After what eventually became a later close than Blaine anticipated largely due to his hand, which took a somewhat worryingly long time to stop bleeding he’d finally gotten home around 10:15, having dropped Kurt off at home first. Kurt did not have his Navigator at the present time because his father was holding it prisoner at his garage after Kurt had miscalculated the space between his car and his stepmother’s in the driveway and crashed it.

He might have forgiven him and returned it by now had he not found out that this had occurred due to Kurt yammering down the phone to Mercedes at the time. Burt had exasperatedly yelled at Kurt and asked him why he couldn’t be as responsible a human as Blaine. Blaine had mentally kicked Burt in the jewels for that one, he didn’t need anymore reason for Kurt to see him as a total nerd he was. Lucky for Kurt he was never short on offers for a lift and when he wasn’t being driven by Santana or Mercedes Blaine was happy to give Kurt a ride. He blushed like a girl at the phrasing in his own mind.

He walked into the kitchen to retrieve some kind of snack to take back to his room when he saw the Pizza box on the side with a note sat atop:
Saved you some Pizza in case you were hungry. I’m helping your father with fag hag Friday at Scandals tonight and Rachel is over at Tina’s house working on your routine for sectionals. We’ve already walked Bowtie, no doubt he’ll be dead to the world by the time you read this. Love you Dads x

Blaine’s father Leroy owned the only gay bar within 65 miles and it wasn’t unusual for Hiram his other father to help out on special nights. All of a sudden as if waiting for his cue there was a sudden ripping noise through the kitchen coming from the pillow bed under the kitchen table. Bowtie was lying flat on his back his wide belly exposed as he snored with the vigour of middle-aged plumber. Blaine chuckled and popped the pepperoni pizza into the microwave to heat up. While waiting he filled a glass with milk and went to check for post.

Waiting for him was a package from Amazon with a new textbook for college level calculus and The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman. Blaine was already four pages in when the timer pinged loudly in the kitchen. With the books, pizza and milk he struggled up the stairs to his room. It was pitch black asides from the one star which struggled to glow amongst the rest which had given out years ago, relics of Kurt and Blaine’s first summer as friends.

Blaine managed to flick the light on with his elbow and popped the milk and pizza on the large oak desk next to his laptop, missing the pile of cogs and watch faces. One of Blaine’s favourite hobbies was to fix old and broken pocket watches, one of which he had gifted to Kurt for his birthday last year. The rest happily ticked in deep-set frames on the wall behind his laptop above a line of perfectly ordered and also framed photos. He turned the laptop on and while that was loading he placed The Amber Spyglass on his nightstand and went to catalogue the textbook. He wasn’t going to need it until winter break when he’d be attending a mixer for potential new college candidates - although it was more geared as a social occasion; Blaine liked to be mentally prepared.

He was planning to eventually go into accountancy or investment banking as he really did have a head for numbers. When Blaine was little he’d thought he would grow up to be librarian but had changed his mind his mind to become a writer, he just loved to live in fictional worlds and figured he’d write epic fantasy novels. But his guidance councillor had noted that this wasn’t exactly the most practical of dreams and if Blaine was anything at all he was practical and had locked those dreams away with the memories of his childhood.

His books were sorted according to the Dewey decimal system across three wide floor to ceiling bookcases, which dominated the back wall. Kurt had on one study session in Blaine’s room once placed a book on Aztec history in amongst a selection of maths textbooks and Blaine had immediately darted up to rectify the order. Kurt had cut in exasperatedly, “Jeeze Blaine I know you’re gay but there’s no reason to be sooo anal.” To which Blaine had started chocking on Kurt’s fat free popcorn. Kurt had rolled over on Blaine’s bed shaking with laughter. The sudden memory of Kurt lying out on his bed convulsing was a very distracting image.

He was pulled out of his memories by the sudden chiming of his laptop, which had finished loading. Pulling up a new browser window he started to tuck into the pizza, which by the time he’d checked his emails were just stale crusts abandoned on the plate. He tapped the tops of the keys lightly with his fingertips.

He should start researching study tips for remedial students he thought, Brittany would be meeting him after his shift tomorrow to start studying and he had no idea where to start. Not to mention it was never to early to start researching books for his English critique due shortly after the winter break, only two and a half months away.

But his mind was niggling away at the previous events of the night. Sebastian had gotten right under his skin and had flirted shamelessly with Kurt. Not to mention he’d left Kurt with his number. All the way home Kurt had been ringing the top of the paper cup with his finger babbling away about this and that but had had a somewhat far away and distracted expression.

Blaine finally relented and began the process of stalking Sebastian. It didn’t take too long for him to find his Facebook page and was pleased to see that his profile was open to all. As were his legs he mused. His profile picture was casual, but calculated. He had a cocky crooked side grin like he was sharing a secret dirty little joke, looking a little off to the side as if to suggest he was part of a large unseen crowd. The informal polo was popped at the collar, but with a friend like Kurt Blaine could tell the item probably cost more than a month’s wages at the Lima Bean.

Blaine’s photo was startlingly different. He never photographed well and had eventually chosen his yearbook picture. Blaine had an unruly mop of curls that resembled what a person might look like if they licked their fingers before putting them in a light socket. So from the age of thirteen he had taken to pouring on the hair products and combing it until it looked like what Kurt had affectionately dubbed the gelmit. Combined with his pointed eyebrows that made him look perpetually surprised, rectangle glasses and his standard attire of a bowtie, shirt and cardigan - he looked like a child. No wonder Kurt would ever see him differently he thought miserably. But the biggest difference between his and Sebastian’s pictures was that Sebastian’s exuded confidence, to which Blaine had none.

The next thing he noticed was the boy’s friend count. He had 457 friends! Blaine wondered if he’d even met that many people. Blaine’s friend count was a measly 41, not even 10% of Sebastian’s staggering amount. He’d lived in Paris and London, and travelled beyond that, a photo album showed many holiday snaps from Athens to Rio. He liked a lot of bands, half of which Blaine hadn’t even heard of. He was on the Dalton Lacrosse team. He’d even had a bit part in an indie movie.

Blaine felt well and truly screwed.

Deflated he quickly skimmed his own feed. Mike was in Baltimore at a family reunion, his status alerting all that he was ‘having a nice time’ – the boy had a real way with words, he thought sarcastically but with genuine affection. Asides from Kurt Mike was Blaine’s closest friend having met at Math-Magician camp they’d bonded over their uncanny abilities to make remainders disappear! This would explain why Tina suddenly had some free time for Rachel (although of all her options why Rachel he pondered). Speaking of which Tina had left a somewhat cryptic status: My voice might be sharp but at least it wouldn’t poke someone’s eye out like the shnoz.

The downstairs door suddenly slammed and Blaine heard a scuffle followed by stamping up the Stairs. His door was flung open and Blaine started, upsetting the remainder of his milk, which he narrowly managed to catch. “Jeeze Rachel! I thought we’d established that knocking was a requirement at all times!” There was a very good reason for this rule. A humiliating and life scarring reason that he and Rachel had made a non-verbal pact to never talk about again…

“What’s that over your dress?” Blaine said banishing the disturbing image from his mind. “Banoffee Pie!” She replied acidly. “ARGH! She’s so infuriating! I made a few minor suggestions that could drastically improve her performance. And-and she flipped out like some kind of lunatic! And threw her pie all over me!” She gestured to her dress and Blaine noted amusedly the small piece of banana that topped her head like a cherry. “Why do people never realise I know better?” she stated with the dramatics of a small town production of Hamlet.

“Hate to break it to you sis but I for one can vouch that you don’t know everything.” Blaine said and suddenly realised that was the wrong thing to stay. Rachel strode over and kicked the lever under Blaine chair so it fell to its smallest height. Placing one hand on his right armrest she poked him between the eyes with the index finger of the other. “I have NOT forgotten what you did Blaine. Mark my words. My revenge will be swift and like this pie on my dress – severved cold.”

With that she stormed out slamming the door which knocked the dragon poster that had been tacked to the back. Blaine adjusted his chair back to the correct height and went to rehang the poster with careful precision. Slumping back in his chair he pinched the bridge of his nose behind the glasses. He really had no idea what she was going on about, but this wasn’t uncommon. He’d given up caring a long time ago. Get through the rest of this year and I’ll be at college. No more insane sister.

The still open Facebook page pinged with a message.
Kurt: You still up?

Blaine sat up straight and typed back.

Blaine: Indeed, dads are at Scandals. Was going to be a quiet night before the tornado from the Wizard of Oz arrived…
Kurt: Ah yes, take it Tina didn’t take toooo kindly to Rachel’s critiquing?
Blaine: You have assumed right.
Blaine: Wait how did you know?
Kurt: Pfft. How is it you haven’t realised by now that I know all and see all.
Kurt: Also Mercedes text me.
Blaine: Did she mention the part where Tina threw Pie at Rachel?
Kurt: NO!!!!!!! Oh. My. God. That is PRICELESS! Please tell me you managed to get a photo?! Brittany would love to include that in the Muckraker!
Blaine: Would you get in the ring with a Bull during a fight to take its picture?
Kurt: Fair Point.
Kurt: So Sebastian, you know the guy we met tonight?

Blaine paused his mouth going dry before replying.

Blaine: Yes Kurt, the Alzheimer’s hasn’t set in just yet.
Kurt: Ha Ha… Well he’s just added me to Facebook as well. First his number now this…

Blaine mirrored those thoughts exactly, but while Kurt was excited and probably had butterflies in his tummy, Blaine was distressed and sick to his stomach.

Blaine: The guy is persistent.
Kurt: Right huh? He was super cocky at the coffee shop. I don’t normally go for cocky (yes insert a million obvious gay jokes) but… he’s kind of cool.
Kurt: Actually kind of slushie in the face cold!

Not that Kurt would know Blaine thought, Blaine however was very familiar with that particular feeling.

Blaine: Oh how so?

And Kurt went on to list all the things Blaine had already found out about him. He zoned out looking at the pictures on the wall behind his laptop. Family Christmas photos in matching sweaters. Him and a small mike dressed as magicians holding calculators in the air like wands. New Directions proudly holding last years Regionals trophy.

But dead centre where he his eyes were now rested was a picture in a frame that did not resemble the rest of the uniform brown frames. This one was hand painted and resembled the swirling skies of Van Gogh’s Starry Night which Kurt had made Blaine four years ago for his birthday. The picture inside was a photo taken by Hirum of Kurt and Blaine sat in seven-year-old Kurt’s makeshift book skyscraper Manhattan. Kurt had no money that year having just spent his last penny on tickets to see Brittany Spears, he’d apologised for the hand made and promised Blaine something else in a couple of months. But Blaine had been staggered and told him not to worry because it was the best gift he’d ever received.

Kurt: Blaine you there? Did the she beast come back to tear your virgin flesh?

Blaine physically shook his head to will himself back into the conversation.

Blaine: Yeah sorry just distracted by an email from amazon, can you believe they suggested I might like books on Bowtie fashion and Math?!
Kurt: *Gasp* Idiots! What do they know?! They also suggested I might be interested in the new Lady Gaga album – don’t they realise I only listen to Danish folk metal?
Blaine: lol!
Kurt: So to recap I said: do you think he’d really go for me?

Blaine really wanted out of this conversation. Why did Kurt have to torture him? Santana or Mercedes would be thrilled to talk about boys with him. But it was Friday night so Mercedes would be out with Shane and Santana would be on her 3rd or 4th date by now. They’d both tried a couple of unsuccessful attempts at setting Kurt up before with the handful of gay teenagers in a 20-mile radius but none had really taken Kurt’s fancy. Kurt just seemed content to stand atop the cheerleader pyramid and work tirelessly at his fabric creations to make his New York fashion design dreams come true.

Being Kurt’s only Gay friend meant he’d always talk to Blaine and want his opinions about these encounters, even if Blaine had even less experience. Blaine’s only opinion was that none of these guys were good enough for Kurt and the only person he should be interested in was woefully out of his league. While Blaine could tell immediately that none of the other guys had really interested Kurt this time was different. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

Blaine: He’d be a certified crazy to not.
Kurt: Thanks Blaine, I better go start my nighttime beauty moisturising routine before my skin turns to this leather I’ve been chewing! Brittany will meet you when you finish work tomorrow, thanks again for doing this. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for X

With that Kurt’s status went to offline and Blaine sat staring at the computer. Before shutting it down to go to sleep he dragged his finger over the little X Kurt had typed and sighed deeply.