Chapter 2

Blaine was forty minutes into his English class when he began to grow restless. His foot tapped against the tile of the floor, and the incessant noise garnered looks from his fellow classmates in the Columbia lecture hall. As the professor continued to ramble on about the paper they were to write, Blaine looked up and glared at them until they looked away; facing the older woman at the front of the class. He groaned and sunk lower in his seat. Truth be told, Blaine had a hard time sitting still after long periods of time. It was a good thing that his chemistry and calculus classes kept him challenged with things to do. English was a bitch. It was twice a week for two hours each session. The class was as easy as ever—Blaine could write a paper in his sleep. It was just hard for him to stay still and stay focused in this fucking class.

The professor went into detail when one of the freshmen present asked her to elaborate. Blaine rolled his eyes because that would get them more constant chatter for another 10 minutes. He considered starting on his science assignment thatd be due on Thursday—starting two days early would give him more time in the gym. He and Rachel were moving their things to the new place on Saturday and he wouldnt be able to spend as much time as hed like working out. Although Blaine was still pretty beat up from his match on Saturday night against another welterweight named Paul Jones, he couldnt wait to get back into the ring. He was undefeated because he worked hard and put his hours in, but in the time between his last match against Jones and the one before that, Blaine had slacked off quite a bit. Hed been fucking around more with the other guys in his late grandfathers gym—sneaking off to the locker room and messing around instead of focusing on getting ready for the match. Because of it, hed taken some pretty hard hits that Blaine Anderson was known for avoiding or at least countering. His body was still as sore as it was the following morning, and now it was Tuesday afternoon. He didnt know if the healing process had even begun.

Blaine knew that if he played his cards right, hed have a chance at going pro. Rachel often teased him about his wanting to be a doctor who kicked peoples asses for a living, but Blaine couldnt help his interests. She meant well, but still he never scolded her for her weird collection of reindeer sweaters. Boxing was a lot cooler than that, and their grandfather had taught him all that he knew. The sport was special to him because of that man. Besides, he wanted to be a doctor when he was older. There was nothing wrong with chasing different dreams when he was young. Everyone should have long term goals and short term goals, he told himself.

Finally, about an hour into class, Professor Ganesh assigned them to their reading. The rest of the students took their literature out, all except Blaine. Hed completed the reading the night before out of sheer boredom, so now Blaine decided hed take out his cell phone. He scrolled through contacts and wondered who he could bother. His best friend Jeff was at work right now. Jeff worked at this corny karaoke bar in the city and sometimes he did inventory, other times he tended the bar. Blaine knew his phone was turned off because of the teens crazy boss, so he didnt even bother.

Sugars name showed up on his Missed Call log and he sighed. While an annoying brat, Sugar was one of his closest friends. In fact, Jeff and Sugar would probably be the only real friends Blaine made since he and his sister were moved to New York from Pennsylvania. The girl had been behaving differently since she got news of Blaine and Rachel leaving their Midwood Brooklyn neighborhood, and Blaine wasnt in the mood to deal with any high maintenance females. He loved her but he decided against it.

The mention of Rachel made him send her a text. He wanted to make sure that Santana actually gave her the copies of the apartment keys like the Latina was supposed to. She claimed to have forgotten to bring them to their class yesterday and that annoyed Blaine. If a person says theyre going to do something, they should do it.

He looked up and around the lecture hall, listening to conversations. As the teen fixed the collar of his shirt, he glanced over into the next aisle and saw his ex-boyfriend look at him. Blaine smiled at him softly. Fallon was one of the only people who could get a genuine smile out of Blaine, yet the blond only looked away.

That hurt.

If it was some form of punishment, Blaine could understand that. He cheated and he was wrong for his infidelity one hundred percent, but he felt that if Fallon was going to punish him even more than hed already been punished, then he should let that be clear. The wavering back and forth was what bothered Blaine the most. Fallon shouldnt have shown up at the fight Blaine had against Paul Jones on Saturday and left directly after the match was over before they could talk. He shouldnt say they could hang out and then decide last minute that he wanted to change his mind, and he shouldnt be glancing over his shoulder to the back of the classroom if he was going to ignore any attempt at friendliness Blaine would make. It wasnt fair to him. That sounded really ridiculous after all Blaine had put him through but hed said months worth of apologies and tried his hardest to let Fallon know how serious he was. He didnt get why the kid was playing games with him like this.

Annoyed and a little frustrated, Blaine looked back down at his phone. He played a quick game of Piano Tiles, followed by a quick game of Flappy Fall, and then finally decided that the boredom would kill him. If this were any other class, hed be allowed to walk out. It wasnt like thered be a lesson after the reading. But with Professor Ganesh, the moment you exited the classroom youd be marked absent. You had to use the restroom before class or after class. She was that type. No other professor at this university was that type.

As he scrolled through his contacts, Blaines thumb-swipe guided him to Kurts number. He smiled, having definitely forgotten that he had the boy as a contact. Santana had given it to him simply because she was mortified at the thought of giving the new roomies her own number, but Blaine didnt mind. It definitely worked for him.

He knew that he shouldnt. Rachel warned him not to. Kurt warned him not to. Kurt spent a lot of their short time alone reminding Blaine that he was in a happy relationship with a great guy for over a year now. Blaine rolled his eyes as he remembered the conversation. It was probably all bullshit. If his boyfriend was so happy, why would he be moving out in the first place? Still, Blaine remembered how he screwed things up for himself and Fallon. He couldnt give a flying fuck about Kurts relationship, but Kurt was a good guy. He didnt want him to lose what he had if it was such a good thing.

That didnt mean that the status of amicable roommates was off the table. He could text him, right? Rachel never said that he couldnt be friends with Kurt. She only said that Blaine wasnt allowed to pursue anything sexual with him, and he didnt want to go against his sisters wishes.

Blaine chewed on his bottom lip as he typed a message out to the NYU sophomore. He could still see the curves on Kurt Hummel as clear as day. It was going to be beautiful hell living with that man.

To: Kurt [2:01 PM]

Good afternoon, gorgeous. I hope youve missed me as much as I miss you. :P

He hit send and put the phone on his desk, deciding that in the mean time hed start on that science assignment.

His phone buzzed as soon as hed gotten his textbook out, and Blaine smiled to himself as he realized that the boy had replied to him incredibly quickly. Only it wasnt Kurt who replied—it was Fallon starting a conversation. Blaine opened the message and read it carefully.

From: Fallon [2:01 PM]

Im sorry Ive been so weird with you lately but Im trying, Blaine. You probably dont want to hear this but I was so in love with you, and what happened between us I took hard. I care for you still, that much is probably obvious. But I dont know if Im ready to let you back in. If I do that, Ill just collapse and forgive you and I cant handle being broken again.

Blaine read it twice and sighed, running his calloused, tattooed fingers through his curls. He looked up again and his eyes found the back of the boys blond hair before he slouched back in the seat. A third time, his eyes scanned the message and he began to type.

To: Fallon [2:03 PM]

We really need to go somewhere so we can talk about this. I know that I fucked up and you know that Im sorry. I care for you too and Fallon I swear if you just give me another chance we could really work at this.

From: Fallon [2:05 PM]

You care for me but you cant even tell me you love me, Blaine.

Blaine looked at the message. He didnt bother to reply because that much was true.

From: Fallon [2:09 PM]

And I bet you still mess around with other guys. I know you do. The most important thing Ive learned about us is that I cant turn a bad boy good. I tried to during sophomore, junior, and senior year. Its time I wont get back and we need to focus on our futures separately. But you know that I care about you and I still consider you my friend. I want to support your fights and your music and everything you do, and hopefully youll support me as well. Hopefully we can still be close and you can respect that I dont think were going to be anything other than friends.

That hurt more than Blaine thought it would.

Blaine needed to go to the gym and fast. The only way to help the anger he felt building up inside his chest was to hit something. Better something than someone, his grandfather always said. His foot was rapping against the floor as he reread the words on the screen and Blaine groaned, looking away from Fallon who glanced back at him and down at his school work.

Friends.

He didnt think that was going to work out for him. He was an all or nothing type of guy, and if Fallon couldnt put up with him when he was at his worse, he wasnt going to be able to stick around now casually as a friend. He had even less reason to now, other than to remind Blaine of how he screwed up.

Months of apologies, of flowers and of gifts, and writing songs to show how serious he was. Months of getting ignored—of sitting back and watching his ex-boyfriend date other guys no doubt out of spite… Blaine didnt want to deal with it. He sucked in a breath and packed his things away. Hed take being marked absent if it meant he could get the fuck out of here and back to Brooklyn to the boxing gym. He felt Fallons eyes on him as he stormed out of the classroom; wincing at the pain in his body from the fight last Saturday night. Blaine was done with it.

…

"Your phone just vibrated."

Kurt shrugged. "I dont care. Answer the question."

Charles smiled that model smile of his; his jaw chiseled like a Roman god and his strong arms draped over Kurts body. They both lay on Charles sisters couch. This was where the dirty blond lived now—with his sister in Astoria, Queens. Somehow, Charles convinced Kurt to skip classes and come over straight after his shift at Saks Fifth Avenue. That was a big deal. The only time Kurt neglected to go to class is if it wasnt mandatory or if he was sick with the plague. It wasnt too often.

The past few days had been crazy for the couple. On Saturday, even though Kurt told himself and Santana that he wasnt going to allow Charles over for sex, Charles came over under the guise of hanging out with his boyfriend and helping him with homework assignments and without much effort, he and Kurt were going at it about an hour into his visit. It was easy for Charles to get what he wanted, Kurt acknowledged. Itd been that way throughout the duration of their relationship. Itd been that way Charles whole life. He was the only boy of three children. He was the youngest. He looked so gorgeous. He was spoiled rotten.

Kurt didnt know why they worked out so well together. It seemed like they were polar opposites—night and day. Burt, Kurts father, definitely thought so after spending a bit of time with the two. He told his son that he wasnt a fan of Charles temper. Kurt understood that. Not many people were, but he was able to calm his boyfriend down in ways other people werent. Sometimes.

It only worked when Charles wasnt too far gone.

Now though, both of the teenagers were perfectly fine. They found themselves sprawled out on the leather sofa; Charles lying on top of Kurt. They were talking, and Charles would kiss his boyfriend every other minute. He wanted to do something but he had an inkling it was going to be an issue.

"Remind me of the question, sweetheart."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and the action made Charles smile deviously. He loved it when Kurt had an attitude. It made for fantastic angry sex. "I asked you where were going."

"Hm." Charles bit his lip and started to kiss Kurts neck. The blue eyed teen pushed him away and Charles laughed. "Where do you want to go, baby?"

"You said that you were taking me somewhere if I came over and then I get here and were watching stupid 1,000 Ways to Die reruns. I didnt skip my classes to come here and watch 1,000 Ways to Die reruns."

Charles sighed, though he smiled. "We can go out tonight. I want to be alone with you right now."

"I want to go out."

"Kurt."

"Charlie," the teen said. He pushed his boyfriend away again. "And were not having sex. Dont think that because youre mistaken."

Charles sat up on the sofa and looked at the TV. "This is fucking ridiculous. Just… put your shoes on. Well go see a movie."

Kurts eyes squinted a little and then his eyebrows furrowed. "Wow. Great. You have an attitude."

Charles didnt answer.

"Forget it. I dont even want to go out if you dont want to. Just dont fucking lie and get me over here for us to do this bullshit—"

"What bullshit?" Charles raised his voice before realizing it and then shook his head, inching away. Kurt shook his head before sitting up as well. "Im sorry. I dont mean to yell but I dont see how us being together is bullshit."

Kurt was silent as he stared at the television. For him, he could see how this relationship was going to fade away. Maybe Kurt was, as his boyfriend often said, blowing things out of proportion, but he could see the signs. As of late, all they did was stay inside and screw. During their freshmen year, Kurt and Charles would go places. Theyd see things together, and Charles helped Kurt to fall even more in love with New York City than he thought was possible. Now that wasnt the case at all. It was as if theyd lost all the magic they once had and Charles was complacent with just being inside and getting off.

They werent each others dirty secrets though. They were in a freaking relationship for crying out loud. Kurt hated feeling like that wasnt the case.

"Where do you want to go?"

Kurt scratched at his forehead. "Its fine, Charles. I dont mind the reruns. Well hang out on Friday at Tanas gig."

Charles stiffened at that, and it wasnt hard for his boyfriend to notice. "Actually."

Kurt exhaled and shook his head. "Im not even surprised. I dont know what it is but Im not surprised."

"Since you dont know what it is you should relax and let me explain myself, right?"

Shut up, in other words.

Kurt folded his arms over his chest. He found himself wanting to leave, and he didnt want to feel that way but he did.

"I didnt get the part at my audition on Sunday, but the guys liked me a lot so they told my agent about this audition on Friday. If they like me then well start filming that same day and we could be on set until like 3 AM."

"Filming what?"

"Its for a body spray commercial or something."

Kurt nodded. "Youre ditching Santanas first gig for a commercial? Youre moving out and everything is changing so you can become a commercial superstar?"

Charles smirked. "I have to start somewhere, Kurt. If youre not going to support me then I honestly dont give a fuck."

Kurt watched him get up and walk towards the stairs. He shook his head and looked back at the television. "Where are you going, Charlie?"

"Upstairs." Charles stomped off and Kurt turned back to watch the hissy fit.

"Ok…? I guess Im leaving then."

"Ill be right back down." Charles was at the top of the steps when he said it and the words sounded a bit faded, but Kurt heard him. It was hard to believe he was in this situation, though. Things with his boyfriend had been going really well for a long time but now it was like they were hitting a rough patch.

Yeah. Thats all this is. Its a rough patch, Kurt said to himself.

Although he considered leaving and going home for the rest of the evening, Kurt decided against it. Sure it would be nice having the silence to sit and reflect—Santana worked a few nights a week and most Saturday nights at this bar not far from their place and Kurt took the time to get caught up on work or rest. But while it would be nice, it would also be scary. Kurt didnt know what hed think if he had the time to sit there alone with his thoughts, and he was afraid hed convince himself that he wanted out. You shouldnt quit during a rough patch, though. Things could get smooth again and youd never know.

After five minutes, Kurt rolled his eyes and reached for his cell phone. He couldnt believe that Charles just randomly went upstairs for no reason at all without telling him how long hed be up there or most importantly, what he was doing. After all, Kurt did skip class to come here as he reminded the older teen. This was a little more than shitty. It wasnt fair.

There was a message on Kurts phone from a number he didnt recognize. He raised his eyes at the content of the message before unlocking his phone and properly going to the messaging app.

From: 19175550815 [2:01 PM]

Good afternoon, gorgeous. I hope youve missed me as much as I miss you. :P

Kurt automatically thought that it was one of his old friends from high school being a troll. There werent many old friends from high school, but this did seem like something one of the Glee club kids Chandler would do. Or maybe Puck if he had enough to drink and was feeling bi-curious again. Kurt had received tons of drunk texts from him that were extremely steamy and extremely gay, and Kurt couldnt blame him because—well, look at me Kurt thought—and it was the perfect blackmail material for future visits home. But this text in particular had been sent at 2 oclock in the afternoon. There was no way that Noah was that drunk already.

Kurt considered calling the number before he realized that it couldve been a complete stranger with the wrong number. In order to help them avoid an awkward conversation, the blue eyed teen thought it best to send a friendly text back.

To: 19175550815 [4:19 PM]

Hey. I dont have your contact saved so I thought that you may have the wrong number. Who are you trying to reach?

Kurt sent the message and then looked up at the TV. The 1,000 Ways to Die marathon appeared to be ending at least. Now, another show that Kurt had no interest in was due up. The theme song began, and having enough, Kurt grabbed the remote, finding an old episode of Americas Next Top Model that hed seen probably 30 times. He didnt care though. Hed watch it 30 more times before hed watch Spike TV.

Charles slowly walked down the carpeted steps. The floorboards creaked beneath his muscular weight as Kurts phone vibrated against his thigh.

From: 19175550815 [4:21 PM]

You dont have my number saved. Well, before now…at least if you want to save it. Anyway to answer your question so you know Im texting the person I intended to, Im looking for Kurt. Im going to hit you back after my session though. Maybe Ill call you.

TTYL gorgeous.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow as he read the message. Who the hell was this? A session? What type of session was this? They obviously knew him well enough to call him gorgeous but he couldnt think of who it could be.

"Everything ok?"

Kurt glanced up after the strong voice shook him from his reverie, and then nodded, returning his cell phone to his pocket after he shot back a text asking who the person was. He returned his focus to the TV, not asking his boyfriend what he was up to disappearing like that. "Im fine."

Charles sat next to Kurt on the couch. "Im sorry for making you come over here but I wanted to hang out. Alone."

Kurt rubbed across his face and took a deep breath, planning his next words carefully. One wrong word could turn this disagreement into a full on argument, and Kurt wasnt the type to back down. Not when he wasnt wrong. "Im sorry about belittling the roles your agent gets you. I know its competitive out there and I understand that you have to take what you can get right now." He turned and looked at Charles whose brown eyes were focused on him. "Im proud of you, Charlie. Really, I am. My concern is that… youll get so caught up in chasing your dream that youll forget about me and our friends too. Weve been here for you."

"I couldnt forget about you if I wanted to, baby. Youre my world and you know that."

"I guess I dont want things to change."

Charles nodded, though he spoke his opinion on the matter. "Things change sometimes. Things change a lot. Thats why Im trying to keep you close to me."

Kurt looked back at the screen. "If change consists of us only ever hanging out to mess around then its a change Im not interested in. I think were more than that, dont you?"

The blond nodded to his boyfriend as Kurts blue eyes scanned him for sincerity. Charles realized he mustve seemed like an asshole but that didnt change the fact that he wanted to get off right now. Was it his fault Kurt came over in jeans so tight and the pale, inviting skin of his neck on display by way of a low cut, baby blue top? Kurt knew after all this time together that the skin there was Charles favorite place to kiss. All in all, he could get where Kurt was coming from with this. If he intended on getting lucky, the least he could do was switch it up a little—no matter how boring things were getting between them socially. "Let me take you out to a movie or something. Then on Saturday after Im all rested up, we can see a show. Anything you want."

Kurt smiled at him now. "You mean it? You wont cancel on me?"

"I wont," Charles told him. He moved closer and wrapped a well-defined arm around his boyfriends lean body. "I just want to make you happy. So lets get out of here."

Kurt let out a sigh, but it was definitely one of relief. This was what he wanted—the least of what he wanted. They needed to meet half way an d then hed have no problem supporting Charles through his spur of the moment dreams. "All right."

…

Blaine hit the punching bag with combo after combo. He felt overexerted but didnt stop. Doing this helped him to forget everything about his situation. As he pounded the bag, he forgot about how much he couldnt stand his parents and how much he sometimes hated himself and about how much it hurt feeling so alone. His hair was heavy with sweat; his entire body dripping wet. The shorts he wore hung low on his waist and as he thundered another combo into the bag—the trainers apprentice standing behind it to shield the blows—Blaine didnt miss the way one of the guys hed often mess around with in the locker room had been watching him.

He couldnt remember his name right now. The guy dropped his jump rope and smiled as he dropped down to begin push-ups. Blaine stopped staring when the man assisting him cleared his throat.

"Thats not what youre here for champ," Elliot told him. "Pay attention."

Blaine took a few breaths and looked down at the tape wrapped around his hands. He rolled his shoulders and went back into his fighting stance, staring at the punching bag. Two jabs and a cross, a shift to the left followed by a hook, and then two more jabs. Elliot smiled as held the bag tightly, trying not to fall over from the impact of Blaines blows. "Thats what Mark Anderson trained you to do, Blaine."

The teen thought about his grandfather as he felt sweat moving down his chest. In the center of the ring, a couple kids were sparring. Blaines body yearned for a break and he was stupid enough to ignore the request as he hammered another combo into the punching bag. Elliot yelled out commands, and ten minutes later, they called it a wrap.

"You did better towards the end there. Got a lot on your mind?"

Blaine shook his head no, obviously lying. The apprentice knew better than that. Elliot was one of the best fighters to ever come out of this gym and hed be going up in a title fight soon. Blaine undid the tape covering his hands and flexed his red fingers as the guy whod been doing push-ups came over with a bottle of water. Elliot watched the both of them and shook his head. The last thing that Blaine needed was anymore distractions after making as many mistakes as he had at the last fight, but he was no Mark Anderson. Blaines grandfather was the only one that could really get anything through the boys thick skull.

The other fighter poured some water into Blaines mouth and smiled at the teen as he closed the cap. "What do you have against the poor punching bag, Blaine?"

Blaine pulled the tape from his second hand and shook his head. "It was a really long day. Im going to get out of here and head home."

"I was thinking Id do the same," he told him. Blaine eyed him. This was what Fallon talked about. He didnt even know this guys name but the kid had previously wrapped his lips around Blaines dick and obviously wanted more. How could Fallon trust him when he wasnt even trying to change? As much as the fighter hated to admit it, Fallon was right.

Blaine knew he could change, though. He just didnt want to do it for Fallon. It wasnt like hed give him another chance, anyway. "We should spar together sometime…"

"Omar," he spoke quickly. "And Id be honored to spar with you, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, walking off to the back. Elliot shook his head.

"You should get back to jumping rope, Omar. Maybe work on that stamina?"

Blaine entered the locker room, thankful for the guy not following him. He wasnt exactly in the mood. Blaine didnt want to do anything but go straight home. His home—well his grandmothers home—was only a block away. There was still packing that needed to be done too, so he didnt bother getting in the gym shower. Instead Blaine went straight to his locker and threw on his hoodie; bare chested underneath. He grabbed his duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder, reached underneath his towel for his phone, and then realized that there was a response from Kurt.

From: Kurt [4:21 PM]

Um. Ok… can you at least tell me who this is?

Blaine smiled, leaning his forehead against his locker as he tapped at his screen.

To: Kurt [6:02 PM]

Well its the man of your dreams, of course. Ill give you two chances at a guess in case you get a little over ambitious on the first attempt.

A few minutes later, a reply.

From: Kurt [6:05 PM]

Since Im sitting in the same room as my boyfriend and I know his phone number, Im guessing it isnt him. Choice 1- Noah Puckerman on some sort of powerful drug. Youre not drunk because youre spelling correctly. But then again, sober Noah spells incorrectly so maybe being inebriated does the reverse and lessens your flaws?

To: Kurt [6:06 PM]

Try again. I dont even know who that is.

From: Kurt [6:07 PM]

Well. Lets see. The man of my dreams… Chris Evans? Howd you get my number? Im a huge, huge fan. In more ways than one, if you know what I mean. ;)

Blaine laughed. He laughed for the first time in what seemed like days. After the day he had, he didnt think he had a laugh in him.

To: Kurt [6:09 PM]

I know what you mean, but you should let me see. Get Charles out of the room and send me a Snapchat. Let me see how /huge/ a fan you really are.

Blaine smirked to himself, putting his hood over his head and walking towards the exit. He ignored everyone as he went, only stopping to say goodbye to his grandfathers good friend who was at the buildings entrance as he tried to leave. Mr. Motta patted him on the shoulder goodbye and told him to take it easy. He was the gyms head trainer now. Blaine nodded at the sentiment, but he wasnt sure he knew how to take it easy.

From: Kurt [6:11 PM]

So Chris Evans, you know my boyfriends name? Thats kinda weird. Anyway, were about to see a movie—hes on the concession line right now and Im in no position to send you any dirty pics. Sorry. Youd enjoy them.

Im curious as to what your Snapchat screen name is though, Chris.

To: Kurt [6:12PM]

Its BlaineTheChamp.

From: Kurt [6:12 PM]

Lol wow. How did I forget you existed? How did you get my number? Why are you texting me? My boyfriend wouldnt approve of this and we have enough going on right now so Im going to have to end this conversation, Blaine.

Blaine rolled his eyes after reading the message. It was cold outside, and suddenly he realized just how absentminded he could be when thoughts of flu like symptoms sneaking up on him because he was outside in an unzipped hoodie, sweaty chest underneath, wearing his signature boxing shorts and laced up boots in the middle of a fast-approaching winter evening. He shivered and jogged the rest of the way to home, waving at Rachel who was on the porch talking to a friend and rushing inside.

Upstairs in his room, he tossed his duffel bag onto the floor and pulled off his hoodie. The full length mirror across the room returned the image of a sweaty Blaine Anderson—damp curls, tatted chest and arms, muscles everywhere. He read the message again as he walked around the bedroom, replying while getting ready for a shower.

To: Kurt [6:16 PM]

I am pretty easy to forget. Today has taught me that. My whole life has taught me that but today it was reinforced. You do remember writing an ad for an apartment that you were looking for roommates for and putting your name and number there, right? Because after you refused to give me your number, I was going to go there and get it. Only I didnt need to because Santana gave me it to contact you if I needed anything. Shes going to be a great friend even if she doesnt yet know it. Im texting you because I wanted to talk, I guess. Were going to be living together really soon and its a good idea to get to know one another, dont you think? Charles lost a say in the matter when he moved out, so Im not interested in whether or not hes going to approve of this. You should be allowed to /amicably/ text whoever you want.

To: Kurt [6:18 PM]

Anyway, I do realize and acknowledge that youre on a date with Charles and I wont interrupt again. I just got in from the gym and the shower is calling me. Can you text me back when youre free? Maybe we can hang out for a little while.

After sending the message, Blaine stripped out of his clothes and grabbed his things, going to the bathroom. He turned the music up loud and let his muscles relax underneath the hot water.

…

"You beg me to take you out and then you end up staring at messages?" Charles walked slightly ahead of Kurt as they walked to their theater, but he glanced back and shook his head whenever he saw his boyfriend so invested in his phone. "Whore you talking to?"

Kurt quickly perked up and stopped reading the message halfway through it. In one hand, he had his large diet coke, and in the other was his cell phone—the bright screen was open to Blaines message thread. Lying would be the best option in this scenario, but Kurt didnt want to do that. He never did. "First, I didnt beg you to bring me out. Dont make it sound like Im such a burden. Second, I had a few questions for one of my new roommates and they were helping me get things situated."

Charles hummed. "One of them, huh? Whats her name?"

They walked into the theater as Kurt tried to quickly read the rest of what was written from Blaine. "Actually, Rachel Anderberry… you remember her right? You two shared a couple classes. She and her brother are the ones Santana and I decided on since were familiar with her and the two of them needed somewhere urgently." The pair got to their seats in the middle of the theater. Charles listened closely. "They have no problem paying for their stay and thats whats most important."

"I feel bad for you two. That girl was hard to share a classroom with. Such a kiss ass, know it all. I cant imagine living with her."

Kurt was grateful that his boyfriend didnt dwell on the brother aspect of it all. "She isnt so bad. I dont think shes a fan of you either but Im going to need you to get along with the people I live with."

Charles smiled. "All I know is if you get to text on our date after that whole fight we had earlier, then this is in vain. Theres no point in us going out together if we couldve stayed home and you couldve ignored me there."

"Im not ignoring you," the boy huffed. "I told you. A couple questions, thats all."

Charles wrapped his arm around Kurts seat. "Uh huh. I love you babe. Now no more phones."

…

To: Kurt [10:39 PM]

I cant wait for you to text me back. Im fucking bored. My day was shit, though. It really sucked. I just finished doing my assignments and now Im stuck here, staring up at the ceiling. Theres nothing on TV. Rachels fast asleep. My grandmother would probably think Im stealing something from her if I went downstairs to hang with her. Crazy old bat. I wish I could hang with you though Kurt.

To: Kurt [10:42 PM]

What movie did you two see anyway?

To: Kurt [10:48 PM]

Remember that ex-boyfriend I told you I cheated on? He officially gave me the I only want to be friends text today while we were in English class. I wouldve done anything to get another chance to prove myself and I know I wouldve been good at it but he wrote me off. You know, this whole boyfriend shit. I sucked at it in high school and I mean, what person doesnt suck at it in high school? Who has their shit together in high school? I was an idiot. Im still a little crazy but Im more mature now and I have a better head on my shoulders. I wish hed let me prove that but just like everyone else thinks, Im not worth it. Excuse my pity party, I do this every once in a while. Never thought Id unload it on you though. Woops.

To: Kurt [10:50 PM]

I shouldnt have texted you all of that. My bad, gorgeous. I promise that when I move into the room across from yours, I will not be a little bitch and I will not cry about all of my problems while I spoon at a tub of Ben & Jerrys. Well do manly shit like "watch the game" and talk about all the ass we get. I promise.

To: Kurt [10:59 PM]

Spamming your inbox is kind of fun. Are you still with Charles? I mean in the room with him, not in a relationship, lol. Is he better looking than me?

To: Kurt [11:02 PM]

I doubt that. I mean Rachel did mention him being a model at some point but I know for a fact most of those guys get a shit load of makeup slathered on their barely impressive faces and then get touched up on Photoshop. Im sexy without all of that bullshit. And I get hit in the face for a living.

To: Kurt [11:07 PM]

*Video Attached.*

Kurt was in bed as he read all of the messages. He smiled sadly at some and laughed at others. Blaine wasnt so bad, he didnt think. His pity parties were a bit depressing. Hopefully he could work through those problems, especially the ones with his family. You only live once. His fascination with Charles was a bit worrisome but other than that, he seemed like hed be pretty decent company. Before replying to any of the messages, Kurt clicked on the video. As it loaded, he thought about the mediocre night out with Charles and hoped that their date on Saturday to a show would be better. The new roommates would be settled in and then maybe things could get back to normal. Maybe their lack of chemistry lately had to do with how hectic each of their lives were at the moment—

Holy Fuck.

"Gorgeous," Blaine spoke as Kurt watched him on the screen of his iPhone. He was shirtless. Completely shirtless. There was a tattoo of words in what looked like Italian going around his collarbone. Blaine lay in his bed with a royal blue beanie covering his dark curls. The camera only captured from the boxers V lines of his hips where it looked like a dark pair of Ralph Lauren underwear met the trail of hair running from his navel lower, up to the pillows Blaine rested his head on. He was cut. Muscles were everywhere. His biceps had tattoos as well; and his hazel eyes garnered Kurts focus as he spoke. That was an achievement because this boy was fucking hot and it was easy to look any and everywhere else, but those golden eyes were captivating. "I shouldve put a disclaimer for you not to open this if you were with him." The way he said the word as if it tasted bad made Kurt roll his eyes. Suddenly all the good he associated with having Blaine move in started to go out the window.

Blaine licked his lips slowly before talking again, and that was what did it. Kurt felt his cock go hard. He saw the two studs—two black and white piercings in Blaines tongue, close to one another in a horizontal line near the center a centimeter up. "Fuck," Kurt said. "Just… fuck."

Blaine was talking. Kurt missed some of what he said, and that was a good, valid reason for him to have to watch this again when it was over. Yup. "…so Im thinking that Id sing you a song. My friend works at this Karaoke Bar that has Open Mic too. I was wondering if, after myself and my sister are settled in on Saturday, we could all go. I have a fake ID so drinks are on me," he said with a smile. A smile that made Kurt say fuck again. Was Blaine this hot during their interview to move him and Rachel in? Didnt he say he was a boxer? Shouldnt he look a little deranged? A little beat up? "I totally respect that you love him and what not but hes not invited. I want to get to know you amicably and hed just try to stop that. Im sure hes the jealous type. Anybody that has a man that looks like you should be the jealous type." Blaine laughed a little; eyes darkening. "Just thinking about the things Id do to you if you were mine… anyway. Moving on…"

Kurt bit his lip and rolled over on the bed, eyes glued to Blaines body. He stared at his lips as they moved.

If Charles ever saw this…

"I guess youre either ignoring me or youre seriously with your boy so, Im going to find something to do with myself. Call of Duty or something." He looked around what Kurt assumed was his bedroom but held the camera steady; focused on himself. After the quick surveillance, he smiled for the video. "Goodnight, friend. Well chat soon I hope."

The video ended and Kurt stared at the screen of his iPhone. Outside of his room, Santana could be heard on the phone with a friend. He closed his eyes, knowing better than to go to her for advice. This wasnt strictly friendly, even though it appeared Blaine wanted to pose it that way. Blaine was a player, a strategist. He was up to something.

Or was Kurt just paranoid?

No. No way.

He stared down at his phone and shook his head when his mind and dick petitioned for him to play the video once more. Or twice. Twice more wouldnt hurt.

Im screwed.