In less than a week Sebastian had gotten further with Kurt than he’d ever dreamed possible for himself. After their kiss on Tuesday they had gone out a couple of times, the distance and Kurt’s lack of transportation hindering them from spending every second of the day together. But they text each other constantly and Kurt would often be standing talking to Blaine, only to stop when the tell tale blipping of the phone indicated another message from his… boyfriend.

Kurt didn’t need to call him that for Blaine to know that that was exactly what he was. So Blaine who was always available for him, who’d drop his homework to go for coffee, who would put down a novel (right when the murder was about to be revealed) to go see a rom-com Kurt was dying to see, began to distance himself from his best friend.

He avoided his late night phone calls and text him in the morning pretending to have fallen asleep. He hid himself online so he didn’t have to chat. He’d make plans to third wheel with Mike and Tina before Kurt had the opportunity to see if he was free. He invented non-existent homework so he could stay at home and study. He sat between Finn and Sam in the choir room to avoid the heat and proximity of Kurt’s body next to his. And he threw himself into his tutoring with Brittany with renewed vigour.

In fact, he monopolised Brittany’s time to the point where she began to spend less and less time with Santana, who made her feelings on the matter as clear as razor sharp cut glass. Good Blaine thought if anyone should even be a close to miserable as I feel I’m glad it’s her. Blaine was a nice polite boy who rarely thought such harsh things about people but Santana had been pushing him recently and he had a sneaking suspicion why.

Only today while he’d hastened to grab his books lest Kurt catch him before he got to AP Calculus had she cornered him at his locker. “It’s been noted that you’re not hanging off Kurt’s heels like a little puppy dog anymore. And while I do miss that oh so delicious irony of your top and bottom pairing. I am pleased that Kurt’s finally managed to both land a rather spectacular piece of man candy and ditch your Saved By The Bell Skreetchness in a single week. Both of which have simultaneously boosted his social cred even further than they already were.” She’d spouted this maliciously before knocking the books from his hands and striding away.

While collecting his books from the ground, Blaine had missed his window of opportunity to avoid Kurt who he could see had just spied Blaine and paced quickly to his side, clad in the uniform colours of red white and black. “You are like a rainbow these days Blainers, rare but always colourful,” he said indicating his attire that day. Blaine was wearing an emerald checked shirt, orange and red striped suspenders and a snow-white bowtie with a pattern of little purple bowties.

“I know, but you know, lots of classes, college applications… you must be busy too,” he buried his face in his locker trying to mask the tell tale look of sorrow dimming his eyes and weakening the muscles in his mouth.

“Yeah Sue has us working pretty hard, she’s even got me taking these extra special secret classes. I’m not supposed to tell anyone or she’ll quote: ‘render my loins null and void’ totally creepy… but I’ll let you in on the secret,” Kurt said and although Blaine could not see his face from his present location he was certain from the tone that he had the smile he reserved for moments like this when he was trying to tentatively coax the happiness out of Blaine. Blaine had enough secrets to deal with.

He rearranged the features on his face to resemble a smile, one that he couldn’t quite persuade his eyes into achieving, so avoided Kurt’s own at all costs as he spoke “Don’t worry, I’d hate for you to get in trouble with Satan herself. Lord knows what dastardly deal you’d have to execute to get them back. I’ll see it when you perform it at the tournament.”

He was about to leave and throw Kurt an off hand goodbye, feigning lateness to a class he still had ample time to get to, when he felt Kurt grip one of his elbows. His books were held tightly to his chest like a shield the arms crossed over like a double barrier, the melodramatic voice in his head philosophising that they were protecting the pieces of his broken heart.

Blaine froze at the touch and Kurt seemed to note it and dropped his hand. But he could feel his penetrating stare when he asked: “Are you okay Blaine? Is something up with school? Has someone been giving you a hard time? Is it Santana? I know she can be pretty catty when people muscle in on Brittany. Is it, is it Se-” babbled Kurt, but before he could articulate the first syllable of his wretched name Blaine slapped a poker face on and looked Kurt right in the eyes.

“Like I said, school’s been pretty busy. It’s pretty stressful getting all these college essays in. They weren’t kidding at how stressful it would be. I guess I’m just letting it get to me.”

He could see Kurt working this over in his eyes, his big doe like sapphire eyes that sparkled even in this hideous florescent lighting. Blaine’s words seemed to have placated him somewhat for now but he knew he hadn’t convinced him entirely.

“I’m sorry, I know, I guess if I was applying to the big fancy schools like you I’d be more… edgy too. There’s only one school I really want to go to anyway, if not I plan to just live off the streets of New York designing clothes for rats and street urchins,” Kurt was pinning all his hopes on Parsons in New York’s trendy Greenwich Village.

Blaine just noted the hint of insecurity in Kurt’s voice and couldn’t stop himself saying, “I believe in you Kurt, there’s no doubt in my mind that you won’t get in.” Kurt smiled happy to see just the slightest return of his friend, his voice was almost hopeful when he asked, “Did you end up applying to NYU?”

Blaine had tossed and turned over this decision, NYU was the only school he’d even considered applying to for creative writing. He’d filled out the application but it had sat in a manila envelope on his desks for weeks. Only at the last minute had he posted it, saying to himself that they wouldn’t accept him and then he could finally put the silly dream to rest. “I did but I’m leaning more to Stanford or Princeton. There didn’t seem any harm mailing it in, even if it is silly,” he noted, practically.
“It’s not silly, you’ve dreamed about writing for years. I still have the stories you used to write me in middle school. Asides from your occasional recommendations they’re the only things I like to read, well and vogue of course, but that’s more religious than recreational.” Blaine laughed in spite of himself and it pleased Kurt.

“That’s only because I wrote you as the main character: running clothing stores, eating cupcakes and never gaining a pound, meeting Daniel Radcliff…” Kurt broke in “Just as life should be, I always liked to think of your works as non-fiction premonitions as apposed to fantasy,” he laughed and adopted a more serious tone. “You know Blaine, dreams are never silly…”

Kurt’s phone suddenly began to ring and he jumped surprised. It was interesting to note because Blaine never saw Kurt surprised to receive a phone call, he held the phone and Blaine could see the smug flashing face of Sebastian Smyth smirking. “You should take that,” Blaine said, “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll see you later.”

With that he turned and walked away, the clopping of his Oxford browns blending into the now thinning crowd. As he walked away he turned over the last thing Kurt had said to him over and over in his mind: dreams are never silly…

Yes they were Blaine thought over the rhythm of his pacing. When you dream bigger than you can possibly reach you’ll fall hard and you won’t just land in the comfort of your bed. You’ll fall until you land in a nightmare you’ll never wake up from.

As he rounded the corner he failed to notice Kurt who’s eyes bore into his back as he disappeared from sight. Or the phone that was still ringing unanswered in his hand.

………

Blaine was sucking out the crystal sugars of his last pixie stick while Brittany was tapping her feather ended bejewelled pen against the note pad. Pixie sticks were something of a vice for Blaine who brought them by the box and he had them on hand for every study session. Kurt chastised him constantly and blamed his addiction for the golden filling at the back of his mouth.

Brittany finally dropped the pen in frustration and signed, “I’m not getting it, can’t we take a break Mr Anderberry?” Brittany had taken to calling Blaine by this formal name when they studied, for after all he basically was her teacher, her real math teach had given up on her long ago when she’d drawn pictures of her cat where the answers to her test should go.

“You’ve got it Britt just focus, feel the magic of the pen, it wants to help you…” Blaine had taken the advice of Artie who’s told him that Brittany whole-heartedly believed in magic and especially magic objects. He’d used this tactic last year to boost her confidence enough to dance fantastically alongside Mike and win them their Regionals trophy. She had unfortunately lost the comb after this performance and Artie (mentally) kicked himself, believing if she hadn’t they might have been able to finally win nationals.

So Blaine had made up the story that he had found this pen years ago in the nest of a phoenix in the park. That he had used it in class and had scored flawless grades, until the magic had run out for him a year later. He told her that anyone who used the pen was guaranteed a significant mental boost for the length of the year.

So combined with the ‘magic pen’ and Blaine’s rigorous and numerous tutorials Brittany’s grade had risen to what he considered a shaky C. But the test was now fast approaching and Brittany needed just a little more of a push to fly from the nest. “Come on Britt…”

“…is it 7/32?” she finally said. “That’s it!” Blaine exclaimed clapping her on the back as she smiled radiantly. “This calls for celebrations and a break I think, I’m going to go get Kurt’s treats.” As Blaine had been avoiding Kurt Brittany had brought over the latest bakery concoction, with the promise she would not eat them and Blaine would share them on their first break.

He got a couple of plates out of the cupboard, chipped pieces from ebay and antique shops with pictures from a series of musicals, the intact ones locked away in a china cabinet in the basement with a large padlock. Inside the box sat the most marvellous cupcakes he’d seen to date. Vanilla and cinnamon bases with golden cases, curling swirling butter icing tinged dark orange at their edges and pale apricot in the middle. Scattered on top of each were a sparkling dust of orange sherbet and little blue sugar stars, like a fairytale galaxy.

He placed one over the face of the Wicked Witch of the West for himself and two over the grinning one of Maria from The Sound of Music. After all, this was most likely the only thing she’d eaten besides mung bean soup all day.

Blaine brought them upstairs and pushed the door open with his elbow. “You’re in for a treat Britt, Kurt made…” he broke off as he realised he was speaking to an empty chair and wondered where she’d gone. He flicked his eyes to the side and saw her curled up on his bed holding the hand painted picture frame that housed the picture of little Kurt and little Blaine.

“What’s it like meeting your penguin?” Brittany asked casually, not taking her eyes off the picture. Blaine furrowed his brows still holding the little plates in front of him. “Pardon?”

“You know, it’s like your soul mate but for gay people. You should really read the pamphlets in Miss Pillsbury’s office. You’d learn a lot,” She said matter of factly; she was completely unaware of Blaine’s continued slack jawed frozen stare. “I thought maybe once I’d found mine but… Ooooo! CUPACAKES!” She yelled, jumping from the bed, the picture forgotten and yanking the plate out of his hand.

Blaine sat down dazed in the chair, Brittany had devoured an entire cake, frosting on the tip of her nose before he was able to string together a coherent sentence. “Brittany K-Kurt’s just, we’re just friends Britt. He’s not my… soul mate.”

“Well no of course not, like I said he’s your Penguin. Haven’t you seen those gay penguins before in the news?” Blaine, was stunned, partly because Brittany admitted to watching the news. But obviously because she’d seen what he tried so hard to hide. “No Britt no, we’re not penguin’s, we’re not anything, we’re just, we’re just friends,” he said barely containing the sad note to his words.

“Blaine I’m going to be honest with you. I know Kurt has nicer feathers than you. He’s waddles taller than you and he’s got a better beak. But you and he were born to be together. If you let Sebastian take that away from you, you’ll both die miserable, alone and human. Have courage and make your move. Remember: Actions speak louder than birds.”

Blaine wanted to correct her phrase, but resisted. Instead he opened his mouth and said, “Brittany right now fractions speak louder than anything. Let’s just get back to work.”

Little did Blaine know that he would take Brittany’s advice in just a few short days and have his first ever kiss with Kurt.