I keep throwing it down two-hundred at a time
It's hard to find it when you knew it
When your money's gone
And you're drunk as hell

What is friendship, really? Is it sacrificing your needs and your wants and even your whole self for someone else? Is it knowing that you deserve something, but giving it to another person instead?
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And what is more powerful: true love or true friendship? If relationships come and go but friendships never fade, then why aren’t don’t call our best friends our soul mates?
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Friendship doesn’t keep us awake at night, tossing and turning as we analyze insignificant details and imagine the things to come. Friendship doesn’t eat at us from the inside out, leaving us raw and miserable. Friendship doesn’t cause wars or make babies or yield both indescribable happiness and unfathomable despair. Friendship doesn’t, but love does. And true love? Soul mates and fate and destiny? Aren’t they even stronger?
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So, where do we draw the line? Is it acceptable to sacrifice friendship for love? Are we allowed to betray a friend in the name of destiny?
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~~~
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Blaine would never forget the day he realized exactly how strongly he felt for Kurt; realized it wasn’t just love that would fade over time, or flickering desire that he would soon forget.
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It was the end of their sophomore year and, after grabbing coffee at their favorite caf�, Blaine and Kurt had been walking to Kurt’s dorm, debating, as they often did, something Broadway-related. Erik had gotten them tickets to see Les Miserables, and both boys were thrilled.� Kurt was trying to convince Blaine that everything was better in French, explaining that when he watched the original musical on YouTube, the experience was all the more incredible.
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“I just don’t understand how a language makes that big of a difference!” Blaine insisted with a laugh. “French, English, English, French. Who cares? The music is amazing, the story classic. What more do you want?”
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Kurt scoffed and crossed his arms, “You just don’t get it! English is such a boring language, so ugly and harsh. But, French! French is elegant and pure.” Kurt smiled wistfully, and Blaine shrugged his shoulders.
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“You’re right. I don’t get it.” Blaine admitted as the boys reached Kurt’s dorm. “To me, music is music.� The words could be gibberish and it would still move me.”
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Kurt smiled at Blaine’s response. He giggled and said, “Everything moves you. ‘The moon, Kurt! Just look at the moon!’” Kurt changed his voice to mimic Blaine’s, imitating the boy’s unquenchable enthusiasm. “’Did you see that old couple, Kurt? Weren’t they just adorable?! You have to listen to this song, Kurt! It’s life-changing.’ God, you’re so cheesy.” Kurt smiled and Blaine understood Kurt meant it all in kindness.� Blaine might be cheesy, but Kurt found it endearing.
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Blaine laughed along with Kurt, a light blush gracing his features. As they neared the music practice room on the first floor of Kurt’s building, Kurt slowed and came to a stop. “I have the perfect idea!” he exclaimed, his grin wide and bright. “You don’t believe that French is better than English? I’ll prove it to you.”
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Kurt led a perplexed Blaine into the room and shut the door behind them.� Blaine sat down on the piano bench, confused etched on his face. Kurt sat next to him and began to play a soft tinkling melody. “It’s Qulqu’un M’a Dit, have you heard it?” Blaine slowly shook his head, watching as Kurt’s fingers glided over the keys. “It’s beautiful. And it’s got this great, haunting message.”
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Blaine sat, transfixed, as Kurt began to sing in perfect, bewitching French, “On me dit que noe view ne valen pas grand chose. Elles passent en un instant comme fnent les roses.” As Blaine listened, he started to see Kurt’s side of the argument. He had heard Kurt sing countless times, but there was just something different about this. It seemed more intimate, more emotional. Had he truly not noticed how beautiful French was before this moment?
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�“Il s’en fait des manteaux pourtant quelgu’un m’a dit. Pourtant que tu m’aimais encore. C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore. Serais ce possible alors?” Kurt continued to play for a few minutes after he stopped singing, graceful fingers moving up and down the keys. He finally stopped and turned to meet Blaine’s gaze.
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Blaine was surprised by the emotion he found in Kurt eyes. Unless he was mistaken, Kurt looked…well, he looked the way Blaine imagined he himself looked when he thought of Kurt. Kurt’s eyes were so full of love and passion, Blaine felt breathless.

Blaine broke the eye contact, blinked a few times and before he knew it, the moment was gone. Kurt was just Kurt, looking at him like he always did. Surely Blaine had imagined it, hadn’t he?
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“That was…” Blaine struggled to find the right words to describe the incredible thing he had just witnessed. Perfect and breathtaking just didn’t seem to cut it. And he couldn’t exactly tell Kurt he was so captivated by Kurt’s talent that, for a minute, he’d forgotten his name and where he was and what he was doing. All he had known was the beautiful boy with the singular voice sitting next to him. In that moment, Blaine knew that it was true, what he’d been fearing and feeling for the past few months: he was more than just in love with Kurt. And he wasn’t going to get over Kurt any time soon.
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Blaine continued slowly, meaning every word, “Kurt, that was the most amazing thing I have ever heard.” Kurt blushed a beautiful pink and Blaine added, “And I saw Katy Perry and Lady Gaga live last year.”
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Kurt’s ringing laugh made Blaine’s heart sing and he smiled. “So, oh French connoisseur, what does it mean?”
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Kurt hesitated, trying to think of an apt translation. “Basically,” he replied, “it’s a love song. It’s about how life is short, and fate plays tricks on you and nothing works out the way you plan. But sometimes love surprises you.”
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Kurt took a breath and paused. He turned to look at Blaine straight on as he continued, “The chorus is something like ‘someone told me you still loved me. Could that be possible?’” Kurt’s eyes were searching and hopeful as they met Blaine’s.
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Blaine felt breathless as his head spun. Kurt’s eyes were locked on his and his lips were so close to Blaine’s own and they looked so soft and perfect. If only Blaine could bridge the small distance between them and find out for sure. If only Blaine could take Kurt in his arms and tell him that yes, of course he still loved him. Blaine sighed and the noise seemed to bring Kurt out of his trance.� Kurt inhaled sharply and stood up, eyes wide with confusion and pain.
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“I’ve really got to…” Kurt started, gathering his things. “I have to go and see…”
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“Yeah, of course.” Blaine said, knowing full well that Kurt had nowhere to be. Kurt left in a tizzy and Blaine dropped his head into his hands. What was that? He couldn’t have possibly been imagining the look in Kurt’s eyes.� The look of longing and love and hope that Blaine was sure mirrored his own.
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Kurt didn’t go with Erik and Blaine to the theatre that night.� He told Erik he was sorry, but he was getting a terrible cold and he couldn’t risk hurting his voice this close to term ending. Kurt insisted the two boys still go and so, unable to find a third person to accompany them, Kurt’s seat remained empty next to Blaine’s. Ever the concerned boyfriend, Erik fretted over Kurt, harassing Blaine with questions, but once the overture began, he was swept up by the incredible orchestral sound.� Blaine sat, glancing every so often at the chair next to him, wondering what Kurt was doing, what he had been thinking earlier that day.� Blaine couldn’t help but think that, while he had been imagining the two of them sharing a kiss, Kurt was doing the same thing.
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Someone told you still loved me. Could that be possible?
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~~~
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When Blaine saw Kurt the following day, they both acted as if nothing had happened; as if that moment in the practice room hadn’t been terrifying and breathtaking for both of them.� They went back to the way things were before because, really, nothing had changed. Kurt was still with Erik. Blaine was still Blaine, conflicted and confused, and lovesick and alone.
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Under the surface though, everything had changed. Kurt was more confused than ever, the lines dividing his friendship with Blaine and their undeniable connection blurring more and more. He wished he could just forget that day entirely, un-think the thoughts of Blaine and his eyes and his smile and his lips, but, try as he might, he couldn’t.
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Blaine knew he could never go back. He knew now what he had only guessed at before: Kurt was it for him. Kurt was the one, his soul mate, his destiny, his fate. Whatever you wanted to call it, Kurt was it. And Blaine would be in love with him, mutually or not, for as long as he lived.
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~~~
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On your back with your racks as the stacks are your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks of your load
In the back with your racks and you're un-stacking your load
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~~~
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“So Erik was going a bit crazy today, wasn’t he?” Kurt asked as he and Blaine made their way through the snow. The boys were on the way to practice for upcoming evaluations. Practicing with Kurt always left Blaine confused: did Kurt’s eyes linger on Blaine’s for longer than necessary, or was he just imagining things? Was Kurt’s song choice, one of conflicting feelings and missed opportunities, purposeful or just coincidental?
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“That man never surprises me anymore.� Ever since New Year’s freshman year, I expect the unexpected.” Kurt and Blaine shared a laugh as they recalled Erik’s infamous New Year’s incident that involved a bit too much vodka, dancing on tables and unforgettably off-key renditions of Britney Spears songs.
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“But really, Blaine. It was a bit much.” Kurt touched Blaine’s coat-covered shoulder, stopping Blaine in his path. “I’m sorry. You know how he gets. Once he commits to something he commits. And I guess I’m just like everything else. We’re just like everything else.”
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Kurt sighed and plopped down on a nearby bench, resting his head in his hands. Blaine joined him, concerned and, dare he admit it, hesitantly hopeful that Kurt didn’t share Erik’s enthusiasm for their wedding plans.
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“It’s just a bit terrifying: having your future all planned out. What if I don’t want to be anybody’s husband? What if I want to just be Kurt Hummel for a while? I love Erik,� I do…but it’s like you said. Jobs and houses and babies. It’s overwhelming, maybe too overwhelming. I don’t know…” Kurt trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
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So that explained Kurt’s look of recognition at coffee. Of course, thought Blaine. He wasn’t thinking about us. He just recognizes in me that same petrifying fear he’s been hiding from Erik. Of course.
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“Do you think it might be Erik?” Blaine asked, recovering from his disappointment.� Kurt frowned, confused, so Blaine continued, “That maybe the reason you’re overwhelmed isn’t getting married or changing your name or being tied down? That what’s scaring you is doing all of those things with Erik?”
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“Blaine, I don’t thi-“ Kurt started, but Blaine held up his hand.
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“No, just listen: I think that maybe, you’re not that attached to being Kurt Hummel at all. I think you’re just afraid to be Kurt Boden.” Kurt opened his mouth as if to continue and Blaine rushed on, “I’m not trying to pry or stick my foot into something that’s completely not my business. But, well, it kind of is my business.” Blaine nudged Kurt playfully with his shoulder, “You’re my business. You’re my friend. One of my best friends. And I’m just trying to understand why, all of the sudden, the idea of spending your life with your boyfriend of two years is scaring you.”
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Kurt took a deep breath and nodded, “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to understand, too.”
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“I think,” Blaine took Kurt’s soft hand in his and went on, “I think it might not be you. I think it might be him. You with him.” Blaine rubbed Kurt’s hand with his thumb, making circles on the flawless skin, �“I’m Erik’s biggest fan, you know that. But if it’s the right person, all that commitment and future stuff? It’s supposed to be exciting! And exhilarating.”

Blaine smiled and said, “Trust me. When it’s the right person, you’ll want all of those things, and not just because you think you have to.”
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Blaine ended his little speech and Kurt squeezed his hand softly, heaving a deep sigh as he rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder.� When it’s the right person, it’ll feel like this, Blaine thought. It will feel just like this.
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~~~
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Sometimes, Blaine wished he could hate Erik. If only he could muster up the feelings of loathing and abhorrence, then he could justify everything.� But he just couldn’t.
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Erik had been there for Blaine when Blaine really needed someone. Every time Blaine fought with his father about his future or his attitude or his annoying insistence that he was, in fact, still gay, Erik was there to help him through it: to calm him down, to listen when he needed to vent, to hug him and pat him on the back and insist that everything would be okay. Blaine could push his thoughts of friendship aside to fantasize about Erik’s boyfriend and the hundreds of ways he could win Kurt’s affection, but he could only ignore the sneaking feeling of disloyalty for so long. Because every time Erik smirked as he told Blaine a funny story, or called Blaine to wish him luck before an exam, or made an extra trip to pick up Blaine’s favorite cereal, Blaine remembered.
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He remembered that Erik was still the best guy he knew. He remembered that Kurt agreed to go out with Erik, no persuasion required. He remembered that best friends do not steal each other’s boyfriends.
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He remembered that Erik loved Kurt just as much as Blaine did. And, most painfully of all, he remembered that Kurt loved Erik, not him.
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~~~
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Weeks after the wedding incident, Kurt and Blaine could be found in the practice room where they spent so much of their time. Libraries were stuffy and coffees shops distracting, so they sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the piano, studying for their upcoming exams.
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Every once and a while, they would take a break to play a song, or improvise something, or sing a duet, relishing in the sound of their voices blending together.� Kurt and Blaine and Erik shared almost everything. But, just as Kurt and Erik had something that Blaine couldn’t understand, so too did Blaine and Kurt have something entirely their own.� Erik couldn’t hold a tune if it came with handles and his attempts to play the piano were ridiculous at best. So, while Erik holed himself up in their room, Blaine studied with Kurt, cherishing every minute they had together.
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Blaine was just finishing a particularly adorable rendition of Teenage Dream and Kurt couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It’s supposed to feel like this, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, trepidation showing in his careful eyes.
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“What?” Blaine plopped down next to Kurt and said, “Music was distracting me, as usual. What’s supposed to feel like what, now?”
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“Erik and I. What we have. It’s supposed to feel like this.” Kurt explained, looking down into his lap, refusing to meet Blaine’s eyes. Kurt took a shaky breath and continued softly, “With you and me, it’s effortless. And imagining spending the rest of my life with you? It’s not scary at all. Because I know that there would be way too much pop music and Broadway and fashion and too many sickeningly cute duets and we would drive people crazy…but it would be so easy. So right. If it weren’t for Erik…if it was just you and me…”
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Blaine sat still, shocked into silence. They hadn’t discussed their conversation on the bench, hadn’t analyzed Kurt’s hesitation any further.� Blaine had secretly hoped that Kurt would realize that, while Erik was wonderful, maybe he was wonderful for someone else.
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But Blaine didn’t push. He didn’t press Kurt to talk about it. He left him alone with his thoughts. But this new revelation, this could not be ignored or left alone.
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Blaine scooted closer to Kurt and gently lifted Kurt’s chin with his hand. He looked into Kurt’s sad and scared eyes and said confidently, “You’re right. Love and relationships and the rest of our lives…it’s supposed to feel exactly like this.”
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And then, just as he had imagined doing for the past two and a half years, Blaine brought his lips to meet Kurt’s, desperately trying to show him, with strokes and tongues and hands and hearts, how it was supposed to feel.