Everything felt like too much. It was too hot in the room as sweat ran down the contours of Blain'es chest. His skin was too sensitive as a too-rough hand gripped his hip. The air was too thick and he felt like he was suffocating on the scent of sex mingled with the other man's cologne. And most of all, everything was too much not at all Kurt.

For some reason, this felt like cheating. He and Kurt weren't together, but he still loved Kurt so much it hurt and he was convinced Kurt felt the same way. It's not like he wouldn'tratherbe with Kurt and it's not like he hadn't tried. He'd gone by Kurt's apartment earlier that day with the usual dozen roses and th big, goofy smile. He'd even chosen to wear a bowtie for the first time in months just because he knew how adorable Kurt thought he looked in them. But Kurt kept insisting they were "just friends". Needless to say, he hadn't taken it well.

Blaine wasn't exactly proud of what has happened next. He'd never been with someone he didn't know platonically first, and this wasn't just some hook-up with a guy he met at a bar.

Blaine laid back in the hotel bed, breathing still harsh as he revelled in the aftershocks. The other man cradles Blaine in his arms. He was a lot bigger than Blaine and, to put it lightly, kind of fucking ripped, so it wasn't exactly the most comfortable spooning experience, but Blaine craved human contact so much right now that he didn't really care. It didn't feel anything like spooning with Kurt (mostly because Kurt always let him be the big spoon despite the obvious challenges faced here because of their size difference), but Blaine tried to push that thought out of his mind. They laid there for a few minutes before the afterglow seemed to pass and the intimacy of the whole situation began to make Blaine uncomfortable.

"So, um... I don't... really know where to go from here," Blaine murmured, half hoping the guy with his arm wrapped around his shoulders wouldn't hear him. What was his name again? Amory? He didn't even know the guy's name. God, that was shameful.

"Well, we could lay here for a while... or you could just pay me and I'll fuck off," he answered and Blaine could hear the smirk in his voice even though he couldn't see him.

"I'll just pay you," Blaine answered flatly.

* * * * * *

Blaine stood gripping the doorframe, shirtless because the one he was wearing earlier was kind of covered in sweat and cum now. No point in being anything but brutally honest about it. He watched Amory saunter down the hall, feeling regret immediately creep up his throat. He swallowed it down as he slammed the door shut.

This had been a mistake, but at least he could forget about it now.

* * * * * *

Blaine woke up the next day physically and mentally exhausted. If that bad taste in your mouth when you first wake up in the morning could gestate into a full blown emotion, that would be what he was feeling right now. He rolled over on the bed, not sure if the groaning was from the old springs of the shitty hotel room mattress or the movement of his stiff joints. The clock on the bedside table glared "1:00 PM" back at him in bright red block numbers. This time the groan was most definitely from Blaine's mouth as he buried his face in his pillow.

He hadn't actually had much of a plan when he decided to hop on a plane to New York. Well, that was a lie. He'dplannedon spending the night revelling in the fiery throws of rekindled romance. As far as a practical plan, though? Well... Blaine had always been more of a dreamer than a logical thinker. He hadn't even booked a flight back to Lima.Good thinking, Anderson,he thought grumpily.

Miraculously, Blaine managed to pull himself out of bed, shower, and get dressed. As he headed out the door, he caught sight of some disheveled dwarf with dark circles under his eyes and mussed up hair standing beside the door. The image made him jump as he realized that it was not in fact Frodo poisoned by the blade of a Wringwraith, but his own reflection in the mirror beside the door. He decided at this point that there was at least enough time to gel the hidious mess of hair that clung to his head like some sort of dead animal that had been soaked by the rain. Simultaneously, he decided that he made far too many Tolkien references in his internal monologues and made a mental note to cut back.

Once that was finished (and, mind you, that took quite a bit of time and effort), Blaine headed out the door. It was only when he reached the hotel lobby that he even bothered looking out a window.

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.

On the other side of the revolving glass door in the lobby was a goddamn winter wonderland. There was no way Blaine was going to get a flight in this weather, and even if he could, he wasn't too keen on the idea of flying out in what appeared to be the start of the next ice age.

Blaine considered running back to his room and screaming into a pillow until he passed out, but that consideration was interrupted when he heard Katy Perry singing from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and stared at the incoming call screen which read "Kurt <3". (Yeah, okay, so he was the cheesiest sap on the face of the planet. So sue him.)

"Hello?" he answered, resisting the urge to kick himself at how desperate his hello had sounded.

"Hey, Blaine. Have you left yet?"

"No. In case you haven't noticed, we've been transported into The Day After Tomorrow universe," he mumbled bitterly.

"Oh my god you are such a drama queen."

(At this point, Blaine half-heartedly mmbled something about that not being true because he was feeling particularly like a five year old today.)

"Listen, I know we aren't exactly on the best of terms right now, but I can't stand the thought of you staying in some seedy motel room while you're stuck here until this passes..."

Kurt paused for far to long and Blaine felt like he was going to die, clinging to every moment of silence as he anticipated how Kurt was going to finish that thought.

"So... if you don't have anywhere else to stay... I wanted you to know that you can stay here."

Blaine thrusted his fist into the air and screamed a silent victory scream. He was sure he was getting weird looks, but he couldn't really find it within himself to care at the moment. He was pondering what exactly his non-silent victory screech would sond like when Kurt quickly added:

"But don't think this means anything more than what it actually means, Blaine. We're still just friends."

This mantra was getting old. "Just friends" didn't make out in the back of a prius in full tuxes. "Just friends" didn't skip half of the wedding reception to rent a hotel room. "Just friends" didn't go to the movies and grope each other in the back row then hold hands for the remainder of the film. Blaine didn't know what Kurt's definition of "just friends" was, but it didn't match up with Blaine's much at all.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Blaine responded, a little too eagerly.

Kurt audibly sighed, then continued,"Well, I won't be at home until six, but Rachel's boyfriend doesn't have class today if you want to come by before then."

"Okay!" Blaine chirped immediatley.

"Right.... I have to go. I'm supposed to meet Adam at 3."

Kurt emphasized the name 'Adam' as if to say"Adam... my boyfriend... Remember? The guy I'm dating... who isn't you. The guy I'm having sex with... which isn't you.... (most of the time)."

Blaine ignored this as he said goodbye to Kurt.

Last night seemed so distant now as happiness bubbled up in Blaine's stomach over the promise of at least a few days, snowed in with Kurt.

* * * * * *

Blaien stood outside the door of Kurt's apartment. It was now 5:30. Blaine had planned on coming at 7, not wanting to seem as desperate as he actually was, but once he'd finished packing and successfully paced the room 34 times all by 4, he'd made an executive decision to come early rather than pull all of his heavily geled hair out.

It was the 6th time Blaine had raised his hand to knock on the door before cursing and pacing back down the hallway 5 steps. He didn't know why anxiety over Kurt made him count so much, but he didn't like it.

Finally, he raised his fist and banged on the door 4 times before he could convince himself not to again. He was internally screaming as he heard someone move to unlock and slide the door out of the way.

The twelve-thousand thoughts racing through Blaine's mind stopped when he realized how familiar the man-who-was-definitely-not-Kurt standing in the doorway was.

His face was familiar. His lips were familiar. His collarbones just peaking out of his too-tight t-shirt that hugged his familiar torso were familiar. And the hipbones that his loose sweat pants hung dangerously low on werefartoo familiar.

"Uh," was all Blaine could manage as he stared, dumbfounded, at the man who had helped him wake up his entire hallway last night standing in the doorway of his ex-boyfriend's apartment.

Meanwhile, Amory or whatever-the-hell his name was seemed confused for a moment, but only that. He recovered quickly, proving that he was either far better at acting on the spot or was much more comfortable with the fact that Blaine was walking funny because of him than Blaine was.

"Come on in. You must be Blaine," Amory said after a moment, motioning Blaine inside with a genuine goddamn smile on his face.

Blaine hadn't even had time to process his own feelings about the situation to question why the hell a male prostitute was in Kurt's apartment. Thankfully, Amory beat him to it.

"I'm Brody."

What the fuck that's not what you said last night.

"I'm Rachel's boyfriend."

This sent Blaine's mind reeling even more than it already was, which he honestly hadn't thought was possible.

Rachel Berry, the girl who Blaine had once known to blush at the mention of anything past eskimo kisses, was dating a hooker. A hooker who Blaine had... oh god. He and Rachel had been with the same guy. Blaine felt himself gag a little at the thought.

"Um... Blaine?"

It was at this point that Blaine realized he'd been standing there staring at Brody in horror for the past 30 seconds.

"What the hell are-"

"Blaine! You're here early!"

Blaine wasn't sure how he'd planned on finishing that sentence, but the trill of Kurt's voice shut him up immediatley either way. He turned to see Kurt walking from the elevator, stylish and radiant as Blaine always found him. He felt his cheeks flush red hot as he prayed Brody wasn't a total dick and wouldn't blurt out his little secret. Blaine tried not to notice Brody staring at his ass as he opened his arms and pulled Kurt into a hug.

"Yeah, I.... uh-" Blaine stumbled.

"Oh my god, Blaine, you're disgustingly sweaty. Did you run here or something?"

"I- No... um-"

Thankfully Kurt didn't seem too interested in an actual answer to that question, so Blaine was spared the inevitably painful excuse he was about to pull oucutt of his ass.

"Well why are we all standing out here. Come on in and get settled," Kurt said after an awkward moment of silence between the three of them. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him past Brody and into the apartment.

"Don't mind the mess," Brody called after them, "Rachel and I tend to leave our clothes wherever they land. I'm sure you know how it is."

Blaine stumbled a bit and hoped the spluttering sound he made could be passed off as a cough.