Chapter Six: Too Deep

                In truth, Kurt hadn't gotten over his fear of the water.  It was still there with him every time he got in the pool.  He'd just learned how to better control his responses to the overwhelming waves of emotion.  Breathing helped.  Consciously focusing on inhaling and exhaling helped lessen the jitters.  When he was underwater, he found that focusing his thoughts on Blaine – picturing their inevitable first date, or their first apartment in New York, or eating gelato in Italy together – soothed him like nothing else.  Not that he planned on sharing this discovery any time soon.

                Now that he was proficient enough at swimming that imminent drowning was no longer a real threat, he'd started coming, or staying, for part of the open swim.  He still had official lessons with Blaine two or three times a week, usually early in the morning.  During open swim, however, Jeff was able to help him practice.  Beyond helping Kurt progress faster, it was also helping to build his confidence. 

                It was his dad who'd raised that concern to begin with.  “Look, I know you and Blaine like each other and you're good friends.  But Kurt, he isn't going to be at your proficiency test.  At least not in the water with you.  I just want you to remember that. You have to know you can do this on your own.”

                Jeff had approached Kurt after his last lesson and told him about Thursday.

                “It's perfect.  We're offering the Lifeguard Certification Test, so the pool is closed to the public.  We run the swimming part of the test between 1:30 to 3:30.  But then, they all go inside a classroom and have the written test.  So the pool's ours after 3:30. We could grab dinner after too.”

                “That sounds great.  I'll see you about 3:30,” remarked Kurt.

                He'd been extra careful applying sunblock before leaving the tire shop, since it was so late in the day.  Dropping his towel and bag in a chair under the umbrella, as usual, Kurt sauntered down the far side of the pool towards the deep end where Blaine was standing, timing Jeff and Austin who were treading water.

                As Kurt came to stand next to Blaine, the lifeguard snagged his hat off his head and placed it on his own head.  “Thanks, handsome.  It's really hot today – and not just because you walked up.  You're not going to need this today.  I want you in lane two.  Backstroke.  Up and back.”

                Kurt moved to walk behind Blaine, then leaned close to Blaine's ear so he wouldn't be overheard.  “So bossy today, Anderson.  I love a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask,” he purred low.

                “Hummel,” growled out Blaine trying his best not to react to Kurt's words or tone.

                As he passed, Kurt dragged his hand low on Blaine's back, one finger slipping under the waistband of his swim shorts.  Putting a bit more swing in his hips, he ambled over to the second swimming lane, the floating lane lines still in from the earlier testing.  It was then, as Kurt sat with his feet in the water that he recognized he would be about eight feet from the side wall.

                He looked up and saw that Blaine was already moving towards him.  “Slide in, Kurt,” he said quietly.  Looking over to where Jeff and Austin were, he called louder, “I'm still timing.  Don't cheat!”

                Kurt slid into the cool water.  Rotating, he held onto the gutter with one arm.  “Blaine?”

                “Look at me,” Blaine requested.  “Yes, you are further away than usual.”  Slowly Blaine sat down and brought his feet to rest on the gutter outside of where Kurt's hands held fast.  “But you are too quick to grab on to the wall when you don't really need to.  And, remember, if it gets to be too much, the lane lines will support your weight, so you can grab them.  I'll be walking along the side of the pool the whole time.  You remember what I told you about the flags?”

                Kurt nodded.  “Count my strokes.  The flags divide the pool in thirds.  Can I rest at the shallow end?”

                “For one minute.”

                Kurt closed his eyes to focus on what he needed to do and to slow his breathing down.  He felt Blaine nudge his hand with a toe, so he peeked up at him.

                Blaine was leaning down so their faces were almost touching, the brim of Kurt's hat shading them both.  “One day soon, Hummel, we're no longer going to have this whole teacher-student thing between us.  I want you to think about this: I am counting the days until you pass that damn test.  Because once you do, you'll know exactly what I want from you and how unafraid I am of begging you for it.”  Blaine's eyes were impossibly dark, his voice deep with lust.

                “Fuck me,” whispered Kurt, desperately trying to clear his mind of the erotic images that had happily cartwheeled into it at Blaine's seductive words.

                Blaine reached out to cup Kurt's jaw.  This time his response was much more unsure, but equally as heartfelt.  “Maybe, one day.  We'll…you know.  Get to that stage.  Where we want to share that with each other.”  Blaine dropped his eyes and stared into the water.  “I think about us.  Together.  Like that.  Sometimes.”  His head snapped back up.  “But I'm in no rush.  I don't want you to feel pressured, or anything.”

                Glancing around to make sure no one but the Sterling brothers were around, Kurt pushed up and placed a quick kiss on Blaine's cheek.  “I know.”

                “Let's get down to business, then,” responded Blaine moving to stand back up.

                Kurt shook his head in amusement.  “To defeat the Huns?”

                “Did you send me daughters when I asked for sons?” completed Blaine.

                Kurt pushed off the wall, allowing the water to buoy him.  He began to flutter kick and then added the appropriate arm movements.  But, instead of counting his strokes, he sang that silly song from Mulan about becoming a man.

                In a way, by facing his fears, that was exactly what he was doing here.  It seemed only appropriate that by the time he'd finished the song, not only had he swum down the pool length but he'd turned around and immediately swum back.  All without a rest break. 

                Be a man, indeed.

                Austin had won the contest with his brother – although, to be fair, he had some unsolicited assistance from Jordan, who had come out on the pool deck in her street clothes which included a pair of navy shorts and dark red halter top.  Jeff had sunk beneath the water at the sight.  By the time he came up, she was sitting next to Blaine and Kurt, hanging her legs into the water.

                “Austin?  Becca needs you in the testing room,” she called. 

                Austin pulled himself out of the pool, dripping water down the pool deck as he went.

                Taking in her change of clothes, Jeff swam closer but not close enough to splash Jordan's clothes.   “Leaving early?”

                Jordan nodded without looking at Jeff.

                “Is everything okay?” asked Blaine with concern.  He wasn't an expert on other people's emotions, but it seemed to him that Jordan was kinda down.

                She glanced over towards him.  “Yeah.  Sorta,” she said quietly.  “It will be, eventually.  I guess.”

                The knot forming in Jeff's stomach grew at her words and demeanor.  He had been exchanging flirty text messages with Jordan since the night everyone had gotten together to watch Finding Nemo, but his plans on taking her on an actual D.A.T.E. on a weekend, had been usurped by family obligations – both his and hers.

                A male voiced called out across the pool, “Jordan!”  A young man, probably in his early 20s, stood just inside the pool deck from the bleachers.  He was dressed smart-casual: pressed khakis, fitted hunter green polo shirt.  His black hair was cut very short – like the military might require, and it was clear from the fit of his clothes that he spent a significant amount of time working out.

                Jordan's face lit up at the sight.  “Shawn!”  She had begun to swing her legs out of the pool when Jeff's voice stopped her.

                “Who's Shawn?”  Even if he had wanted to, there was no way Jeff could have stopped the jealousy he felt from spilling out into his voice.

                Hesitating for the briefest of moments, Jordan narrowed her eyes and answered clearly.  “A friend.  A really good friend.”  She stood up, scooped up her sandals, and met Shawn half way around the pool.  He picked up the petite brunette in a giant hug and kissed her on her cheek.

                Jeff and Blaine began a rapid-fire conversation while Kurt tried to keep up.

                “Who's-”

                “No idea.”

                “But I thought-“”

                “Yeah, so did I.”

                “But-”

                “We haven't been on a date yet.”

                “Because-”

                “We went home to Westerville; she had to visit her aunt in Chicago.”

                “What about Nick's?”

                “I was gonna – haven't had time.”

                “Well, you better make time before Shawn walks away with your girl.”

                Jeff looked almost panicked at the thought of losing his chance with Jordan before it had really begun. 

                “Look, she's coming back this way to grab her things.  Go talk to her.  Tell her how you feel, nimrod,” advised Blaine.

                Jordan walked by them quickly, moving towards the umbrella table where her duffel bag was still sitting.  Jeff decided this was it, since good-friend Shawn was walking back towards the gate at the bleachers.  He pushed out of the pool and followed Jordan, water sluicing down around him as he went.

                “Jordan?”

                “Not now, Jeff,” she answered without stopping.

                “Please, Jordan.  Just…just two minutes.  Give me two minutes before you leave with – Shawn.”  Jeff had had to swallow before he could say the other guy's name.  He finally caught up with Jordan at the umbrella table, swiftly grabbing up the strap to her duffel bag and placing it on her shoulder.  “Two minutes,” he whispered.

                “Talk.”  She still wouldn't look him in the eye.

                “Did I do something wrong?” he asked in confusion.

                “That's not you talking,” she replied defensively.

                Jeff reached out and tucked her hair behind her right ear.  “Jordan.  I'm not the one about to walk out of here with my ‘really good friend' leaving the guy who has had an enormous crush on you for three years with his heart ripped to shreds.  I thought, you know, that you liked me too.”  Ducking down, he tried to meet her eyes.

                Jordan looked at him in frustration.  “Liking you, Jeffrey, has never been the problem.  I've been in love with you for three years, wondering if you would ever notice.  And then, this year, I finally decided that I was done waiting for you to make a move.  That I would make it clear to you that I was interested in being more than just a friend.”

                Jeff found Jordan's hand and intertwined their fingers.  “I do want that.”

                “Then why-” Jordan stopped herself.

                Jeff swung their hands.  “What?  Talk to me.”

                Sighing, Jordan asked in rush, “Then why is it that Nick seems to think I'm going with you to some Warbler party when you clearly have no desire to actually ask me?”

                Running a hand through his already messy hair, Jeff wanted nothing more than to hold Jordan tight.  Problem was, he still had chlorinated water dripping off of him.  “Is that what you thought?” he asked quietly.  “I always intended on asking you, J.  It's just…I didn't want to ask you over the phone. Or in a text.  I planned to ask you tomorrow, during our lunch run – the one I was going to sweet talk you in to going on with me.  I bought a stuffed dog and flowers and…I had every desire to ask you, Jordan.  I just…wanted to do this right.  You deserve that, for putting up with me.”

                Jordan had begun to tear up at Jeff's openness.  “Jeff…I'm sorry for doubting you.  Us.  For ruining your plans.”

                “They're not ruined.  Not if you'll agree to do the lunch run with me tomorrow,” he asked hopefully while bouncing on his feet.

                His enthusiasm finally brought out a smile on her face.  “I'd like nothing more than to get lunch with you tomorrow,” she offered.

                “Good.  I guess my two minutes are up.  I should let you go…”  Jeff paused for a moment before adding, “I really want to hug you – but I don't want to get you wet before your…date.”

                Jordan closed the distance between them making sure they were just shy of touching.  “I've waited three years for you, Sterling.  So, why don't you man up, and give me a kiss goodbye.  Stake your territory.  I know you want to.  And I won't mind,” she teased gently.

                Jeff slowly closed the distance, brushing his lips against hers.  In imagining their first kiss, Jeff certainly hadn't pictured it in such a public place, but he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity.  The sound of Jordan's duffel bag reached his ears before he felt her arms wrap around his neck.  He chased after her lips when she broke their kiss long enough to whisper in his ear, “I'll dry,” before continuing.

                Sometime later, the sound of a throat being cleared pulled the couple's attention.  Shawn was standing nearby, clearly amused.  He confidently held out his hand to a blushing Jeff.  “I'm Shawn Kirkpatrick.”

                Jeff wrapped his left arm around Jordan's shoulders while shaking the other man's hand.  “Jeff Sterling.”

                Jordan reached up to place a kiss on Jeff's cheek before stepping away.  “Shawn was my brother's best friend.  They enlisted in the Marines together.  He's here visiting our family for the weekend.”

                Shawn looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Wait.  Jeff…as in “Jeff” Jeff?  The one-”

                Jordan sighed while interrupting what could be an exceptionally embarrassing moment.  “Yes.  As in that Jeff.  And before you ask, yes, we're dating.  And yes, he treats me with respect and dignity.  And he understands that failure to do so would have the immediate effect of an entire platoon of Marines creeping into Dalton Academy all Ninja-style to take him out.”

                Jeff met the other man's gaze and mouthed “Ninja”?  Shawn gave a small shrug, as if he didn't quite understand Jordan's statement either.  Jeff offered, “Look, truthfully, if I ever even entertained the thought of being less than a gentleman towards Jordan, my 88 year old grandmother would take me out.  No ninja invasion needed.  She'd even send you evidence of the kill, I'm sure.” 

                Shawn chuckled.  “I like you, Jeff Sterling.  Jordan's parents are having a BBQ on Saturday.  If she hasn't invited you, and god knows why she wouldn't have done that, given the amount of time she has spent going on and on and on and on about you, then please come as my guest.  I'd love to get to talk to you some more.”

                Jordan looked up excitedly.  “Do you think you could make it?  Or are you going home to Westerville this weekend?

                Jeff shook his head.  “Nope.  We were going to stay here and help Nana with some work around the house.  I'm sure I can squeeze a BBQ into my schedule.”  Looking at Shawn, he added, “Thank you.”

                “Anytime.  We should get going, Jordan.”

                As Jordan went to follow Shawn, Jeff tugged gently on her hand, bringing her back to him one last time. He bent to kiss her softly on the lips, then placed a kiss next to her ear.  “I can't believe we waited this long to do that,” he whispered.

                “Figure us out? Or kiss?” she whispered back breathlessly.

                Jeff smirked.  “Yeah.  Exactly.”

                Walking out in time to catch Jordan and Jeff's kiss goodbye, Nick muttered, “It's about time you two got your stuff together.”  Spotting Blaine at the far end of the pool, he strode in that direction.  Moments later, Jeff slung an arm around his shoulders. 

                “Dude, I'm in love,” Jeff sighed.

                Nick shoved him away.  “Reality check, sweetheart.  You've been in love.  For years.  Tell me something.  Did you actually pull your head out of your ass long enough to make things official, or did she have to be the brave one?”  Nick stopped walking, clearly waiting for an answer.

                Jeff grinned at his best friend.  “Does it really matter how it happened?  Can't you just be happy for me?”  He brushed past Nick and walked up to Blaine.  “Where's Kurt?” Jeff asked.

                Nick walked up behind Jeff, shoving him into the pool.  “Yeah, B.  Where is Kurt?  You not man enough to meet his needs?”  Nick failed to see Kurt come up from under the water as he uttered those words.

                “Oh, he's man enough, Duvall,” snarked Kurt who looked different wearing swim goggles.

                Jeff burst out laughing from the water where he found himself treading once again.

                “One more time, Hummel,” called Blaine.  He watched Kurt take three deep breaths before dropping below the water, using the ladder to propel himself down towards the bottom.  Glancing at Nick and then Jeff, he explained, “Kurt still panics a little when he realizes he can't touch the bottom.  So we're trying to acclimatize him to the deep end.  As long as he can hold the ladder, he's okay.”

                “But he can swim across the deep end with the kickboard…” Jeff stated with confusion.

                Blaine nodded.  “I think it's because he has the kickboard.  It helps ground him and keeps the panic at bay.    But to pass the proficiency test, he's going to have to tread water for 5 minutes.  Which means-”

                Kurt burst up out of the water and inhaled deeply.  He caught the last part of Blaine's statement and interrupted, “Which means I need to be comfortable in the deep end, without holding on to anything.”  He pulled off his goggles and tossed them to Blaine who snatched them out of the air.  “Baby steps.”

                “Kurt?” asked Blaine in a tone that Kurt had come to recognize as his ‘I'm gonna ask you to do something, and I know you're not gonna like it – but I know you're gonna do it, because I'm the one asking you' voice.

                Kurt sighed.  “Yes, Blaine?”

                “I want to try something new.”

                “With an audience?” blurted Jeff.

                Nick and Blaine yelled “Sterling” as Kurt swatted at the water, causing a large splash of water to land in Jeff's face.  He spluttered out the water and had the decency to look chagrined. 

                “I want you to swim across the deep end.  Six times.  Nick and Jeff will swim with you on either side.  No kickboard.  No noodle.  Using the crawl stroke.  You can rest between.  Would you be willing to try that? For me?”  Blaine shot Kurt his best pouting puppy dog face.

                “You're killing me, Anderson!” Kurt growled out.

                Seeing that Kurt was willing to give it a go, Nick slid into the pool next to Kurt and Jeff moved to his other side.  Blaine went to sit on the edge of the diving board, where he'd have a better view.

                Kurt managed to make it across three times with no problem.  On his fourth attempt, however, he inhaled water while taking a breath, and started coughing violently in the middle of the pool before sinking beneath the water.

                Realizing Kurt was in trouble, Nick managed to snag him under the arm, pull him up and flip him onto his back, and held him while he cleared the water from his lungs.  “You're doing great, Kurt.  Just keep coughing.  We charge 25 cents per mouthful of water swallowed, FYI,” he teased. 

                When his coughing finally subsided, Kurt thanked Nick and quickly kicked to the side.  Blaine met him at the ladder with a towel.  “You really did do great.  I'm proud of you,” he offered quietly.  Blaine took the time to wrap the towel around Kurt's shoulders, letting his hands trail down Kurt's arms.  He grasped Kurt's hands softly.

                Kurt coughed one more time into his elbow before looking at Blaine.  He reached out to take his hat back from Blaine, smiling briefly.  “I'm proud of me, too.  But I'm done swimming for the afternoon, Blaine.  No more.”  Blaine continued staring at him.  “What?” he asked, a little defensively.

                Blaine seemed to shake himself awake.  “What?  Oh, nothing.  That's fine, Kurt.  Will you stay, though?” he asked hesitantly.

                Kurt tugged Blaine closer, aware that Nick and Jeff were probably listening to every word they said.  “I'll stay only if you tell me what you were thinking just now,” he asked quietly.  He raised one eye brow, daring Blaine to share his secret.

                Blaine blushed.  “You.  It's always you.”

                “What about me, Anderson?”

                “How much you take my breath away, Kurt.  You walked in here with your dad not quite six weeks ago absolutely petrified of the water.  And now – now you just swam across the deep end four times.  Four times, Kurt.  You are so brave and I am so proud of you,” Blaine answered in a whisper.

                Kurt smiled and swung their clasped hands gently.  “Thank you.  But that doesn't quite answer why, when I asked you what you were thinking about, you blushed.  What were you really thinking about?”

                “Kissing you,” he answered simply.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                Kurt watched Blaine, Nick and Jeff take turns launching themselves off the spring board into the pool.  He'd opted to stay sitting near the ladder instead of dragging a plastic chair over.  After about twenty minutes, he decided that he was willing to take another risk.  When Blaine swam over after his last dive, Kurt hurried to ask, “Can I try?”

                Blaine shook his head in confusion.  “What?” he asked dumbly.

                Kurt took a breath.  “I want to jump off the diving board.  Can I?”

                “You're full of surprises, today, aren't you?” 

                Kurt glanced down into the water.  “I suppose.”

                Blaine climbed up out of the pool and offered Kurt a hand up.  “Well, I am never opposed to a good surprise.  Just for future reference,” Blaine hinted.

                “Noted,” answered Kurt.

                Blaine kept ahold of Kurt's hand and walked over to the diving board with Kurt.  When he explained what Kurt wanted to do, Nick and Jeff quickly agreed to help.  Blaine explained that he would be in the water, in front of the diving board, and would show Kurt exactly where to jump.  Jeff would help Kurt on the diving board.  Nick would supervise from the side of the pool – just in case.

                Blaine left Kurt with Jeff and dove into the pool, swimming out so he was in the appropriate position to help Kurt in the water.

                Jeff turned to Kurt.  “The board is going to move.  It's not like a backyard pool diving board where it's super stiff.”

                “It's not like I would know,” admitted Kurt dryly.

                Jeff chuckled once.  “Yeah, I guess not.  Okay, so I'm going to tighten the board as much as I can.”  He reached over to the spring board and turned a wheel at the side of it.  That done, he went on explaining what Kurt could expect.  “The board is going to move.  You are going to stay in the center, and feel free to use your arms for balance.  We're going to walk to the end-”

                “We?” interrupted Kurt.

                Jeff nodded.  “Yes.  We are going to walk carefully out to the end of the board.  I will then carefully abandon you where you will be forced to take a leap of faith into the arms of the guy whose body you worship from afar.  Dude, it will be just like that scene from Pirates of the Caribbean – where Captain Jack jumps into the water to save Elizabeth.”  Jeff thought for a moment.  “Only opposite. And without the corset.  Although…do you have a corset?”

                Kurt punched Jeff in the arm.  Hard.  “Sterling, you are officially off your rocker.”

                “You love me.”

                Kurt raised an eyebrow.  “As if!  You're not my type.”

                “What? Is it because I'm blond?  Because I could dye my hair.”

                “No, Jeffrey.  It's because you like girls,” Kurt explained slowly to Jeff's inner five year old.  “Is that going to change?  Because I certainly don't have the requisite parts.”

                The two boys looked at each other and burst out laughing. 

                It was so nice to have a group of friends who didn't bat an eye at Kurt's sexual preference – and were able to tease each other and support each other with equal passion.

                “Okay, enough stalling.  Let's get this show on the road. Jeff motioned to Kurt to climb the two steps onto the spring board and then followed him. 

                Kurt was able to use the handrails for balance until he was half way down – but then, it was just the board, floating above the blue water, and Blaine waiting for him.  He was aware of Jeff's encouraging words in his ear.

                “One step at a time.  There's no rush.  You're doing great.”

                 Jeff walked with Kurt to the end of the spring board, hands on Kurt's shoulders.  “See, not so scary.   If the little kids can do it, we know you can.”

                “Thanks,” Kurt said dryly.  “I'm not sure that's engendering the feeling of confidence you were hoping for.  More like, making me feel like a wimp.”

                Jeff squeezed Kurt's shoulders.  “Hey.  Don't be a drama queen.  You know that's not what I meant.  Now, look down and leap into that sexy man's arms.”

                “Excuse me?” Kurt turned to look over his shoulder, causing the board to wobble.  “Shit,” he blurted.  Steadying himself, he continued his threat, “Jeffrey, payback is a bitch…that's all I'm going to say right now.”

                “Yeah. Yeah.  Promises, promises.  Look, I'm going to walk back now.  The board is going to sway a bit.  “Just keep your knees bent, arms out, and look at Blaine.  Focus on Blaine.  Seriously, I'm not being a smart ass this time.”  Jeff walked backwards slowly, keeping an eye on Kurt. 

                Blaine had moved into position about five feet out from the diving board, treading water, and watching Jeff coax Kurt into position.  “Okay, Kurt.  I need you to aim for my hands here,” he said, holding his hands out in front of him, splashing the water.  “You have to trust me.  I'm going to catch you.  You're going to go under, so hold your breath.  Then you're going to kick up, and I'll be there.  I promise you.  Besides, you know you can swim the distance between the diving board and the wall.”

                “And I know I could buy clothes at a discount retailer, like Target.  It doesn't mean I want to,” Kurt retorted.  Stress brought out his sass.  Taking a deep breath, he let his vulnerability show.  “Promise me.  Promise me you're going to catch me,” Kurt called down nervously.

                Blaine splashed his hands again.  “I promise.  Right here, handsome.  You are going to count to five, and jump right here.  Will you do that for me?”

                Nick and Jeff had moved to sit on either side of the ladder exiting from the deep end of the pool.  There for moral support, they also knew if Kurt freaked out during this diving attempt, it would take all three of them to get him safely out of the pool.  Nick moved his hand to make sure the kickboard he'd grabbed ‘just in case' was close.

                “One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.”

                Nick watched as Kurt hesitated for two more counts and then leapt.

                “Oh, shit!”

                “Fuck.  Jeff, grab Kurt.  I've got Blaine.”

                From the moment Kurt jumped, Blaine knew he was in trouble.  It wasn't Kurt's fault.  He was nervous and wanted to make sure that Blaine caught him.  Unfortunately, instead of jumping where Blaine had repeatedly asked him to, out where his hands would be able to quickly snag under his arms, Kurt jumped to him.  

                 This was going to hurt!

                Plunging down under the water, Kurt's body on top of his, Blaine saw stars.  Actual freakin' stars!  He was able to control the sudden impulse to gasp in pain, which would have brought water pouring down his lungs.  Instead he managed to keep his hold on Kurt and kick towards what he presumed was the surface.  He couldn't see for shit.

                Nick grabbed Blaine's waist, pulling the other teen to his chest.  “Let him go, Blaine.  Jeff's got him.”  Once Blaine had released Kurt, Nick kept Blaine floating while quickly assessing the worst of his injuries.  “I've got you.  That's it.”  His nose was bleeding heavily, and looked like it might be broken and his right eye had already started to swell.  “You're a mess, by the way.  Good thing Kurt's mostly interested in your body,” he teased lightly.

                “F'ck me, Duvall,” Blaine groaned.

                Nick laughed.  “Tempting, sweetheart. But, no thank you.  Let me know when you can see again.”

                “Um hmm.  Howz ‘urt?” 

                Nick knew slurred speech was a sign of a concussion.  “Kurt's fine.  You, however, have earned yourself a one way trip on one of Lima's finest ambulances.”

                “What? Nah.”  Blaine struggled to sit forward in the water, but Nick's arm across his chest prevented this. 

                “Don't fight me.  I wouldn't want to have you put you in your place in front of your honey.”

                “Shhshh.  ‘urt's not my ‘nee” argued Blaine half-heartedly.

                “Bullshit.  He is.  He knows it.  You know it.  I know it.  Christ, Nana Sterling knows it.  Stop fighting the tide and learn to surf.”  Nick slowly began swimming the two of them into shallower water.  Spotting Meghan, he called out to her.  “Call 911.  We need an ambulance to transport young Mr. Anderson to Lima General.  He's probably caught himself a concussion named Kurt.”

                Meghan hurried into the office to make the call.

                Blaine tugged weakly at Nick's arm. “Glad you c'n make f'n at my ex'pnse.”

                “It's what friends are for, B.”

                Notified by Meghan that there had been an accident, Scott and Rebecca came running out onto the pool deck.  “Do we need the back board?” asked Rebecca.

                 “Nah, he was moving just fine bringing Kurt up.  I just need some help getting him up onto the deck.  He's got a concussion.  Better get a bucket.”

                They were careful moving Blaine from the pool onto the concrete, but even that slight jostling caused him to vomit.  Thankfully the bucket was close at hand.  By the time his stomach had settled somewhat, they could all hear the sirens. 

                Rebecca stood up from where she'd been attending Blaine, and waved Meghan over.  “Call Pete and let him know Blaine's being transported.  He's got medical power of attorney while Blaine's parents are out of the country.  Then find Kurt's emergency card, and call his father.  Ask him if he can come pick Kurt up,” she instructed.

                “Got it.”

                Rebecca looked down at Scott.  “I need you to go with Blaine.  Grab his emergency file from the office, and his wallet from his locker.  It's a work related accident.  They'll ask.  Stay at the hospital until I get there, or Pete does.  Let me know if anything happens in the meantime.”

                “No problem, Bec.”  Scott got up and hurried to grab the things he needed before the paramedics whisked Blaine away.

                “Bec?”  Blaine called weakly from the ground.  “Bec, where's Kurt?”

                Rebecca crouched down and gently placed her hand on Blaine's forehead, mindful of his swollen eye.  “Shhhh.  Kurt's fine.  He's with Jeff right now.  He's taking good care of him.  I'm sure he'll come see you in the hospital or at the house.  Don't worry about him, B.”

                “Can't help it.”  Those were the last words Blaine said before finally passing out.

                Kurt was frantic.  This was all his fault.

                He had known something was wrong instantly.    Flying through the air, he saw Blaine flinch, close his eyes, and twist away – all before falling on top of him.  In many regards, it was exactly like Blaine said it would be – he went under the water.  He could feel Blaine's hands grab his arms and pull him close.  They kicked up to the surface.  It was at the surface where his world imploded.

                Jeff was suddenly in the pool at his side, grabbing Kurt from behind and pulling him away from Blaine.  “Let go, Kurt.  Let's get you to the side.” 

                It wasn't until he reached up to pull himself up the ladder that Kurt realized his elbow hurt.  Like really hurt.  Pulling himself out, he turned back and realized there was blood in the pool.  Blood that was gushing out from Blaine's nose.  “Oh my god!  Blaine!”  Kurt actually attempted to jump back into the pool to go to Blaine, but Jeff's arm was wrapped tight around his waist, holding him in place.

                “Kurt, calm down.  Nicky's got him.”  Jeff repeated firmly.

                Kurt knew Jeff was speaking to him, but he just couldn't comprehend what he was saying.  It was the strangest sensation.  He just wanted to be with Blaine.  To make sure he was okay.  To take care of him.  He had no idea how long it was before he ‘woke up' but at some point he realized he was sitting on a plastic chair in the corner of the pool deck closest to the diving board.  Jeff was checking out his elbow applying a bag of ice that Nick had quickly run over before going back to Blaine's side.

                “What did I do?  God, Jeff.  Is he going to be okay?”  Kurt was petrified.  Especially when he realized he could hear sirens getting closer to their location.  “Oh my God.  Jeff, he has to go to the hospital?”

                Jeff moved to crouch in front of Kurt.  “Hey, now.  Calm the fuck down.”  Seeing that his use of profanity had pulled Kurt's attention to him, Jeff continued.  “Blaine is going to be fine.  Your elbow has probably broken his nose – hence the bleeding.  And his right side of his face near his eye is swollen.  And Nick thinks he might have a concussion.”

                “What! A concussion!”

                “Don't get your panties in a twist, Hummel.  You hit him hard.  He's a big boy.  The hospital will check him out, give him some meds and send him home.  Where I'm sure he would love to play Dr. Hummel and patient Anderson with you.  You can kiss all his boo boos better.”

                That Kurt didn't chastise Jeff for his inappropriate comment, told the blonde lifeguard just how worried he was about Blaine's condition.

                They watched the paramedics prepare Blaine for transport, which really took longer than Kurt would have thought.  Jeff insisted that Kurt stay where he was, apologizing since he knew how much Kurt wanted to be with Blaine. 

                Kurt's attention was finally drawn away by his father walking on to the pool deck.  Burt approached Kurt and opened his arms.  Kurt flung himself into his dad's embrace. 

                “Dad, I'm so scared.”

                “It's going to be okay, Bud.  It's going to be okay.”

                The emergency room doctor had ordered a minimum of three days bed rest – more if Blaine's headaches and sensitivity to light continued beyond that time.  Saturday evening found him in the care of Nick and Tori who had only been too happy to volunteer to stay at home with their recovering friend.  Have spent 36 hours confined to the small bedroom he shared with Nick, Blaine had begged his friends to help him down to the basement for a small change in environment. 

                That was how Blaine found himself lying on the sectional couch, the basement being lit by the television and one small lamp in the corner of the room.  Curled up on his left side – since the slightest pressure on the right side of his face sent shooting pains through his skull, his head rested on a pillow in Tori's lap.  Nick sat on the other side of his girlfriend, arm wrapped around her, as the three of them watched a marathon of Chopped on The Food Network.

                “Pigs feet.  Asparagus.  Black rice.  Gingersnap cookies.  Who comes up with these combinations?  Are they trying to be cruel?”  Nick commented, half in horror.

                Tori tried to hold back her laughter, not wanting to jostle Blaine's head.  “Sometimes I think they just go around to random people's houses and ask to see what they have in their refrigerators to get ideas,” she admitted.

                “Oh, God!” mumbled Blaine who was only actually listening to the television program.  “Imagine if they came to our house kitchen at Dalton.”  Blaine paused, then deepened his voice to sound more like Chopped's host, Ted Allen.  “In this basket, contestants, you have bologna of an undetermined age, hazelnut coffee creamer, bagged baby carrots, and sweet pickle relish.  Good luck!”

                All three of them giggled quietly at the image until a soft voice from behind them spoke.  “I'd make a bologna rice pilaf scented with hazelnut cream, ginger-cinnamon glazed carrot coins, and a sweet relish gastrique.”

                “KURT!”

                Kurt smiled at Nick and Tori, the only two people he could see, although he had heard Blaine's voice a moment ago.  “Hi!   I hope you don't mind that I came over.  Nana Sterling let me in.  Told me to remind you, Nick and Blaine, that you still need to behave like gentlemen even if she's not here to watch you.”  Smiling, he moved around the couch only to hesitate when he saw where Blaine was lying.

                And there it was.  A flare of jealously.

                “Hi, Blaine,” he greeted softly.

                “Hi, handsome.”  Blaine actually opened his eyes to take in the sight of Kurt before closing them quickly.

                Tori nudged Nick's thigh with her hand.  “Let's go make some dinner.  Kurt can stay here with Blaine.”

                “But I wanted to watch the dessert round,” whined Nick who was oblivious to his girlfriend's motives.

                She snatched the remote from his lap and pressed the record button.  “There. It's recording.  We can watch it when we get back.  Now, let's go make dinner and let Kurt and Blaine have some time.  Alone,” she emphasized.

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah.  ‘Oh'.  I know I asked you out because you have a hot body and all, but you need to know that I find intelligence to be an even bigger turn on,” she teased.

                “I can be smart.”

                “I know you can, baby,” Tori answered with affection.

                “Wait! You asked Nick out?” Blaine asked in confusion.

                Tori ran her hand through Blaine's curls softly.  “Another time, B.  Kurt, why don't you come here and I'll help you slide the pillow onto your lap,” she offered.  Once Kurt had settled down in her place, Tori took Nick's hand and pulled him towards the stairs.  “If you need anything, let us know.  We'll be back – later.”

                Kurt reached out and took Blaine's hand, threading their fingers together.  They sat in comfortable silence for a while until Kurt gathered enough courage to ask the question he was most worried about.

                “Do you hate me?” he whispered.

                “Kurt? What?” Blaine sputtered and then slowly turned over so he was lying on his back.  This allowed him to look at Kurt's face, although he could only do so for short periods of time.  “Do I hate you?  Kurt, I could never hate you.  This was an accident.”  Blaine did his best to reassure the other boy.

                Kurt was staring.  It was the first time he had gotten a look at Blaine's injuries.  Not only was his nose swollen and deep purple, but the right side of his face was deeply bruised as well.  He brushed his fingertips lightly over the swelling, only to stop when Blaine hissed in pain.  “I'm so sorry, Blaine.  So sorry.”

                Blaine didn't realize that Kurt was crying until he felt the tear drops landing on his face.  He opened his eyes and seeing tears sliding down Kurt's cheeks, reached up to brush them away.  “Don't cry, Kurt.  I mean, I know it looks bad.  But Tori and Jordan told me it makes me look tough – like some bad boy fantasy of guy your dad wouldn't want you to date because he rolled up to your house on a motorcycle.” It was clear from his voice that Blaine was a little excited by the idea of being a ‘bad boy'.

                Kurt snorted.  “My dad loves you.  Even if you rolled up on a motorcycle.  He says ‘hello' by the way.  And wanted me to tell you he wants you to come to dinner as soon as you are feeling better.”

                Blaine reached up to brush away one last tear drop, but left his hand cupping Kurt's cheek.  “So your dad invites me to dinner and your dad loves me…no offense, Kurt, but that dinner could be a little awkward.  Your dad is really cool and all, but he's not the Hummel that's caught my fancy.”

                Kurt turned his face into the palm of Blaine's hand and placed a gentle kiss there.  “Caught your fancy, Blaine?  Who talks like that?” he teased.

                Blaine shrugged.  “A dapper bad boy with a private school education?  Come on, Hummel.  Give in to the fantasy.”

                Kurt shook his head.  He began playing with Blaine's curls and massaging his scalp, eliciting a sigh of contentment from him.  “I was a cheerleader sophomore year.”

                Blaine raised his eyebrows but didn't open his eyes.  “And you are offering this random piece of information to me because…”

                “Well, my random facts might not be numbered, but I figured, since we were discussing clichéd fantasy archetypes…I offer my bitchy head cheerleader to your private school bad boy,” explained Kurt.

                “Hmmm.  I see.  Glad to know we have our couple costumes worked out for Halloween,” Blaine said tiredly.

                “You're a dork.  Take a nap.  I'll be here when you wake up,” Kurt whispered.

                “Snuggle with me?” Blaine asked.

                They carefully rearranged themselves in the couch so they could both lie down facing each other, with Blaine on his left side.  He reached up and lightly traced Kurt's lips with a finger.  “I'm your dork, you know,” he said shyly.

                Kurt leaned in to brush their lips together in the lightest of touches.  “I know.”

                Burt Hummel knew that parenting two teenage boys came with its joys, frustrations, and fears.  But when Kurt had come out to him last year, his list of Ways Your Teenage Son Could Be Harmed must have doubled.  And Kurt was a mature, responsible kid.  He didn't even want to imagine what Noah Puckerman's mother worried about on a daily basis.

                So when his normally mature, responsible -but recently infatuated son- hadn't called to say he would be running late, Burt started to become concerned.  He'd talked to Carole, who had reassured him that Kurt had probably only lost track of the time and would be walking through the door shortly, full of apologies for having worried his father.

                Still, when it was almost an hour after Kurt had said he'd be home, and he hadn't picked up when Burt had called his cell phone, Burt's level of concern went from the proverbial yellow alert to orange.  Not quite time to call the emergency rooms of Lima's two hospitals, or the police department to ask about car crashes.  But it was damn close.

                The ringing of the house phone at almost one in the morning made Burt flinch.  He lunged across the couch to pick up.

                “Hello?  Kurt?” he said in a worried rush.

                “Ahem.  Is this Mr. Hummel?  Father of Kurt Hummel?” asked a female voice.

                Burt felt his heart leap to his throat.  Nothing good could come from someone beginning a conversation like that.  “Yes.  Yes, it is.  Is Kurt alright?” he managed to squeak out past the lump in his throat.

                “Oh, yes.  He's right as rain, Mr. Hummel.”

                Burt sagged back on the couch as relief flooded him.

                “This is Margaret Sterling.  Your Kurt is a friend to my grandson, Jeffrey and his schoolmates – Blaine Anderson and Nicholas Duvall.”

                Burt was able to place the elderly voice with that bit of information.  “Nana Sterling!  Yes, Kurt mentioned you.”

                The old woman chuckled softly.  “The boys call me Nana, Mr. Hummel.  Please, do call me Maggie.  I apologize for calling so late into your evening – or early in your morning if you like – but I became entirely too caught up reading my latest romance novel, so much so, that I didn't realize the time.  When I went downstairs to check on the boys, I found all of them dead to the world. 

                “I found this number in Blaine's cellular phone and thought it best I call you.  I've raised six children, Mr. Hummel.  I can only too well imagine the thoughts going through your mind when your Kurt missed his curfew.”

                “Thank you for calling, Maggie.”

                “You are most welcome, dear.  It was no trouble at all.  Now, if you would prefer, I will wake Kurt and send him on his way.  But honestly, he is asleep here in my house.  And I can assure you that nothing untoward will happen.  If it is acceptable to you and your wife, I'll send him home after breakfast.”

                “That is very generous, Maggie.  That would be fine with us,” answered Burt.  “Maggie?  How did you get into Blaine's phone?  Isn't it password protected?

                Maggie Sterling giggled – giggled!- at Burt's question.  “Oh, teenagers think they are so smart.  I've lived 88 years, raised six children and seventeen grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren.  Blaine's no different.  I only had to guess once.  5878.”

                “5878?”

                “Yes.  Those numbers spell out K. U. R. T.  They are rather smitten with each other.”

                “I've noticed,” replied Burt dryly.

                “Blaine's a good boy, Mr. Hummel.  He's had some terrible things done to him and his parents are gone more often than they're home.  Despite all of this, he's become a proper gentleman.  I am as proud of him as I am of any of my grandsons.”

                “That's high praise, Maggie.  I really like Blaine, too.  He's been very good for Kurt.”

                “Kurt's been good for Blaine, as well.  I won't keep you further, Mr. Hummel.  Do try to get some rest now.”

                “I will, Maggie.  You do the same.”

                Sunday breakfast was a huge production at Nana Sterling's house.  Pancakes.  Bacon.  Sausage.  Eggs.  Fruit.  Oatmeal.  Bagels with cream cheese.  Coffee.  Milk.  Freshly squeezed orange juice.  Everyone sat around the oversized kitchen table that had picnic benches as seating rather than chairs (You fit more children that way.).  Plates piled high with the delicious offerings, Pete led the table in saying grace before everyone began eating.

                Blaine was on his third, or possibly is fourth, stack of pancakes when he gestured towards Kurt with his fork.  “We need to discuss payment, Hummel,” he stated.

                Kurt glanced across the table in surprise.  “Payment for what?” he asked.

                “Damages done to me when your elbow carelessly attempted to occupy the same space as my face which, according to the rules of basic physics, is an impossibility.”

                “Uh huh,” answered Kurt noncommittally.  “And what sort of payment were you looking for, Anderson?”

                Nick reached his arm around Jeff's head and slapped a hand over Jeff's mouth.  He refused to move it, even when Jeff began licking his palm.

                “Two things,” began Blaine.

                “I'm actively listening,” Kurt said, stabbing a strawberry with his fork.

                “First: you learn to jump off the diving board and swim to the side without assistance.  It's not part of the proficiency test, but I think you need the challenge.  And you owe me,” remarked Blaine.

                “Uh huh.”  Giving it some thought, Kurt nodded.  “Alright, Anderson, I can agree to that term.  What's the second?” he asked with curiosity.

                “The Warblers are having a swim party at Nick's house next Saturday.  If it's okay with your dad for you to go to Westerville with us and spend the night at the Duvalls-”

                Nick interrupted.  “My parents will be home the entire time and there will be no alcohol or drugs.  They'll call your dad to confirm all of that, too.”

                “Right – so if your dad says it's okay – then my second term is you have to come with me.  Us.”  Blaine glanced down at Pete and Rebecca to see if either of them had overheard his slip up.  Returning his gaze to Kurt, he mouthed ‘With me,'.

                The tops of Kurt's ears reddened at Blaine's request.  He looked over at Nick who was deliberately wiping his hand down Jeff's shirt.  “Are you sure it's okay, Nick?  I mean, if it's a Warbler party…”  He left the rest unspoken.

                Jeff, free of Nick's restraining hand, spoke up.  “Dude, of course it's okay.  Like, everyone brings their girlfriends or boyfriends.”

                There was a loud thump followed immediately by Jeff jumping away from Nick.  “OW!  Shi-take mushrooms.   That hurt, Nick.”  He bent to rub his bruised shin.

                Nick shrugged and looked at Kurt.  “Ignore Jeff.  We all do.  You're our friend.  We'd like you to join us.  And yes, there will be plenty of non-Warblers there, so it won't be socially awkward.  Well, except for Jeff's presence.”

                “Hey, I resent-” began Jeff

                “You resemble that remark.  We know.  Eat your breakfast, Sterling,” Nick teased.

                Kurt smiled at Blaine.  “Well, then, I conditionally accept your second term, Mr. Anderson.  Contingent upon receipt of my father's permission to attend.”

                Blaine smiled shyly in return, raising another bite of pancake to his mouth.