What if he says no?

What if he has plans?

What if he doesn't have plans, but doesn't want to make any plans with me because I'm an arrogant, showy prat with too much gel in my hair?

Well, the last one was a bit harsh- and he knew for a fact Kurt enjoyed his company. Furthermore, he wasn't even asking the younger boy on a proper date. It would just be two friends…hanging out…at Blaine's house…without parental supervision…

Blaine shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. He wouldn't allow himself to go down that road. Because he did want to ask Kurt out- properly, using all the chivalry and charm he had in him and sweeping Kurt off his dainty feet- but he knew he couldn't. He could still remember the pain on Kurt's face after their confrontation with Karofsky. Blaine had wanted so badly to kiss him right then. To give him the kind of first kiss he deserved. But he had been so confused and upset, Blaine panicked and made some half-assed attempt to cheer him up with food. Looking back, he knew it was a dumb move. Your first kiss was just stolen by some closeted brute with more pent up anger then Bruce Banner? Pasta salad will make it all better! Idiot.

No, he would not ask Kurt out. He needed a friend and a mentor, not a boyfriend. Especially not one who tended to act like a complete idiot when he was nervous. Which he often was when Kurt was in the room.

Still, here Blaine stood, trying to gather the courage (friggin' irony) to invite Kurt to hang out at his house for the afternoon. Not a date. Not a date. Not a date…

*Knock Knock Knock*

The response was immediate. "It's open!" Kurt's voice rang clearly through the wood of the door, and Blaine took one more deep breathe before going in.

He had never been in Kurt's room before- not since he had moved in at least. All the Dalton dorms had the same basic set up- two twin beds on opposite sides, a desk for each student parallel to each, with a small living room type set up off to the side. TV's, mini-fridges and even the occasional foosball table were not uncommon, but if you wanted one you had to bring your own.

Blaine was not surprised to find, after a cursory glance, that Kurt had none of these (he knew his financial situation wasn't optimal for Dalton's fees). What he was surprised to find, was that Kurt had one of the most nicely decorated dorm rooms he had ever seen. It was like Martha Steward had gone on a shopping spree at Peir One Imports. Ornate throw pillows dotted Kurt's caramel colored bedspread, decorative mirrors accompanied the old-fashioned posters of Paris on the walls, and in one sweep Blaine had spotted three jars of potpourri, two Peruvian urns and a floor screen that looked like it was better suited for a Victorian mansion then a dorm room.

"What do you think?" Kurt had been lying stomach down on his bed, listening to music on his laptop when Blaine had entered, but he sat up up now, his voice and face hinting at a desperate hope of approval.

"It's… incredible." The younger boy smiled at his praise. "How…how could you afford all this?" He walked around, admiring each item. "Over the years I have pretty much mastered the art of decorating on a budget. I even wrote to Martha Steward Living once- you'd think after three years of subscribing they'd at least give me the chance to give them a few pointers, but like everywhere else people see the words 'Lima, Ohio' and conjure up some ridiculous picture of a stay at home mom painting her old Windex bottles to use as vases." He rolled his eyes. "Bigots."

"And one day you'll take the world by storm and set them all straight…so to speak." This time when Kurt smiled it was accompanied by a hint of a blush.

"We can only hope. So what's up?"

"Hm?" Blaine had been momentarily distracted by Kurt's DVD collection- was there any Julie Andrews movie he didn't own?- and looked up.

"I assume your not here just to admire my choice in color scheme."

"Oh! Right! Well…" Crap, why was he so nervous? Stupid Kurt and his gorgeously intimidating room. "Usually on Saturdays Wes, David and I hang at my house- kind of a weekend tradition, time to relax, blow off steam- anyway, well Wes and David can't come today - some girlfriend crisis- and I was hoping…if you weren't too busy…"

"Oh." Kurt's face fell, and his next words had a hint of malice in them. "So… I'm your back up. Your friends bailed and no one else is free on such short notice."

"What? No. No! Kurt, that's not it at all!" Shit! How was one human capable of screwing up so much while saying so little? "No, I was planning on inviting you anyway. I was!" He realized he was getting a little hysterical, but there was no way he would allow Kurt to think he was sloppy seconds. "I tried to ask you yesterday after Calc but you were out the door before I had a chance and then Warbler rehearsal…But no, Kurt. You are not my second choice."

Kurt relaxed visibly. "Oh okay. Sorry about-"

"No it's my fault, I wasn't clear-"

"It's just that I'm not used to guys wanting to hang out with me so-"

"I'm not great with word choice. I really do want you to come-"

"Usually guys avoid me in fact-"

"I thought you'd be headed back home for the weekend-"

"The point is-"

"I'm sorry." They had said it at the same time. Blaine laughed awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. Kurt mercifully followed suit, and changed the subject.

"So, you live far from here...?"

"Not at all, it's about a ten minute drive. Since Wes and David always have Sunday morning plans we usually just chill at my house til around ten and then head back here. It's kinda pointless, but when you basically live at school...any excuse ya know?"

"Right."

Another awkward silence.

"So...would we leave now?"

"Oh-sure! I mean if you're ready to go-"

"I'm set."

"Sweet then let's..."

"Yeah." Blaine opened the door and let Kurt take the lead to the student parking lot, while Blaine silently thanked God that Wes and David had bailed. Had those two clowns witnessed h would never live it down.

The car ride was better. Something about having already started off on an uneasy foot gave the feeling that things couldn't really get any worse. In fact the actually got better. Blaine let Kurt fiddle with the radio.

After a few tries he settled on a station playing an easy-breezy type of song. As the melody drifted through the car, Blaine was content to spend the rest of the ride in silence, Kurt humming to himself and gazing at the passing scenery until the countertenor asked asked teasingly,

"So your parents won't mind that you're bringing home a stray?"

"If every stray I brought home was like you Kurt, I have a feeling my parents wouldn't mind at all."

Kurt looked down, blushing slightly. "Like me?"

Blaine gulped, but moved on quickly, determined not to make a complete ass of himself.

"Anyway, you probably won't even get to meet my parents tonight."

"I thought you said we were going to stay til ten? You're parents won't be home before ten at night? Hard party-ers are they?"

"Haha, no. My mom is partner at a law firm, so she works crazy hours, and my dad travels for work so I rarely see him anymore."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No don't be. My mom are still really close, we talk and Skype all the time. My dad...well let's just see we've never had the best relationship, so I don't really mind." Blaine could see out of the corner of his eye that Kurt was still frowning sympathetically.

"Still, that must have been hard growing up."

"Well my mom only accepted the partner job a couple of years ago. Before that, when I was younger she did most of her work from home." Blaine smiled, remembering the sight of his mother, surrounded by paperwork as he would run around her desk, fending off imaginary enemies with a makeshift wand. She would smile, pull him up into her lap and say 'Now since when is it your job to protect me?'. Blaine would then puff out his chest and say with all the confidence a 6 year old could muster, 'Since I'm a big strong man! I'll protect you from all bad stuff in the world and be ch-ch-chiv-erl-ous and...and just awesome!'. And his mother would laugh and tell him thank you so much brave knight and can your fair damsel make you some lunch?

"Anyway, once I'd settled into Dalton she asked me if I was okay if she took the partner job. It was tough at first, coming home to an empty house every night so a month later we decided that it would be better for me to board at Dalton."

He did miss those days. He missed being about to talk to her about boys and school and singing. She wasn't gone- not like Kurt's mom was, and he was thankful for that, no question- and she would call often to check up on him, but nowadays he found it harder and harder to talk to her like he used to. He was supposed to be the strong, independent teenager. He was supposed to have control, to have things figured out. He hated the idea of his mother thinking he was...weak.

"Wow."

Blaine hadn't even noticed he had pulled into the driveway of his own house until Kurt's voice brought him back.

"Your house is...wow." Kurt seemed pretty impressed, and Blaine seriously hoped it was only in a good way. He didn't want to give the impression he was flaunting his money (although in hindsight driving Kurt to his house in his Mini Cooper while talking about his parents' well paying jobs probably hadn't helped).

The two boys walked in, and Blaine gave him a short tour-kitchen, living room, band room, game-room porch, pool...and by the end he felt like a seriously arrogant rich boy. Kurt didn't seem to mind though, taking in everything with interest without ogling.

The evening proceeded, easier now that. They talked, laughed, played video games (when the heck had Kurt gotten so good at Mario Kart?) and watched half of Pride and Prejudice before Blaine's stomach loudly demanded for a dinner break.

"Left-over pizza okay?" Kurt nodded, still gazing dreamily at Matthew Macfadyen's face frozen on the screen. Blaine smiled to himself.

"And here I had you pegged for a Hugh Jackman fan." Kurt made a face.

"Please. Too rugged for my taste. Give me charming over brawny any day."

"And so the mystery of Kurt Hummel deepens." Blaine rummaged around the kitchen for a few moments, getting the pizza ready and wondering if he would ever unravel that mystery completely, when he caught sight of the clock. It was 7:20. He smiled.

"Hey Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"Come here for a second. I want to show you something." Kurt rose as Blaine headed for the deck, signaling Kurt to follow. He did, but at the last second Blaine said,

"Wait. Close your eyes." The countertenor raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.

"Come on. Trust me." He took Kurt's hand, smiling encouragingly. Kurt simply huffed and shut his eyes, allowing Blaine to lead him through the house, up the stairs and through the sliding glass door that led to the deck. Kurt's face scrunched up in confusion when he realized they were outside, but before he could ask Blaine positioned him in front of the wooden railing and said,

"Okay, open."

Kurt gasped.

The view before them was beyond beautiful; the small wood at the back of Blaine's house was green and lush, with bright flowers dotting the landscape. A symphony of birds was joined by the babbling of a small ravine. But the sun setting beyond the tree-line, illuminating the entire scene with a warm golden light was what made it truly magical.

"Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

That's what he should have said. It wasn't like he didn't want to- Kurt's face lit up by the sun and his smile had made his heart melt against his will; never had he wanted to kiss anyone that badly in his life. And with those four little words, maybe he could have.

But that wasn't what he said. And he would spend a good amount of his time in the weeks to come kicking himself for it.

"What's up?" Kurt was waiting for him to say something.

"I uh...I think the pizza is ready."

"Oh right."

The evening was lost after that. Nothing had really changed- the two still laughed, watched movies and had a pretty good time until his dad called saying he should probably come home because he was needed for help in the shop early tomorrow- but Blaine still spent the rest of the evening feeling like someone was slowly but surely hollowing out his chest.

It was for that reason he decided to sleep at home that night. And as he snuggled under a thick down comforter, clutching a teddy bear that had certainly seen better days he did the something that every teenager with a broken heart has a right to do.

"Hey mom? Yeah it's me...I'm doing...well that's actually why I called. I'm not doing that great. No school is fine it's just...well, it's about this boy..."