Kurt opened one eye and glanced around the room for a spare pair of shoes. He spotted the uggs he had bought, in secret, peaking out of his closet. He would never wear them in public, but they were so soft and kept his feet from having to touch the harsh cement.

Then again they were about ten feet away, and his feet would more than likely be frost bitten by then. Kurt sighed, he glanced around for a solution. That's when he brushed his hand against the decorative pillows on the other side of the bed.

He smiled and began tossing them in the direction of the closet, like stepping stones. He knew it wasn't exactly the brightest plan, but it was early and he had been up until three testing Blaine. He paused mid throw, thinking about the night before.

He glanced around the room and made sure that absolutely no one was there. He then proceeded to lean back on the mattress, kick his feet in the air, and squeal like a teenage girl.�

But there was business to be handled. He climbed off of the bed and stepped onto the first fluffy blue pillow. It slid to the right a few inches, but Kurt regained his balance.

"If I slip and fall, I am throwing out every single one of these stupid pillows," he swore under his breath.

Once he was completely steady, he started to stretch out his leg toward the next pillow, but the one he was standing on started to shift backwards. Kurt panicked and jumped for it. The blue pillow shot across the room and the paisley one he jumped for propelled forward.�

Kurt landed flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He gasped for air and rolled to his side, groaning.�

"I am eight years old. I am stupid and moronic and eight years old," he whispered to himself as he slowly got to his feet.

He thought about going back for the boots, so he didn't feel so defeated, but the entire right side of his body was already frozen. Kurt sighed heavily and shuffled to the bathroom to start his morning routine.

"You were a problem child, been grounded your whole life. So now you runnin' wild," Kurt smiled as he applied his first few face washes. He thought of how this song applied to Blaine, "Playin' with them good guys, no that ain't your style."

Kurt rinsed a washcloth with warm water and wiped away the extra cream from his face. He grabbed a bottle of hairspray and sang into it.

"You think your hot shit. Ooh, I love it, I love it, yeah, yeah. Stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine. Keep doing what you're doing and I'ma make you mine," Kurt bounced up and down with the beat in his head. He ran into his bedroom and made it his stage.

"Well, you're a hot mess and I'm falling for you. And I'm like hot damn! Let me make you my boo," he danced toward his bed and climbed onto it. He jumped up and down as he sang into his hairspray microphone.

"Cause you can shake it, shake it, shake it, yeah, you know what to do. You're a hot mess
I'm loving it, hell yes!"

"Kurt?"

"Oh!" Kurt dropped to a sitting position on the bed and attempted to compose himself.

Finn smiled from the top of the staircase where he leaned in the doorway.�

"Why do I never have a video camera around when these things happen?" Finn sighed and shook his head, "Breakfast is ready Lil' Bro."

Kurt nodded silently as he watched Finn chuckle and close the door. He pictured what he had been doing, jumping up and down on his bed, dancing, and singing Cobra Starship... Into a hairspray bottle. Kurt groaned and fell back into his bed.

At least Finn hadn't walked in earlier when he was slipping around on the pillows.�

Oh, god, Kurt thought to himself, this is going to be a long day.

---

Once he was moderately presentable, Kurt headed upstairs to breakfast. His dad and Finn sat at the table, inhaling everything Carole put in front of them. She stood at the stove, flipping pancakes and smiling as sweetly as ever.

"Why do we love them?" Kurt shook his head and spoke quietly to Carole, "They're such pigs."

Carole giggled and shoved Kurt's shoulder, "When you find someone, then you'll realize."

Kurt's mind automatically went to Blaine. But, it wasn't even the memory of them kissing last night. It was of Blaine and him outside of the coffee shop. Blaine was laughing at something Kurt had said.�

He had his leather jacket pulled tight around him and as he laughed, his breath was visible in the air. Kurt had insisted on staying inside, but Blaine had dragged him out anyway.

The sun was just starting to set and the sky looked like a beautiful water color painting, but Kurt had eyes only for Blaine. Blaine. Just laughing. Nothing more. But the look on his face, of happiness, of just joy and... and something else. There was something else Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on.

He'd seen it before. Whenever Blaine looked at him. Another�memory came to him of Blaine in their science period, chewing on a pencil and curling a finger through a rogue piece of hair.

Kurt had caught himself watching Blaine and quickly returned his eyes back to his worksheet. When he looked up again, Blaine was watching him fondly. His eyes had melted into a warm honey color and he was smiling softly like everything was right in the world. Happiness, joy, and... That something else.

Kurt blushed, but kept his eyes on Blaine, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Blaine looked down at his hands then back to his work, "Nothing at all."

The moment, however, had been ruined by Jacob Ben Israel asking for an answer and Blaine nearly biting his head off.

"Kurt?" Carole wore a concerned expression, "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah," Kurt cleared his throat. That was weird. Those memories, flashing into his head, taking over him.

Kurt tried to feign normal, pouring juice for himself and the three others. He was in a fog of thought as he sat down across from Carole. She placed another stack of pancakes onto the table, which the other two began shoveling onto their own plates.

Kurt vaguely heard the conversation. He was, as Mercedes called it, stuck in his own head. What was that in Blaine's eye? Burt had said he looked at him like he was pure gold. There had to be something more...

Chewing on a piece of toast, Kurt decided to become a part of the conversation.

"So I'll be gone today until three," Carole told Burt while she cut a bite of pancake, "Maybe we could go have lunch afterward somewhere or-"

"Wait," Kurt interrupted, everyone turned to look at him, "Its Saturday. And you work the night shift."

Carole knit her eyebrows together, "Yes, Kurt. I just explained that my friend Jan is sick, and I volunteered to take her hours."

"Oh," Kurt took a sip of orange juice, "I knew that."

"Kurt, are you feeling okay? You seem very... Spacey."

"No, no, I'm fine. I um... I gotta go get ready," he set down his half eaten piece of toast and carried his plate to the sink.

"What're you doing today?" Burt took a bite of bacon and set down his newspaper.

"Me and Blaine are going to the mall in Westerville. Holiday shopping," Kurt smiled awkwardly and tried to make a quick exit.

"Who's Blaine? A new friend?" Carole smiled warmly and turned in her seat to get Kurt's answer.

"Blaine, is Kurt's boyfriend," Finn kept his eyes on his plate, shoving more pancakes into his mouth.

Kurt's eyes darted to Finn in slight horror, then to his father. "You told Finn? You told the person who was voted the worst to keep a secret in all of Lima?"�

Finn looked up from his food with overly full cheeks. He glanced between his step father and Kurt.

"Kurt, I thought he knew..." Burt sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Who have you told?" Kurt snapped at his brother. Finn kept his eyes downcast and sunk down in his chair. "Who have you told, Finn?"

"Just Puck!" Finn exclaimed, "and Rachel... And Mike, so probably Tina... And Mercedes..."

Kurt groaned and pinched the bridge if his nose. He waved a hand to silence Finn and slowly walked out of the room. He sunk into the loveseat and held his head in his hands.

"Kurt?" Carole asked in a small voice.

Kurt thought for a second, before patting the space beside him. He felt a small hand rubbing circles on his back.

"I'm sorry about Finn, he's never been one for thinking before he does things," she said.

"It's fine."

"Do you want to talk about it? Him, I mean?" Kurt could hear the smile in her voice. She knew him too damn well.

He smiled and turned toward her on the small couch. "I can't wait for you to meet him, Carole. He's amazing. He sings, plays guitar, and he's gorgeous. He's so sweet to me and oh, god I just-"

Carole giggled and covered her smile.

"What?" Kurt asked, smiling slightly himself.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

But Carole could see it. In those few seconds Kurt talked about this mystery boy, she could already tell. She bit her tongue though, and let the boy gush about his boyfriend. But she could see it. Let it be known that she was the first.