It took every bit of willpower Blaine had not to drive back to Mr. Hummel's tire shop that weekend.

Kurt was a mystery, full of questions without any answers. Blaine couldn't understand why he suddenly felt so drawn to someone he initially could barely stand. And now... now he was inventing new tasks for Kurt to do, just to keep him around a little longer.

Heneededto know. He needed to find out why Kurt behaved the way he did, what had scared him enough to try to hide, why his eyes were so full of sadness all the time. Such beautiful eyes shouldn't ever look so sad...

And yet, it was none of his business. He had promised Kurt he wouldn't go back to his father's garage, or mention that they had met there. He had promised, and Blaine didn't believe in breaking promises.

Although that didn't stop him from constantly thinking about Kurt, as if he was some riddle he needed to solve.

In the end, Blaine didn't have to worry about breaking his promise and doing exactly what he had pledged Kurt he wouldn't do, because it was Kurt who brought it up first.

When Blaine got out of his car on Monday morning, Kurt was already at the book store, leaning next to the door, with his sunglasses in place, looking at the neighborhood with indifference.

"Good morning, Kurt," he said with a gentle smile, as he pulled the keys out of his pocket to open the door.

"Hey," Kurt replied casually, as he grabbed his toolbox and bag from his feet to follow Blaine inside.

Blaine dropped his satchel on the armchair and instantly started rummaging for his wallet. "I really need a coffee. Do you want me to get you anything? I'll make a quick Lima Bean run..."

Kurt was still settling his stuff on the other side of the room and turned to look at Blaine a little awkwardly. "I... actually..." he sighed. "So... I don't know what the hell happened on Friday after I left, or what you and my father discussed, but..."

Blaine's eyes went wide in surprise. "I thought you said you didn't want to talk about it."

"And I really don't," Kurt continued, running a hand through his hair. "But this morning, when I woke up, my stepmother stopped by my house on her way to work and gave me a box of her famous freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and told me they were foryou."

Blaine could only blink. "What?"

Kurt fished a plastic container out of his bag and practically shoved it into Blaine's hands. "Here."

"But... why?" Blaine asked, mystified, as he opened the container to peek inside.

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged, and he looked truly uncomfortable. "And I don't want to know either. Whatever you and my Dad talked about... just don't tell me."

Blaine thought about what Burt had said about him being the first guy Kurt had ever worked for who treated him decently, and nodded. It had to be something about that. "Well, thank you, Kurt. And please let your stepmother know..."

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt waved him off. "Just go get your coffee so I can pretend this conversation never happened."

Blaine rolled his eyes, put the cookies down on the table, and walked out of the shop to the Lima Bean. He returned with two cups of coffee and persuaded Kurt to grab a cookie.

They didn't get much done that morning.

"Tell me about your dad."

Blaine had been kneeling on the floor, organizing the books that still needed to be sorted out into different categories, but he looked up at that, eyebrows all the way up to his hairline, a cook book in one hand andHuckleberry Finnin the other.

"My dad?" He asked, a little confused.

"Yeah," Kurt muttered, leaning against the wall and taking a sip of water from a bottle, as he watched Blaine. "You mentioned him in passing a few times, and I feel like there's a story there that you need to tell..."

Blaine frowned. "And you want to hear it?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and stepped away from the wall to put his water bottle back in his bag. "Fine. Sorry. Professionalism. I forgot for a second."

"No, no," Blaine hurried to say, gently putting the books down. "It's not that. I just didn't think you would care..."

"Right. You probably talk about this stuff with your friends," Kurt shrugged, as he rummaged through his toolbox until he found what he was looking for.

Blaine's eyes fell to fix on the floor. He heard himself say in the quietest of voices, before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth: "I don't actually have any friends."

The fact that Kurt seemed so completely shocked almost made Blaine miss the way his blue eyes suddenly filled with something else, some kind of ache, some kind of longing, of understanding? "Seriously?Youdon't have any friends? You have to be one of the most disgustingly likeable guys I've ever met in my life. How is that even possible?"

Blaine could feel the blush creeping up his face, and avoided Kurt's gaze. "I'm just... you know, kind of shy and awkward."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Kurt said with an amused smirk that made Blaine chuckle.

"Besides, it's not like you like me, either," Blaine added, blushing harder. What Kurt had told him weeks ago still haunted his thoughts, but he didn't want Kurt to know. "You told me that yourself."

Kurt shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "So, maybe I changed my mind..."

Blaine bit his lip, keeping the smile that was threatening to take over his face at bay. "Oh..."

They didn't say anything else. Kurt went back to working, and Blaine went back to sorting out the books.

Every second of every day, Kurt was unpredictable. Blaine wouldn't have imagined the first day they met, that the rude asshole he immediately decided wouldn't ever work for him, could make him feel likethis. He felt a constant tug deep within him that tried to push him to get closer, to learn him, to unravel the enigma of Kurt Hummel. Blaine was spell-bound; fascinated by the deep, color-changing pools of his eyes, by the unexpected kindness emerging when Kurt was clearly trying to suppress it. He wanted to learn the secrets swirling around in him, tempting him like a bright light attracting a moth towards its certain death. And wasn't that what Blaine was doing? Wishing he could get close enough to risk being burnt?

He was attracted to Kurt, but not just because of the way he looked (and let's face it, he looked amazing), but because he was the most enthrallingly unique man he had ever met... but he was trying to hide that. Kurt was trying to hide his uniqueness, to blend with everyone else, with people he clearly hated, in a town he hated living in... butwhy?

And here he was, standing in the middle of his bookshop, working with his back to Blaine, and all he could think about was how sincere and earnest he had seemed when he asked him about his father. Kurt was right: there was a story there he wanted to tell, a story that had affected his life. Blaine knew he could talk to his own mother about his father whenever he needed to, but he didn't want to risk making her even sadder, especially when she seemed to finally be getting back to normal.

Kurt had offered to listen. He had offered, as if hecared.

And Blaine was almost aching for someone to care.

"It was a car accident," Blaine finally said, in a soft voice. Kurt turned to look at him, apparently surprised that he had spoken after several minutes of silence. "He was coming home from work – he was a partner in a financial company – and it just happened, a fluke out of nowhere."

Kurt didn't say anything, he just sat down on the floor with his back against the wall and watched Blaine, showing him he had all his attention, but without coming closer, as if he wanted to give him his space, letting him set the pace for the conversation.

"When my mom called to tell me... I didn't believe her at first," Blaine smiled sadly. "I drove to their house and it was only when I got there that I realized she wasn't lying, that it was true and he was really gone." Blaine glanced at the box in front of him, grabbed a random book and held it, as if just having it in his hands would comfort him.

"You had a close relationship with him, I take it?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine frowned. "Not really. I mean... it's not that we argued, or anything. I just... I didn't reallyknowhim, you know?" Blaine flipped the book open and looked down at it, without really seeing the words in the pages. "For a very long time, I thought he didn't like me, that he was just being polite because he had to... but it turns out I was wrong. He always loved me, he just wasn't very demonstrative. He wasn't open about sharing his feelings. He was just a quiet man with communication issues, and now I know that I could've had the most amazing relationship with him, but it's too late to fix it." With a sigh, Blaine closed the book and put it back into the box. "I spent years thinking he disapproved of me because I'm gay, and because I spend more time with books than with people, but it turns out that if I hadn't been so scared to be rejected by him, and just asked him, I wouldn't have had to wait until he was dead to know how wrong I was."

"He could've come and talked to you, too," Kurt muttered and when Blaine glanced at him, he saw he was smiling faintly. "Don't feel like it's all your fault, Blaine. Both of you made mistakes, but he should've taken the first step. Kids need their parents to take the first step, sometimes..."

"When I think that he should have been the one taking the first step, it makes me so angry, though," Blaine said, and it was the first time he actually voiced that. "Because he actually waited until it was too late, ... he decided to show me he cared about me by leaving money to an LGBT project and a library in his will. And trust me, it means a lot that he did that. I was so touched... but why couldn't he just do what any normal father would andtellme he loved me?"

"Blaine," Kurt said, resting his elbows on his knees to lean forward, fixing Blaine with those intense blue eyes. "That is alotmore than normal fathers do. Maybe he didn't know how to approach you face to face when he was alive, but don't tell me it didn't make you feel overwhelmingly loved that your father knew you well enough, knew about the things you care about, to actually do something like that."

Blaine wrapped his arms around himself. "I was so shocked... I couldn't believe he would do something like that."

"You said you didn't really know him," Kurt murmured, as he straightened his back and rested again against the wall. "But, to me, it seems like you already know the most important thing about him."

"What?" Blaine asked, a bit breathless.

"He cared about you," Kurt answered. "And deeply. If not, why would have he taken the time to add those things to his will? He knew what was important to you, and he made sure you'd find out it was important for him, too. You mattered to him, and maybe he failed in letting you know that in time to give him a hug and go to a football game, but he clearly wanted to make sure that, even if he did fail to say it, you would still know." Kurt stood up, grabbed something from his bag and walked to Blaine, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder that let go too soon. "And that, to me, counts for a lot."

He dropped a tissue on Blaine's lap and only then did Blaine realize that his eyes were wet and that he had stopped breathing while Kurt was talking. Kurt went to the backroom, disappeared, probably deciding it was better to give him a moment, and Blaine clenched the tissue between his fingers, as he took a sharp breath in.

What Kurt had said may not have been the most shocking thing Blaine had ever heard. He might have reached that conclusion himself if he had allowed himself to actually think more about it, but it was the way Kurt had spoken to him, the way he had so obviously chosen his words so carefully, the way he had pushed them into Blaine's chest, so they could wrap themselves around Blaine's heart, that meant so much to him.

When Kurt returned, he was back to his old self, all his walls back up again, no traces of compassion or kindness visible in his face. Blaine pretended he didn't notice, he pretended he wasn't disappointed that he couldn't bring all those walls down completely, help Kurt be free, help him be whoever he really was.

But for now, Blaine found comfort in knowing that Kurt had decided to push his own boundaries enough to talk to him about something that clearly affected Blaine deeply. Blaine hadn't thrust that conversation upon Kurt – Kurt had offered to listen.

And that, Blaine hoped, had to mean something.

Since the little meltdown Heather had had not long ago, Blaine made a point of taking her out for lunch at least once a week, making sure that she had someone to talk to, and that she wasn't staying home, letting grief swallow her whole.

This was one of those days. Blaine had told Kurt the previous day to let himself in with the spare key, so now he found himself sitting in one of his mother's favorite restaurants, scanning the menu, and sort of wishing he could just order a plain cheeseburger. Instead, he looked up at the waitress with a smile and ordered the pasta with calamari, while Heather chose the salmon.

"So, how's the bookstore coming along?" Heather asked once they were alone, sipping a bit of water from her glass. "Do you have a date for the opening yet?"

"No, not yet," Blaine replied. "Maybe in a month, or so. I'm not sure how much longer it'll take."

"You must be getting really impatient," she commented with a knowing smile.

Blaine had to stop short at that. Once, not too long ago, he was impatient. But lately, he was so busy trying to understand Kurt that he had somehow forgotten about how desperately he wanted to open his bookshop. It didn't mean he wasn't excited about it anymore. It just meant that he wasn't so impatient to have the renovations done as he had been at first.

When it all had started, it was all about focusing on the goal and tolerating Kurt.

Now, it was all about enjoying the ride and the (odd, he had to admit) company, too.

"A little, but I'm having a lot of fun seeing everything coming together," Blaine answered with a little shrug.

"You'll have to take me there so I can see it," Heather patted his hand. "I'm very happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom," Blaine smiled brightly. "But I actually want to take you to see it when it's almost done. Now it's dirty and messy and Kurt's tools are everywhere..."

"How is it going, with this Kurt guy?" Heather asked, arching an eyebrow. "He seemed to be giving you a lot of trouble at first."

"Not anymore. He's better now," Blaine assured her. "He was sort of an... acquired taste. I'm used to him now." He knew that if he kept talking about Kurt, his fascination with him would show, so he decided to move the conversation to safer topics. "What about you? How's that new project that you told me you were starting with your friends?"

"Oh, it's going wonderfully," Heather said, and some of the enthusiasm that had been dead in her since Mark's death seemed to finally make its way back to her eyes. "We've decided to organize an auction to raise funds for the children's hospital. I'm actually going to need your help if you have any spare time..."

"Of course, Mom, how can I help?" He said, eager to keep her happy and distracted.

"I need to go through the stuff we have in the attic and the basement," she answered, as the waitress returned with their food. They smiled at her and thanked her. "We have lots of antiques I could donate for the auction, things I haven't used in years. But I want to make sure I don't give away anything that you would like to keep for yourself, or anything that has sentimental value."

"Maybe I can come over next weekend," Blaine replied. "Week days are pretty busy, but I spend most of my weekends at home, so..."

"Blaine," Heather narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "Are you locking yourself up at your apartment? Does this have anything to do with your date with Josh...?"

"Mom, no," Blaine hurried to say, definitely not wanting to talk about him. "It has nothing to do withthat. I just... when didIever have any exciting plans for the weekend? And I get stressed a lot during the week with the shop, so mostly I just want to relax and watch old Buckeyes games and read and..."

"Okay, okay," Heather sighed. She grabbed his hand. "Honey, you know I worry about you constantly. You can't blame me for wanting you to be happy."

"But Iamhappy," Blaine lied, and as if it would make it true just by saying it again, he added: "I am."

She looked at him in the eyes for a moment, before asking: "so, how's your pasta? This is delicious. Would you like to try some?"

Blaine felt relieved when the conversation moved on to lighter topics for the rest of the meal.

It was early afternoon by the time Blaine made it to the bookshop after his lunch date with his mother. He hadn't wanted to leave Kurt on his own for too long, knowing he wouldn't take his lunch break until Blaine arrived. So he parked the car next to Kurt's truck in front of the shop, and walked inside, while thinking that maybe he could start working on the inventory while Kurt left to get something to eat...

But when he entered the bookshop, he completely forgot about it, because it was so loud in there, and the sounds weren't coming from any of those big, electric tools Kurt owned.

It was Kurt hitting the wall Blaine wanted to knock down with a huge, heavy sledgehammer.

"Kurt?" Blaine called, a little surprised, and a little confused. "I thought you weren't going to start with that until next week, and that you were going to work on... Kurt?"

Blaine hesitated, and he knew,he knew, something had to be wrong. Kurt was hitting the wall so violently, without even noticing Blaine was there. It couldn't be just because he was so focused on what he was doing. The muscles in his back and arms strained with every blow, his white t-shirt was clinging to his body with sweat, and there was a huge hole in the wall where he was hitting it, rubble falling all around.

Blaine had never seen anyone work like that, so violently, so desperately. And he knew it was just a matter of time until Kurt hurt himself if Blaine didn't stop him...

And then he saw the tears.

They were running down Kurt's cheeks, silent and furious, spilling from his eyes in little unstoppable waterfalls that Blaine couldn't bear to look at.

"Kurt!" He exclaimed, taking a few steps closer. Kurt didn't even acknowledge him. "Kurt, stop!"

Instead of stopping, Kurt hit the wall even harder, fingers completely white from the tight grip around the sledgehammer. He was panting and gasping, and Blaine could tell a few broken sobs were threatening to escape.

"Kurt, stop, you're going to hurt yourself!" Blaine yelled over the noise. He knew that trying to physically stop Kurt himself could get him hurt, but he had to take the risk. He couldn't see Kurt doing this to himself. It seemed like all the hurt Kurt was experiencing was splitting him open. "Kurt!"

Blaine wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him away from the wall, but Kurt tried to fight him, struggling to break free, until his strength suddenly seemed to vanish. Blaine put a hand on his arm, stoping him from attempting to hit the wall once again, and then let that hand travel down Kurt's arm, to peel his fingers off the mallet.

"Ssh, Kurt, it's okay," Blaine whispered in his ear. He could feel Kurt's wild heartbeat and could feel him heaving against him. "It's okay, everything's fine..."

"Let go of me, Anderson!" Kurt yelled furiously. "Don't touch me!"

"I won't let go of you until you calm down!" Blaine replied steadily, tightening his arms around him. "You're going to get hurt!"

"That's none of your goddamn business! Why wouldyoucare?" Kurt was still weakly fighting to make Blaine let go of him, but he wasn't succeeding. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

"I'm not letting go," Blaine said softly, soothing. "I'm not letting go of you, Kurt. I've got you..."

Kurt tried to take a deep breath. "Blaine... please..."

He was tired. He was tired of fighting, he was crumbling, and Blaine was there to catch him. Blaine wasn't letting go. "I've got you, Kurt," he repeated, pressing his forehead against Kurt's temple. "I'm right here."

Kurt's knees gave out and if it wasn't for Blaine holding him, he would've collapsed to the floor. Blaine held him in his arms and slowly lowered them down to the floor, sliding against the wall, pulling Kurt closer to his chest as he broke down, tears racing down his cheeks as his sobs finally made their way out. Blaine's heart clenched painfully: it was like watching a porcelain doll fall, crashing against the floor, breaking into a million pieces. He held Kurt and felt him crack in his arms, in his hands, broken, finally broken and defeated, but still so painfully beautiful, so perfect and sad.

Curled between Blaine's legs, with his face hidden in his chest, Kurt's hands closed in Blaine's shirt. His fists wrinkled the fabric in their attempt to find something to keep him anchored, as if he was afraid he would drift away if he didn't hold on, as if he was afraid he would get lost. Blaine allowed him to hold on as much as he needed to, safe in his arms. He had no idea what had happened; he was scared, too.

It had to have been something horrible. Kurt rarely showed any emotions at all, always hiding behind his carefully built walls, but this... this was so unexpected. It was the first time Blaine had looked at him and realized Kurt was as human as he was – for a long time he had seemed made of ice. And now, now he wasn't some heartless, rude asshole, or just a beautiful unreachable entity.Thiswas the real Kurt. He had a pulse, and he could hurt and break just as much as Blaine. He was holding Kurt, and Blaine didn't want to let go ever again.

He cried for such a long time that Blaine was starting to think it would never end. He wondered if Kurt would cry himself to exhaustion, or even to death. The way his body was shaking with the force of his sobs was absolutely heartbreaking, and Blaine found himself rubbing his back and making soothing noises, not sure how else to help the broken man in his arms.

But finally Kurt quietened, though his fists were still clenched tightly in Blaine's clothes, and tried to take some deep breaths to steady himself. Blaine ran his fingers soothingly through his hair, and waited, as patiently as he could.

Kurt slowly lifted his head, sniffling, and when he looked up at Blaine, he felt himself going breathless at the sight. Kurt's eyes were so wide, and so blue, and his lips were slightly parted, and there was a light blush covering his pale skin, whether from all the crying or from embarrassment, Blaine didn't know. What he did know, was that Kurt took his breath away. He was so gorgeous, and so miserable, and all Blaine wanted to do was promise that he would always keep him safe, and take care of him.

No words emerged from his mouth, though. Instead, Blaine leaned, slowly, so slowly, until his lips were hovering over Kurt's, giving him the chance to pull away. But Kurt didn't move away, and Blaine had to, he justhadto kiss him, because maybe one kiss was enough to take the pain away. And if it wasn't, then at least it was a good place to start.

It was soft and tender, but only for a couple of seconds. Then, desperation and need took over, as Kurt pushed into it, claiming Blaine's mouth, and taking the comfort he needed. Blaine held him close and tasted – tears, coffee, and Kurt, justKurt– as he felt Kurt's lips parting even more, inviting him in, asking for everything Blaine was willing to give.

And right now, as Blaine cupped Kurt's face with a warm hand, and gently eased his tongue into Kurt's mouth, he realized he was willing to give him everything he had to give.