to make pants now.” Kurt smiled at Blaine nervously as he rolled the tape measure up. “That is, if you want my clothes.”

“Of course I do.”

“Hey, white boy!” The shout came from the door, which slammed soon afterwards.

“Who’s that?” Blaine asked, frowning at Kurt. The faerie closed the issue of Vogue he had been using to demonstrate what clothes he might make for Blaine.

“Mercedes,” Kurt said. “In here!” he called out.

Blaine nodded with an ‘ah’ of comprehension before Mercedes barrelled through the door and swept Kurt into her arms.

“Oh, Kurt, I haven’t seen you in so long!”

“It’s been three days, Mercedes.”

She pulled back, pretending to look affronted. “Are you saying you didn’t miss me?” She suddenly caught sight of Blaine over Kurt’s shoulder. “Who’s this?” She stepped out of Kurt’s arms with a worried frown. Unknown boys did not just wander into Kurt Hummel’s bedroom.

“This is Blaine. Blaine, this is Mercedes, my best friend.” Silently, Kurt remembered his argument with Finn. My only friend. Could he count Blaine as a friend? Kurt didn’t know the etiquette for these things; he wasn’t sure at what point people bridged the gap between acquaintances and friends. He was generally all or nothing in these situations.

Blaine smiled, standing and holding his hand out to the girl, who shook it in a way that made Blaine think she was trying to read his mind through the point of contact.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

She didn’t reply, but turned to Kurt. “How do you know him? Have you…?” She glanced at Blaine, obviously unsure how much he knew.

“Grocery store mishap, ’Cedes. We’re not connected.”

She turned back to Blaine. “And you know?”

Blaine nodded, trying not to look as afraid as he felt. This girl was surprisingly intimidating. If the rest of Kurt’s family was like this, Blaine wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue being charming.

Mercedes gave him one last look, evidently trying to read him, then turned back to Kurt. “Finn’s over at Mike’s I think. We’re doing boys versus girls again and the boys haven’t prepared anything, so they’re trying to pull it together before tomorrow.”

“Why aren’t you doing something, then?”

She smiled indulgently at him. “Because we’re fabulous and we’re gonna blow their male asses out the water.”

Kurt grinned and pushed her shoulder before explaining to Blaine. “Mercedes is in the glee club at school with my step-brother.”

“Seriously?” Blaine asked. “Me too! Have you heard of The Warblers?”

“Oh, you’re those private school boys. Yeah, we’ll see you at Sectionals.”

Blaine opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a reply to the girl’s abrupt words. He simply nodded and smiled, trying not to look too offended. Kurt noticed, however, if the way he glared at Mercedes was any indication.

“Well,” Kurt said stiffly, “if you’re from rival glee clubs we should probably find something to talk about that won’t risk either of you selling out secrets to the opposition. I’ll make you guys something to eat.”

“You can cook?” Blaine asked, trying to convince himself that he didn’t see Mercedes roll her eyes.

“I have many talents, Blaine…Warbler, was it?”

“That’s not going to be a thing, is it?”

Kurt smirked, evidently about to reply, but Mercedes grabbed Blaine’s arm, startling the boy, and pushed him towards the door. “Food sounds great, Kurt. I’m starving.” Mercedes pulled Kurt back when he tried to leave the room after Blaine and whispered frantically in his ear. “Are you sure you can trust him, Kurt?”

“Yes,” he hissed back. “Please believe me, it’s fine.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Kurt, I don’t want to tell you how to live your life. I know you have enough things doing that for you already.” She took his hand in hers. “But don’t you think this is at least suspicious? How often do nice boys meet faeries in grocery stores?”

“There aren’t many normal things in my life, Mercedes,” Kurt replied, eyes starting to blaze. “There are nice people out there. Why can’t I be lucky enough to meet one of them?” He knew they’d waited too long to follow Blaine, so he didn’t let her reply. He dragged her out of the room by the hand and found Blaine waiting politely at the bottom of the stairs. The other boy’s eyes glanced down at their joined hands. When he looked at Kurt again, he had an expression that Kurt couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t pitying, but more pleased that Kurt had at least one friend he could hold hands with and act like he was no different to everyone else. Kurt almost reached out to take Blaine’s hand as well, but he managed to stop himself. It was still too soon. He wasn’t going to force his love on this boy any more than he was going to force love for this boy on himself.