How exactly did I get here? Blaine asked himself as he walked down the sidewalk on his way to meet Kurt and Erik. He sighed, running his hands through his loose curls, looking back on the past few years. How could I be in love with my best friend’s boyfriend?
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Blaine Anderson knew love and life and college weren’t supposed to work like this. Nothing about Blaine’s current situation fit into his plan.
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Oh, the plan.� He’d filled pages and pages of spiral notebooks with his hopes for the future. College majors and dream jobs, kids’ names and sketches of the perfect house. He had it all figured out: go to a good school, major in something interesting but not too impossible. Meet the perfect guy and fall head over heels. Woo him and win him and marry him (because, in a few years, it was sure to be legal everywhere). But, most of all, be in love and together and happy.
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How had it all gone so terribly wrong?

Blaine had done most of what he’d planned. He was studying at Northwestern University, one of the best schools in the Midwest. Majoring in journalism and music, Blaine could balance his passion with his realistic goal of having a nice house in the suburbs with a backyard and a tree house for the kids. And Blaine had even met the perfect guy and fallen deeper and faster than he’d ever dreamed he could. But the wooing and the winning? That part hadn’t worked out so well.
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In his freshman year, Blaine lived down the hall from Erik Boden. Tall, blonde, gay, and so effortlessly cool, Erik had inexplicably taken a liking to the short, mop-headed bookworm.� The two debated the strengths of the final Harry Potter book and bonded over Lord of the Rings marathons.� When it came time to pick roommates for their sophomore year, the two didn’t hesitate to select each other and, by junior year, it was as if they had always been best friends. People knew them as Erik-and-Blaine and Blaine-and-Erik, as two parts of a whole, two people completely connected.
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But Blaine Anderson didn’t fall in love with Erik Boden. That would have probably been simpler, easier, more sensible. No, instead Blaine Anderson fell for the elusive and mystifying Kurt Hummel.
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Kurt first waltzed into Blaine’s life on a Wednesday, in the first lecture of a music theoryy class. A gifted music major, Kurt possessed a grace that left Blaine captivated. As days turned into weeks Blaine worked up the nerve to do more than stare longingly at Kurt and the two formed a tentative friendship. Shyly navigating unfamiliar territory, Blaine asked Kurt out to coffee and the boy, the beautiful boy, accepted.� By the end of their first semester, it was assumed that they would meet every Monday and Wednesday before lecture to laugh about Vogue and Broadway and their bewildering attempts to figure out what in the world they were doing with their lives.
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One Wednesday, as ordinary as any other, Blaine invited Erik along, innocently hoping to introduce his best friend to the boy with whom he was besotted. But, just like much of his life, the day didn’t go according to Blaine’s plan.
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Erik spent the first fifteen minutes alternating between staring at his coffee and staring at Kurt, barely uttering a word. Amused and clueless, Blaine rambled on about how he could make a Wicked movie perfectly, if only he had the chance. He knew just how he’d persuade Idina and Kristen to join the project and he debated the relative merits of a few different directors. Would it be too much to direct and play Fiyero?
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After half an hour, Erik squeaked out a few sentences and finally asked Kurt if he would join him for dinner that Friday night. Flustered but smiling shyly, Kurt had accepted, effectively breaking Blaine’s heart.
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In all fairness, Blaine hadn’t exactly told Erik about his feelings for Kurt, but he had thought it to be obvious. �How could Erik, his best friend, not realize that he was head over heels?
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A few weeks later, Erik asked Blaine if it had been his plan all along: to set Erik up with Kurt, his clearly perfect match. Blaine’s stomach dropped as he nodded, rewriting history, pretending that he’d been intentionally playing matchmaker from the beginning.
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Over the next few months, Blaine endured hours of reliving every one of Erik and Kurt’s dates in excruciating detail. �What Kurt wore and what Kurt said and how Kurt laughed and wasn’t Kurt perfect? And smart and funny and beautiful? And how could Erik possibly be lucky enough to call Kurt his boyfriend?
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Erik wouldn’t stop badgering Blaine for details about Kurt’s likes and dislikes but, as much as it pained Blaine to admit it, Kurt seemed truly happy. So Blaine let him be.
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He helped the pair through squabbles and silent treatments and misunderstandings.� They affectionately called him “Cupid,” and Blaine wiped away tears as he lay in bed, wondering what could have been. �More times than he could rightfully acknowledge, Blaine imagined himself in Erik’s shoes: holding Kurt’s soft, perfect hands, playing the guitar as he and Kurt sang a romantic duet, gazing deep into each other eyes, Kurt’s beautiful voice soaring high above Blaine’s. He pictured their first date and their fortieth date and everything in between. He could almost feel Kurt’s smooth lips on his own, the feel of Kurt’s supple hair between his fingers.
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~~~

What do you do, what can you do, when your best friend falls for the boy of your dreams? Nothing. The answer was painful and simple and honest: nothing. Blaine could only sit back and watch, as what he hoped would be a quick fling became a serious relationship. Before he knew it, Erik and Kurt were celebrating their first anniversary and Blaine resigned himself to heart-breaking, gut-wrenching unrequited love. And it was miserable.
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Blaine’s attempts to move on were half-hearted at best and, more often than not, laughingly pathetic. He dated here and there, and, after witnessing particularly loving exchanges between his two closest friends, made out with few strangers. None of his flings lasted for longer than Kurt’s beauty regimen, but in a strange way, each one served its purpose. With each new distraction, Blaine compared the new boy less and less to Kurt. And every day, Blaine changed his perception of Kurt more and more: Kurt eventually stopped being his all together and became Erik’s.
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So, a year after that fateful trip for coffee, Blaine resigned himself to call Kurt his friend. Nothing more and nothing less.
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~~~
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Blaine had let it slip three times. He had admitted, in particularly weak and stupid moments, that he was in love with Kurt. Once it was to his roommate freshman year. Once to Erik. And once to Kurt himself.
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Blaine’s roommate Drew Cassidy�was an aspiring poet. Over the course of their freshman year, Drew spent hours chain smoking, drinking earl grey and scribbling stanzas on napkins.
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One day, suffering from a terrible bout of writer’s block and desperately seeking a muse, Drew asked Blaine to tell him about love. Blaine had gone on to describe the exact feeling that swept over him every time Kurt was near: the feeling that the sky could turn red and the grass could burst into flames and the world could end, but it would all be okay as long as Blaine got to be with Kurt until the end. He detailed the understanding that he would do anything to make Kurt happy, even if it meant he sacrificed his own happiness in the process. He explained how you could love so strongly that you actually felt it, your heart swelling in your chest, about to burst.
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Drew grinned, jotting down notes here and there and, when Blaine finally finished his heartfelt speech, Drew chuckled and said, “So who’s the guy?”� Unable to deny it, Blaine told Drew all about Kurt. Drew knew Erik and understood the bond the two boys shared and so he nodded in all the right places and expressed his concern.� Drew knew, as Blaine did, that even in spite of the most powerful love, Blaine couldn’t bring himself to forsake friendship.
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A few months later, in an act of much greater foolishness, Blaine confessed his feelings to Erik. There was some yelling and a few choice curse words before Erik grasped the idea that Blaine had merely fallen under Kurt’s spell, just as Erik had.� Blaine didn’t choose to love Kurt, nor did he particularly want to.� There was no blame to be assigned, no anger to feel because, when it comes to love and matters of the heart, there never is.
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Why does love captivate us and enchant us as it does? Why are songs and books and sonnets written about its amazing power? How is it that love is the one thing that can connect us all and yet rip us apart? Love wouldn’t posses any of these qualities if it was open to our consideration.� If we elected to love those whom we did, the world would be a much simpler place.� But its very nature, its all-consuming power, is exactly what makes love what it is. The fact that we don’t choose the ones we love is scary and heartbreaking and often unfair, but it also gives love the air of mystery and of magic. We can never explain it nor predict it nor control it.

And so Erik and Blaine understood that they were both powerless. Nothing could be done, they simply had to accept it: they were both in love with Kurt Hummel.
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Finally, the third, most foolish slip-up. In the middle of their sophomore year, after Kurt had first played an original composition on the piano for Blaine, Blaine could no longer keep quiet. It escaped his lips first as a whisper, “I love you.”
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Kurt had taken a sharp breath and quietly asked, “You what?”
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Realizing he had accidently uttered the words out loud, Blaine had stuttered and finally replied, “I just meant I, uh, I love it. The song…it’s beautiful. You’re really talented Kurt.”
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Blaine’s acting was embarrassingly bad and Kurt didn’t believe him for a second. “No, you said you loved me. You love me. Not the song. You…Blaine!” Kurt eyes were wide and scared as he wailed and Blaine grimaced in response.
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“Well, yeah. I guess this is a problem.” Blaine said lamely, avoiding Kurt’s stare.
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Kurt laughed scathingly, “A problem? That’s only a huge understatement, Blaine. You can’t! You can’t love me!” Kurt began to pace and Blaine watched, becoming equally frazzled.
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“Do you think it’s something I can control? Something I want? Of course not!” Blaine replied, frustration clear in his voice. “I know you’re with Erik and you love him and…” Blaine’s took a frantic breath and, raking his fingers though his hair cried,� “Erik’s my best friend!”
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Blaine covered his eyes with his hands and his voice dropped to a whisper once more. “He’s my best friend,” he said sighing, “But that doesn’t do anything to change the fact that you’re you.” Kurt stopped pacing and listened as Blaine continued, “You’re…well, Kurt…,” Blaine finally brought his eyes to meet Kurt’s shocked ones, “ you’re everything to me.”
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Kurt gazed back at Blaine, speechless and Blaine continued, “I can’t help it. I just…” Blaine heaved another sigh, “I just know that I will never stop loving you.”
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Kurt’s eyes were wide and brimmed with tears as Blaine leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Kurt’s forehead. “Never,” Blaine repeated.
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~~~
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Blaine found his thoughts drifting to Kurt, as they often did. He wondered what Kurt was doing: where he was, if Kurt was thinking of him, too.
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But that was friendship, right?� Blaine was just Kurt’s friend. Friends called each other and talked for hours about their hopes and dreams and fears.� Friends shared inside jokes and complicated stories. Friends gossiped and laughed and hugged. But did friends stare at each other, completely transfixed, from across crowded rooms? Did they feel a leap of excitement if their hands accidentally brushed while walking side by side? Friends might kiss each other on the cheek in greeting, but did lips linger on smooth skin, savoring the contact they so desperately craved? Friends missed each other dreadfully when they were apart and worried about each other when they were sick and thought about each other when they were lonely. But did friends think of each other the way Blaine thought of Kurt?
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“And, of course, you’ll be the best man.”
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Blaine nearly spit out his coffee. “I’m sorry, what?!” Clearly he hadn’t been doing a good job of disguising his distraction, as Kurt chuckled and rolled his eyes in response.
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“Erik’s just going on about our wedding,” he explained ruefully. “It’s really nothing.”
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“Nothing?! Your wedding?” Blaine’s eyes widened further as he continued, “How much of this conversation did I miss, exactly?”
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Erik laughed and reached for Kurt’s hand, squeezing it gently as he responded, “Not much. It’s just that when it happens; when I finally make an honest man of my dear Kurt over here,” Kurt blushed and dropped his gaze to his mug, “you know you’ll be standing right next to me. Right? How could you not be?”
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Blaine struggled to form a response. When it happens. �Not if. When. So they were planning on getting married? Not tomorrow or next month but someday?� Blaine felt his breathing get short and fast. How could this have happened? Didn’t they just start going out? Wasn’t Kurt supposed to have realized by now that it wasn’t Erik he loved at all, but Blaine?
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Don’t be stupid, a voice in his head said reproachfully, sounding, oddly enough, like a combination of his mother and Drew. Kurt sees you exactly as you are: his best friend. And they’ve been together for two years. Marriage is a reasonable thing to contemplate. Just because you never had the balls to make a move…
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“Blaine, are you feeling okay?” Kurt’s worried gaze met Blaine’s frazzled eyes, concern etched on his forehead. “Is something wrong?”

Blaine scolded himself for being so ridiculous and shook his head. “I’m fine, really. Just freaking out about the future, as usual. The whole marriage thing, you know. Jobs and houses and babies. It’s overwhelming, that’s all.”
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Erik laughed and continued laying out his plans for “The Best Gay Wedding Ever” and Blaine tried to calm himself down. But Kurt’s eyes didn’t leave Blaine’s, worry still evident on his lovely face. Blaine couldn’t shake the feeling that Kurt understood the cause of Blaine’s meltdown a little too well.
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~~~
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Kurt stormed into Blaine’s room, eyes ablaze, hair disheveled, cheeks pink.
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“You can’t just do that!” he yelled. “You can’t just tell me you love me after months, after months of acting like we were just friends. After setting me up with your best friend! You can’t, Blaine! It’s not fair!”
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Kurt paced around Blaine’s room and Blaine sat, stunned, on his rainbow beanbag chair, eyes full of concern. He had left Kurt alone in the practice room after kissing him on the forehead, sure that, while Kurt might not recover from his revelation immediately, he was mostly okay about it all. He certainly wasn’t expecting one very pissed off Kurt Hummel to come crashing into his room minutes later.
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“You’re not allowed to be romantic and kind and sweet, because I’m not yours! I’m with Erik, Blaine! You can’t just say those things.” Kurt stopped pacing and took a breath.
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“Where were you last year? The first few weeks of class? When it was just you and me and coffee dates and Vogue and…” Kurt trailed off and when he spoke again, the anger had disappeared, replaced with pain and regret. In a soft voice full of hurt he asked, “Just, why now, Blaine? Why not then? Why couldn’t you have told me then?”
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Blaine stood up and crossed the room, gently placing his hands on Kurt’s cheeks, looking him in the eyes. “I wanted to, I did.” Kurt blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek, either from anger or sadness, Blaine couldn’t tell. “I just didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. And then with Erik…I never meant for it to happen. I wanted my best friend to meet the boy I loved.” Kurt inhaled and tried to speak so Blaine rushed on, “and then you two hit it off and what kind of friend would I have been to either of you if I had stopped that? I was stuck!” Blaine wiped Kurt’s tear away with his thumb and stroked Kurt’s cheek gently. “I am stuck. I’m stuck, Kurt, and there’s nothing I can do.”
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Tears rolled down Blaine’s cheeks and he pulled Kurt in for a hug, arms wrapping around the other boy, savoring the warmth and contact he so desperately desired.� “I’m so sorry,” Blaine finished. “You don’t know how sorry.”
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Kurt pulled back and his watery eyes met Blaine’s teary brown ones. “Oh, Blaine,” Kurt sighed and rested his forehead against Blaine’s, closing his eyes.
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They stayed like that for a while. Maybe they were crying for Erik and for the unfairness of it all. Maybe for each other, for themselves. Maybe they were mourning what could have been. The missed opportunities and the mistakes they had made.� Eventually, Kurt composed himself, kissed Blaine on the cheek and left with a mere, “I’m sorry, too,” as a goodbye.