Blaine spent all of the next day in a ball of anxiety. Had Lulu snitched? What would Elektra do to him? Angel tried to get him to eat something, and Papi attempted to get him to at least laugh with a story about a pop and lock battle on the piers that ended with an angry parent screaming in Spanish while dragging her kid off by the ear, but Blaine couldn’t stop worrying.

The next day he got to FIT, early as usual at the spot where he and Kurt normally met, but there was no sign of him. He waited as long as he could before finally heading to class, hoping he would see Kurt there. Alas, his chair sat empty. The teacher had begun to call roll as he settled at his easel when the door creaked open, Kurt sheepishly poking his head in before the rest of his body followed.

“Mr. Hummel, glad you could join us this morning,” the teacher droned. Kurt quickly took his seat next to Blaine and started arranging his drawing supplies.

Blaine leaned over and whispered, “What happened to you this weekend?”

“Not now,” Kurt responded.

They sat quietly next to each other for the next hour, sketching the model in front of them, until the bell rang. Kurt apparently couldn’t leave fast enough, and Blaine followed after him.

“Kurt...Kurt, wait, hold on!” Blaine called out as he ran to catch up to Kurt who was walking at a brisk pace. ”Kurt, please talk to me, what happened?”

Kurt stopped and turned on Blaine. “What happened is Elektra tore me a new asshole, that’s what happened! I spent the rest of Saturday night and half of Sunday morning getting read the riot act about loyalty and betrayal and after everything I’ve done for you. And then when I thought she would let me sleep, we instead had to be her personal slaves for the rest of the day, with her reminding the others that it was my fault. So you can imagine how everyone in the house feels about me this morning.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry...maybe we shouldn’t have gone to the movie.”

“No, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at Lulu and my dragon of a Mother. You know she even threatened to not let me walk in the next ball!”

Okay, now Blaine thought that was being a little dramatic. “Who cares what she thinks? It’s just a trophy, right?”

Blaine realized quickly he said the wrong thing, because Kurt’s demeanor turned, and the anger Blaine imagined he felt at his house was suddenly turned toward him. “Just a trophy, Blaine? Maybe to you it’s just a trophy. For me, it’s validation of who I am...who I wasn’t allowed to be in Ohio. Whether you like it or not, you pass. You probably had girls falling at your feet when your glee club performed, wondering why you played hard to get.”

Blaine was stung at those words; passing sure as hell didn’t prevent him from losing everything. He wanted to tell Kurt as much, but he was on a roll. “Meanwhile I had to settle with being in the background while Rachel Berry got all the solos and had her pick of leading men, knowing they’d never let the little faggot have the spotlight. That ball, those trophies? Those mean everything to a little boy who was never allowed to shine!”

His eyes welling with tears, Kurt turned and stomped away. Blaine, feeling awful, went ahead to where his next class would meet and skipped lunch. He’d lost his appetite.

When Blaine got home, he found everyone gathered at the dining table.

“Oh, good, you’re here!” Blanca said. She got up and pulled Blaine into the room. “I was just telling the others about the theme for the ball this week.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a ‘Back To School’ vibe, all collegiate and preppy and shit,” Papi added.

Angel smiled knowingly up at Blaine. “And, well, we figured you’re our secret weapon. Being you actually are a preppy school kid.”

"Was a preppy school kid, you mean,” Blaine retorted. He then realized what Angel meant. “Wait, secret weapon? You want me to walk? In the ball?”

“No, we want you to walk in the bodega on the corner, yes, walk in the ball!” Blanca teased. “I’ve seen you practicing your moves with the boys. I know you said all you did was some step-touch with your school choir, but Damon told me you’ve really impressed him.”

Blaine was touched. “Really? Damon, you think I’m that good...good enough to do the ball?”

Damon scoffed. “Hell yeah, you’re ready.”

“Shit you better walk in this ball before you get cast in a Madonna video or something and we lose you!” Ricky added.

“One thing you should know,” Blanca said. “This will probably be the category Porcelain is walking in, too, so you’ll be competing. You okay with that?”

Blaine was still stinging from Kurt’s outburst earlier, but the House didn’t need to know that. They were so excited for him to walk in his first ball. But knowing how much the trophies meant to Kurt, he felt odd being put right in the middle of this feud between houses. Still, it was going to be his first time, and the odds of his scoring higher than a seasoned pro like Kurt were slim to none. Kurt would get first place for Abundance, and Blaine would probably get a small token for Evangelista. And perhaps things between he and Kurt would settle by the ball so they could have fun with it.

“Okay, Secret Weapon, at your service!” Blaine agreed. “Now, what do I need to do?”

“Well, we’ll have to get you an outfit. Like something out of the Preppy Handbook.”

Blaine remembered something he had brought with him. Something crumpled in the bottom of his suitcase, that he’d never returned...he didn’t have a chance, as quickly as his family had thrown him out like he was nothing. It had been a sad reminder of his old life. Maybe it could be something new? He held up a hand and said “Just a moment,” then went to his and Angel’s room and brought out the pile of clothing, rumpled and creased. “Can we do something with this?”

He handed it to Blanca, who shook it out. “Well, it needs ironing bad, and it looks like it might be too big on you. “

“Yeah...I lost weight since then.” Blaine thought painfully to those first weeks on the street where he was nearly starving. “But you could take it in, right?”

Angel put her arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “I’ll make this thing fit you like a glove,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

“The Category Is...Boooooody!”

As it turned out, Blaine didn’t get a chance to speak to Kurt for the rest of the week. He had a feeling Abundance had put a kibosh on their budding relationship, plus he was certain word had spread that he was walking, making him The Competition.

He hadn’t even seen Kurt...Porcelain ...in the ballroom. Ten City's "That's the Way Love Is" thumped in the background, and he watched as the women walked, each plumped up in all the places women were usually plumped. Sure they were beautiful, but they weren’t really his thing...not like Kurt. Blaine started to sweat in his outfit, and his throat was dry. He asked Papi to get him some water.

Blanca placed a hand on his shoulder. “You look a little nervous. Don’t worry, I have faith in you.”

Blaine responded by wrapping her up in a hug. “Thanks, Blanca. I mean it...for everything.” Feeling Blanca’s arms wrapped around him felt like getting back something he’d lost; something like home.

Pray Tell tapped on the mic. “Thank you, Thank you, clear the floor please...the next category is: Preppy Academy Realness! I want the ultimate Cooley High schoolboys strutting their stuff tonight!”

The DJ started up DeBarge’s “You Wear It Well” and the people in the ballroom clamored to watch, as dancers from the House of Pendavis began to catwalk, wearing their LaCoste and Brooks Brothers finery. Following them was a dancer from House Xtravaganza, who didn’t look like he’d gotten the memo. “Son, that banjie look is gonna get you detention! We said preppy realness, not pimpy!”

When Porcelain stepped out from the crowd to start his walk out, Blaine’s jaw dropped. His hair was coiffed high, as it normally was for balls, and he was wearing a black, double-breasted blazer that looked like raw silk, with a white button-down and a red tie. Below the waist, Kurt had black watch plaid shorts just above the knee, and black leather riding boots. Who knew knees could be so fucking sexy? Blaine thought to himself.

“Ooh, here comes Porcelain...giving me shy schoolboy, giving me Joey MacIntyre, cause he’s the New Kid on the Block! His eyes looking for the cutest boy in school to give him directions…”

Blaine nearly missed his cue, staring at Kurt’s beauty, but Blanca and Angel nudged him back to reality. “It’s your time to shine, baby,” Blanca said. “Good luck!”

“Don’t fuck it up!” Angel added.

Blaine shook off any remaining nerves and stepped into the center of the room for the first time. He barely heard Pray Tell over the crowd: “Okay hookers, pay attention, for making his debut tonight, fulfilling aaaaall your schoolboy fantasies, giving you The Dalton School realness, Blaine Evangelistaaaaa!”

Blaine focused on the task at hand, bringing as much sass and confidence as he could muster. Pray’s descriptions didn’t hurt his ego. “He is serving us some Teen Angel! I’d say he’s serving Dead Poet’s Society except this look has me liviiiiiiiing!”

He gave himself a moment before glancing in Kurt’s direction. Kurt’s facade dropped for a second, as Blaine made sure to own his look. He half hoped he recognized the blazer from a long ago Sectionals; Blaine had always wondered if their paths had crossed ever since they talked about Ohio connections, but he’d been sure he’d never forget that face. Kurt seemed impressed by Blaine’s bravado, but soon his face shifted back to a steely resolve; this was a battle, after all, and Blaine had been practicing with Damon and Ricky all week. He knew he was ready.

Kurt threw his shoulders back, tilted his chin to Blaine, and then moved to the music, bringing one hand to his hip while the other slid up his other side, above his head, and sharply his wrist flicked out. Blaine smiled; this was the Kurt he’d begun to fall for that first night, strong, confident, sexy, and itching for a fair fight. Blaine raised his arms over his head, then in a flurry of movement swept his hands around his face and shoulders in a series of poses, just like the others taught him. He was surprised how naturally it came to him, and how much he enjoyed the duel. He tried to match Kurt pose for pose at first, but then each began to improvise, one trying to outdo the other, popping and cat-walking. Kurt at one point bent to the ground, pressed his forearms to the floor, and in a fluid move swung his legs above him and landed in a box dip, eliciting cheers from the crowd. Blaine responded with a perfectly executed duck-walk, combined with some precision hand performance. Soon the boys from the House of Pendavis and Xtravaganza weren’t even trying to dance, instead joining the rest of the crowd as ‘Porcelain’ and Blaine dueled with their vogueing, chanting “pose, pose, pose!” But it was barely a duel; it was like he and Kurt were feeding off each other’s energy, vogueing in perfect synchronicity.

Pray Tell finally decided the competitors had made enough of a statement...there were several categories left to get through. “Okay, I think these butch queens have more than brought it! Let’s get some scores up in here!” The judges scored Pendavis and Xtravaganza well, mostly nines with a few tens thrown in. Blaine began to get nervous, more for Kurt than for himself.

"Now, judges, your scores for Abundance!” The judges raised their scores. “10, 10, 10, 10, 10! Another perfect score for Porcelain of the House of Abundance!” Kurt jumped up and down and smiled from ear to ear, a toothy grin that Blaine adored. He then looked over at Blaine with what looked like an apologetic face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine said over the din of noise. “You deserve it...all of it. Besides, it’s my first ball walking!”

Pray Tell brought back Blaine’s attention. “Now, it’s time for the scores for the latest addition to House of Evangelista.” Blaine suddenly felt Kurt’s hand in his; when did that happen? “Judges, your scores.”

Blaine didn’t hope for much. He knew he did well, and he had so much fun doing it with Kurt, who had a perfect score. What was the likelihood of a tie, anyway? Still, butterflies filled his belly, and the only thing that calmed them were Kurt’s palm pressed against his, their fingers flexing tightly together.

“10, 10, 10, 10, and oh my God 10! Ladies and gentlemen it’s a tie! House of Abundance and House of Evangelista, an unprecedented tie!”

The ballroom exploded, Blaine hearing his house members’ cheers. Before they could get to him to congratulate him, he felt a tug on his hand, and found himself swept up in Kurt’s arms, in a fierce hug. “You did it, Blaine, your first ball and you got a perfect score!”

“We did it,” Blaine cried out. “There’s no way I could have done it without you egging me on.”

The next thing he knew, Kurt’s head was no longer nestled in the crook of his neck, but right in front of him, his breath ghosting across Blaine’s lips and his eyes crinkled in joy. Blaine forgot all about the ball, about Elektra and the House of Abundance, about trophies; all he cared about was this beautiful creature in front of him, his joy emanating from his face. Kurt must have known what was coming, because Blaine saw his eyes pop just before Blaine swept in and pressed his mouth to Kurt’s.

The world fell away, and there was nothing but a whooshing sound in his head as he felt Kurt’s lips moving against his own, soft and slightly wet. His eyes closed, but he could swear he felt Kurt smiling against him. It was his first kiss...he hoped he was doing this right.

It took hearing Elektra’s “what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” to jar them apart. Next thing he knew, Kurt had taken his hand again and pulled him through the crowd, toward the doors and away from the angry voices of Abundance and the joyful whoops and hollers of Evangelista (a particularly hearty “get it, preppy!” was definitely from Papi). They stopped at the sidewalk out front to catch their breath.

“So, where to?” Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled at Blaine, flirtily. “My place is closer. Come on, I know a shortcut.”

They were both breathless when they got to the Abundance loft. Kurt pulled off his boots at the doorway and then led Blaine inside, to the room he shared with Cubby and Lemar. “So...this is it. It’s not much, but…”

“It’s great,” Blaine said, slipping off his blazer. Kurt took it and put it on a hanger, then did the same with his own jacket; hanging them both on a clothing rack that made for a makeshift room divider. Kurt’s little corner was a mirror of everything Blaine knew about him. The cover on the bed was a tasteful dove gray, with artfully arranged throw pillows. Above it was a mosaic of things taped on the wall; a November 1988 Vogue cover (“Anna Wintour’s first...you watch, she’s going to revolutionize the fashion world. I actually recreated that sweater for myself.”), a picture of George Michael from a teen magazine, a swatch of the fabric Kurt had been carrying on that rainy day, and a photo of a young couple with a small child, no more than five. The man was wearing a flannel shirt, a baseball cap, and an affable smile; the woman had bright blue eyes just like Kurt’s, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulders and onto the head of the tot in her arms. Blaine motioned to it. “Your family?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, a tinge of sadness there. “It’s the last picture of us before my mom started to get sick. She has her full head of hair there.”

“You look like her.” Blaine sat on the bed, as Kurt shuffled through a stack of tapes on top of the bureau. He put one in the boom box next to the bed and pressed play. The initial quiet creak of the cassette gears were followed by the opening synth chords of Al B. Sure!’s “Nite and Day.”

“Elektra would kill me if she knew I’d borrowed this. She’s been tearing the place apart trying to find it.”

“Aren’t you worried about them coming home early? I mean after we left like we did?”

Kurt sat next to Blaine. “Trust me, that woman cares way more about being the queen of the ball scene and crushing your house than she cares about where one of her errant children went. I sure as hell won’t be walking the next ball, that’s for sure.” He turned pensive. “Shit!”

“What?”

“We forgot our trophies! That bitch will probably keep it to punish me.”

Blaine tilted Kurt’s chin towards him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Pray Tell won’t let her.”

Kurt just smiled and leaned into Blaine’s touch. When he went in to kiss Blaine, there were no screaming crowds or flashing colored lights this time. Just the muffled sounds of the city, soft music from the foot of the bed, and the rustling of the bedsheets as they shifted, putting their arms around each other. Blaine could hear the soft, wet sounds of their mouths moving together. He felt Kurt’s tongue glide across his lips, asking for entrance; when it slipped inside and met his own, his toes curled in his loafers.

They each undid the other’s tie, barely separating their lips. Blaine moved his hands up and down Kurt’s chest and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “Can I?”

“Of course.” Blaine slipped each button out of its hole and opened Kurt’s shirt, marveling at how the skin and muscle underneath twitched at his touch. His thumb caught on one of Kurt’s nipples, eliciting a gasp. “I can take yours off too, if you want?” At Blaine’s affirming nod, Kurt undid his shirt buttons a bit more quickly and slipped the garment off his shoulders. Blaine was warm all over in spite of having fewer layers. Having another man touching him like this was amazing; having it be Kurt, someone he could very well be falling in love with, was mind-blowing. Kurt braced his hands on either side of Blaine’s body and they moved to lay down. “Is this okay?” Kurt asked.

“More than okay.” Blaine willingly fell onto his back, allowing Kurt to settle above him and deepen the kiss. He kicked off his shoes as they arranged themselves on the narrow bed, Kurt’s weight rested against his body a comforting ballast. Blaine touched every inch of Kurt’s skin he could reach, sweeping his hands from the nape of his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms to the small of his back and up again. Kurt was kissing him all over his throat, chest, and shoulders; every place his lips touched felt like little licks of flame.

Kurt’s hips shifted against his and there he felt what had to be Kurt's cock, twitching and hardening against his thigh. A surprise moan escaped from Blaine’s lips, as his own dick involuntarily responded.

Kurt suddenly rose up. “I’m sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” Blaine protested, boldly reaching to pull Kurt back against him. “It’s wonderful.”

Kurt grinned and kissed Blaine again, resuming his motions. They rutted against each other, their kisses soon devolved to sighs and moans, and Blaine was soon fully hard and rubbing desperately against Kurt until their clothed cocks were lined up perfectly.

“Do you want…unf, to take these off?” Kurt panted. “I, I have protection.”

“I’m so close though,” Blaine whispered, “and, um, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet?”

“It’s fine, this is good.” Kurt kissed him as they continued and increased their pace. “Whatever you want, it’s so good.” As they kept feverishly thrusting, Blaine felt the fire in his groin build and grow, like a pressure cooker about to pop.

“Oh...oh God, Kurt!” Blaine whined, as his cock pulsed and he began to cum. He buried his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck and sucked on the tender skin there. It must have done something to Kurt because he heard Kurt cry out, followed by the feeling of Kurt’s own cock twitching out its own release. As their breath slowed, they clung to each other, and Blaine held on for dear life. Next to Blanca, Kurt had just become the most important thing in the world.

Kurt started to giggle. He raised his head from Blaine’s shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” Blaine smiled. His bliss soon turned to discomfort, however, as the mess in his underwear began to turn tacky. “Ugh, how can something so amazing end up so gross?”

“Hey, I gave you the chance to take off the pants,” Kurt teased. “But I get you weren’t up for it. So how was your first time?”

Blaine looked at Kurt like he couldn’t believe he’d ask that question. “It was incredible. You, are incredible,” He reached up and brushed his fingers through Kurt’s hair, bringing his head down for a kiss. “And I’ll bet our second, and third, and every time after that will be even better.”

Just then they heard commotion in the loft. “Porcelain! You had better come out here and explain to your Mother what came over you to embarrass MY house!”

"Shit,” Kurt said. He grabbed Blaine’s shirt from the floor while Blaine put his shoes back on. “Fire escape, over here! She may be mad at me, but she’ll murder you!”

“What about you?” Blaine whispered as he pulled his shirt on while simultaneously climbing onto the fire escape.

“Don’t worry about me--she’ll have a temper tantrum and then probably run to her sugar daddy. Worst comes to worst, you think Blanca has enough room?” Kurt said, with one last kiss that Blaine barely pulled from before Elektra could spot him. “Now go!” Blaine scrambled down the escape to the street below. As he walked home, he wondered if he could talk the others into a new roommate...just in case.

...Blanca made room.