Blaine was sat up in bed reading a worn copy of Jane Eyre by torchlight, the pages turning softer than butter. Propped against up against the headboard of his bed, his washed hair was an unruly dark halo of soft curls that cushioned him like a cloud. He felt weightless and serene as if he was floating softly in a bubble.

The bubble burst when a sudden clatter came to Blaine’s window. There was a persistent shaking like someone was trying to wrench the locked window open.

Terrified Blaine dropped the book from his hands onto the bed and sat up on all fours like a frightened, vulnerable, woodland creature, sensing a predator and confused at what to do. He wanted to call for help but his voice felt suddenly thick and all he could think of to do was to hold the hardback book like a brick over his head, whilst he crept to examine the window.

Pale hands were jerking at the frame and for a fleeting moment he thought it might be a ghost - Mr Rochester’s dead wife? He pondered, but then desperate sapphire eyes locked on his and he recognised the would-be intruder. Blaine dropped the volume on the bed and went to let Kurt in.

Kurt lumbered through the window, knocking an ornament of a bird off the ledge and tangling in the curtains, it was uncharacteristically clumsy, Blaine noted. As often as Kurt would sneak into his room, trying to break in at… wait what time was it even? Blaine couldn’t seem to see a clock anywhere… anyway; this was not a usual occurrence. In fact he only had one very old and faraway memory of Kurt ever doing anything remotely like this.

“Kurt, what on earth’s gotten into you it’s the middle of –” Blaine started having found his voice but Kurt was already cutting in, disregarding Blaine’s questions, sitting up on bent knees and fidgeting. “I just- I-I couldn’t stay home longer, I mean a moment, a second, a, I-I-uh just- urgh! I had, I-I had to see you, this can’t wait any longer,” Kurt words were frantic and ill fitted, as if in his haste to get them out as fast as possible he was disregarding all logic and sense.

Blaine nervously felt himself inching backwards towards the headboard like a crab, hands palm flat behind him, knees still bent, his ass dragging along the comforter of the small bed. But Kurt was following him on all fours fiercely like something feline and wild.

He even looked wild; his usually tame hair was in disarray, the Cheerio’s uniform dishevelled – why was he even in his uniform? Blaine wondered absentmindedly, the question dissolving as soon as he thought it; he was more concerned with why Kurt was here and why he was so… so…

“Blaine I saw you, I saw you sing that song, and I just- I couldn’t- I don’t – I… Urgh!” He’d seen me? But how? Blaine thought as his heart began racing, powered by the frenzied pumping of adrenaline.

Kurt continued, “Everything’s changed and I can’t get you out of my head, I can’t believe how blind I’ve been, I’m in love with you. I-I…” Blaine felt his heart burst in his chest like a pi�ata.

Kurt was gazing at him, his eyes dark but sparkling and Blaine lost all feeling in his body, his knees gibing way so that they feel like tentacles on the bed. Kurt was crawling over his body in haste, his chest dragging up along Blaine’s comatose body, hands planting either side of his head and catching roughly at his curls. Kurt abruptly hurtled his face at Blaine’s as if he were a comet and Blaine only just had time to close his eyes before Kurt drew his lips to Blaine’s.

And this was it! He was kissing him actually kissing him! And it felt… well, honestly it didn’t feel like he’d expected it to feel. It was a lot wetter than he’d imagined, pretty warm though but he was breathing hotly over his nose and eyes and it tasted… well it sort of well like sweat and gravy and –

Blaine’s eyes flew open and he became acutely aware of the body on top of him. “Bowtie! Jeeze what?!” The dozy dog was standing over Blaine’s head, licking his face like a bone, a paw tangled in the acutely frizzed curls. Blaine wrenched himself into a sitting position, knocking the old dog off his body. He landed on the floor with a bark and there was a muffled call from the next room.

“Errph… Blaaaaaine, it’s urgh it’s 5:45am – pack it in! Take him for a walk or something.” Even through the wall the dog could make out the distinct magic word walk. He sat up on his haunches and started whining, scratching at his flank with a wayward leg.

As Blaine put his glasses on it finally dawned on him with a crashing realisation that Kurt was not in his room. Kurt had not been kissing him and of course Kurt had not heard his song. He’d been dreaming. The air he hadn’t realised had been holding, suddenly gush out of him.

He flopped back on the pillows spent and groaning, rubbing his wet face exasperatedly. His bedroom door flung open, and he sat bolt upright. Rachel stood furiously in the doorway, her hands on hips; she slurred a few choice words at Blaine through her retainer before slamming the door again, eliciting more shouts from the next room.

Urgh, who needs an alarm when you’re an Anderberry? Blaine thought petulantly.

…….

The air was cool for mid October and the sky was only just beginning to lighten to a dismal grey. He shook under the coat that his blue and white striped pyjamas covered. In his haste to get out of the house before his dads and sister assembled to lynch like a crowd of torch wielding villagers, he’d only had time to throw on his thick peacoat over his PJ’s and slide into a pair of worn slip on sneakers (glad at least that he’d slept in his socks).

Bowtie was shaking from the force of his wagging tale and Blaine had difficulty in clipping the buberryesq leash to his collar (a gift from Kurt who advocated that as fashion has no gender, it also has no species). When he’d finally gotten himself and Bowtie ready he stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him definitively.

Blaine paced the damp pavement, the excited beast bouncing along at his heels, looking in all directions like everything was brand new and exciting and not the same path they had in fact walked a thousand times before. As old as Bowtie was getting he was still just the same puppy at heart that Blaine had found under the tree of his first Christmas/Hanukah as an official Anderberry, wearing the little red bowtie he was named for.

Bowtie was starting to strain on the leash as they came to the path that wound into the park, well wood practically Blaine thought the trees and wild flowers were so thick that only the presence of a pond and play area really made it a park. Blaine indulged his excitement by striding a little faster, after all at least one of us should get what we want today, Blaine thought bitterly.

Blaine’s mood had been dour as he’d left the house, contemplating recent events in his mind. His failed attempt to serenade Kurt had the double sting of landing him this year’s solo at sectionals, a thought that gave his stomach the feeling of performing Kurt’s triple axel. Why had he listened to Puck – about romance of all things? This was the boy who’d been suspended from school when he’d read allowed his ‘love poem’ in English:
My name is Puck
And I like to-

Bowtie suddenly wrenched at the leash in Blaine’s hand and he stumbled. He was bounding up to a familiar tree, it’s long low hanging branch barely missing the surface of the stream that ran along side it. This tree was familiar to both of them because it where they’d met Kurt.

Bowtie circled the tree sniffing for something intangible whilst tangling himself up in his fashionable leash. Blaine’s despondency began to dissolve as he stroked the rough bark of the tree with affection. This is mine and Kurt’s tree he thought reminiscing.

This was the tree where they’d played house on Kurt’s picnic blanket. The memory of an eight-year-old Kurt presented Blaine with a leaf covered in the daises and grass, as if it were a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. He’d even eaten one to make Kurt laugh then proceeded to throw it up in the stream that swam past by it so closely.

This was the tree they spent their summers under basking in its shade, Blaine reading thick books and Kurt sketching designs on a large pad. Once he’d even managed to sneakily draw Blaine, a boy who cowered from cameras and mirrors. Mortified he’d begged Kurt to destroy it.

It was the same tree that Kurt had convinced a timid little Blaine to climb one day after school at age eleven. Sat high in the tree he’d stared at the knotted hands in his lap. This was only time he’d seen Kurt’s courage falter and quietly he’d told Blaine he like liked boys. All Blaine could think was that he kind of sort of like liked him but all he said in a hushed voice was: ‘Me too.’

Kurt breaking the gaze from his hands had looked at Blaine with a hopeful smile and for just the length of a heartbeat he’d thought he’d seen Kurt twitch in his direction, daring to hope he might have his first kiss.

Until his sister had spotted them gazing at each other and yelled: “Kurt and Blaine. Sitting in a tree. K-I-S…” she didn’t get far before Kurt had leapt from the tree with the moves of a cat and chased her through the trees.

He could hear her shrill screams reverberate through the thick expanse of trees. Blaine had then realised he was alone and very high off the ground and became paralysed with fear. Even when Kurt returned flushed and panting he couldn’t coax Blaine from the tree and it had taken Burt climbing up and throwing him over his shoulder to get him down.

“I hope you’re not planning on climbing that tree again,” a familiar voice drawled. There as if he’d stepped right out of Blaine’s memory and into the present was Kurt’s father, still clad in the flannel and baseball cap he’d wore like a second skin since Blaine could remember. In fact the only time he’d seen him out of it had been last summer when he’s married Carole.

Blaine had fond memories of their wedding, close enough to the family that he’d been asked to be a groomsman, while Kurt had stood by Burt’s side as his best man. When all eyes had turned to see Carole enter in her gown Blaine had snuck a peek at Kurt standing at the alter in a beautifully tailored suit, fantasizing for a moment about what it would be like if Kurt was standing there, waiting for Blaine…

“Don’t think the old heart could take another round of dragging your ass down,” Burt continued chortling and Blaine flushed. As much as Burt had told Blaine it wasn’t his fault he’d still felt guilty when he’d had the heart attack that had almost killed him just days after the incident. He wasn’t the only one to blame himself; even Kurt had thought he’d had something to do with it as he’d come out to his father shortly after he’d spoken to Blaine in the tree.

Burt assuaged both of them their guilt by reminding them that a diet of steak and burgers coupled with exercise that was pretty much refined to channel surfing, was what had done it. And besides he’d told Kurt he knew he was gay since he was three years old and all he’d wanted for his birthday was a pair of sensible heels.

“Don’t worry, nothing could get me back up in that tree,” Blaine said smiling and readjusting the crooked glasses on his nose. He was still waiting for the replacement pair to arrive and while the tape just about kept them together they didn’t sit quite as well as they had done.

“So what brings you here?” Blaine asked. Even though Kurt’s house backed onto the park like an extended backyard he rarely saw Burt on his morning walks with Bowtie.

“Doc gets me to go for a walk everyday, I usually take it on break but we’re leaving in a couple hours for Hawaii and I’m not getting out of it just ‘cause I’m on vacation. Carole says she wants to outlive at least one of her husbands,” he chuckled and Blaine smiled back courteously.

The way he and Carole could laugh off the tragedy he’d had in his life was admirable in some respects, it differed greatly to Kurt who kept a guarded heart on both the topic of his father’s heart attack and his mother. Blaine supposed they all had their own ways of coping.

“I should be getting back before Kurt messes with all the clothes in my suitcase. He’s determined to get me wearing ‘koo-tour’ before he heads off to New York,” Blaine laughed, he knew as well at Burt did what it was like to have Kurt obsess over your wardrobe, he’d been trying to dress Blaine like a doll since his leg cast had come off, but he’d resolutely clung to his bowties and shirts to Kurt’s eternal exasperation.

“Sure thing, have a good time in Hawaii,” Blaine said, turning to leave.

“Oh but one thing Blaine,” Blaine turned back to Burt, “You keep an eye on Kurt. Figures he’d wait for us to leave the state before he started dating someone... well properly. He’s got bigger googol eyes for that Sebastian kid than that werewolf kid in those dapey vampire flicks he keeps makin’ us watch.”

Blaine laughed; he missed the days when his only competition was a straight fictional character. Although Kurt swore that Jacob was gay, after what he’d dubbed the most homoerotic tent scene since Brokeback Mountain.

“Anyway, you just uh, make sure he keeps his head, don’t let him do anything you wouldn’t. You’re a good kid Blaine,” Burt said slapping a bear hand on his arm just bellow his shoulder.

“Thanks Mr H-Burt,” Blaine still couldn’t get used to addressing him informally. “I will but Kurt’s a um good kid too,” he answered.

“I know…” Burt answered conspiratorially. “But that Sebastian kid is not.”

……….

Having walked Bowtie a little earlier than normal a rippling effect had occurred affecting his usual Wednesday morning activities. He’s beaten Rachel to the shower, had the first bagel in the pack for breakfast and gotten the prime space in the parking lot in school.

The only way he could be any closer to the entrance was if he’d parked in the no stopping zone in front of the path that led to the front door. Like the shiny black BMW he saw as he strolled in.

He could just about make out a couple through the tinted windows, but couldn’t work out who they were, the car seemed somewhat familiar, and out of place considering the other vehicles. Even Mr Schu’s car with its dragging exhaust was still one of the nicer ones.

He noticed two Lima Bean take away cups were perched on the roof, abandoned to leave their owners hands free for other activities. It was when he spotted the vivid red wristband sat high up his arm in his trademark style, that he realised who they were.

Kurt and Sebastian were leaning against his car and making out, and he fel this breakfast bagel trying to make a desperate escape through his throat. This was not fair, how could this even be right? He’d been helping Burt pack. He tried to turn carefully on his heels and try to escape when -

“Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice a little husky. He cleared his voice and looked somewhat embarrassed trying to pry himself a little away from Sebastian who would not comply, leaving his arms in a casual but vice like grip around Kurt’s waist. He twisted around though so he could at least look at Blaine.

Blaine didn’t like the possessive way Sebastian held Kurt. There was something in the way he dangled him like a toy in front of Blaine, like he relished in letting him know he couldn’t have him because he owned him. It struck Blaine that he probably did regard Kurt as an object and it did not sit well with him at all.

Blaine hadn’t said anything yet and he felt Sebastian smirking as if it was his doing that Blaine couldn’t articulate himself. Blaine mustered as much dignity as he could before he spoke, “Morning Kurt, Sebastian, you’re early.”

“Sebastian picked me up by surprise this morning and we went for coffee…” Kurt said, he was giving Blaine the oddest of looks, sort of squinting maybe a little embarrassed. “I can see.” Blaine said indicating the cups on the roof.”

Kurt looked to the cups and blushed some more, “I’m leaving for New York in a couple hours, mother wants me to meet a few benefactors before my college interviews. Formality really, I’m a legacy after all,” he drawled, cutting into Kurt and Blaine’s conversation. “But I wanted to see Kurt before I left.”

Kurt withdrew his eyes and gave something of a pout to Sebastian, “You’re missing my party.” Sebastian squeezed him in closer like a snake, “I prefer private parties anyway,” he whispered but not quietly enough for Blaine to miss and he knew it.

“I sh-should get inside, I’ll see you later Kurt,” loosing any shred of dignity he’d managed to muster he started to trudge to the entrance. But Kurt was extraditing himself from Sebastian and catching up to Blaine, “Wait I’m coming too, I’ll see you Sunday Seb, leaving a kiss on his cheek before running to catch Blaine up.

They walked through the door in silence Kurt giving Sebastian one last wave, before striking up conversation with Blaine. “I’m such a bad son, I totally wanted to say bye before they left but I’m helpless when it comes to my caffeine addiction.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind Kurt,” Blaine said staring resolutely ahead. Finn suddenly appeared from around the corner. “Hey dudes.”

“Finn, what are you even doing here this early?” Kurt asked surprised to see his stepbrother. “Coach Beiste told me to come in. Says they’re scouting in Schenectady on Friday and she wants me to go up, they’re just working out the details. But don’t worry I’ll be back in time for the party.”

Kurt blanched, “And what I’m going to have to set up all by myself?”

“Dude, you like, stick and bowl of chips out and stick an ipod on shuffle it’s not that hard,” Finn was shrugging like he didn’t get the big deal.

“I’m a Cheerio Finn, we have standards to uphold, Blaine can you please explain to Finn cause he obviously doesn’t know what standards are,” Kurt said indicating his outfit.

“A level of quality or attainment,” he responded without pause, it sounded as if he were quoting verbatim. Finn looked confounded and even Kurt looked mildly surprised at Blaine’s quick tongue. “Sometimes I swear you swallowed the whole dictionary,” Kurt said.

“You can’t say that, he’s gay, that’s not cool,” Finn shot back.

Kurt gave Finn a reproachful look before shuddering, “Just… just go Finn, before you embarrass yourself anymore. Oh! And you’re on clean up if you’re leaving me to set up – Kurt clean, not just bag the bottles and cans and fabreeze the furniture, like you did last time.”

“Fine,” and with that he strode off to the locker room, with the grace of a pantomime giant. “It astounds me that a woman like Carole could birth something so troglodyte… when did everyone decide to scamper off at once? Do I reek or something?”

For dramatic emphasis Kurt leaned his neck towards Blaine who took a sniff, he smelt like cotton, coffee and something flowery mixed with some kind of sharp cologne that burned his nostrils just a little. Sebastian.

“You smell fine,” Blaine responded flippantly. Well duh of course I do, you’re so… literal Blaine,” Kurt answered him back in a clipped voice.

“I have to be, Brittany gets confused if I’m not,” Blaine added defensively. “You and Brittany…” Kurt laughed, “I had no idea when I asked you to help her study I’d be creating Braine.”

“I’m sorry – what?” Blaine asked, genuine confusion clouding his face.

“Jacob posted it on his blog, apparently you caused quite a stir with your performance in Glee the other day… Oh! I can’t believe I haven’t even congratulated you yet.” He suddenly flung his arms around Blaine, the shock of it rendering him speechless.

“I can’t believe you are actually going to solo! … I-I wish I’d seen it,” Kurt bit his lip and his eyes twitched to Blaine’s, there was something secretive and questioning about his expression. It was enough to make Blaine wonder what had Jacob written? He’d have to read his blog post as soon as he could.

A locker door slammed and there appeared Rachel fuming, “You mean the solo he stole from me. The levels your audacity can sink to are appalling Blaine. It’s not enough for you to mess with my love life but now you’re trying to ruin my career.”

Blaine was still rendered inarticulate from Kurt’s full body assault and couldn’t seem to string a sentence together. But Kurt was on it.

“At least you have Blaine to blame now, must be a comfort to know you won’t be rejected solely on the basis of your drag queen Barbra Streisand act and for lack of a better word ‘personality’” She let out a sound something like a hamster might mke just before you stepped on it and with furrowed brows she clomped away. But not before knocking into Blaine and saying, “Sleep with one eye open brother”

Her footsteps could be heard for some time before Kurt began speaking again, “I don’t know how you physically can live with that, I thought Finn was bad enough but…”

“She’s not usually this bad, she’s antsy cause she’s trying to get into NYADA. Plus she tends to get a little crazy when she fights with Finn,” Blaine said trying in vain to defend her sister.

“She’s always fighting with Finn, thus she is always this crazy, you’re just to nice for your own good. Anyway, you need a break from the crazy and I need help setting up my party sooo brainwave you are sleeping over Friday night!”

Blaine paled, a sleepover at Kurt’s empty house? On date night? How oblivious could Kurt be? “I’ve got work that night and I’m helping Brittany study Saturday afternoon…”

“Perfect; you can come straight from work, I’ll cook - something nutritious of course, you’re getting a total bubble butt from all the backed goods I’ve been sending you.”
Blaine blushed and took an instant and regrettable look at his own ass, making Kurt laugh raucously.

“Then Saturday you can help me set up before you go over to Britt’s you guys can come together and I don’t have to worry about her getting lose in the park again!”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer are you?”

“Do I ever?”

“Good Point.”

They said their goodbyes and went to their separate homerooms, Blaine looking over his shoulder at lithe frame of Kurt retreating through the door. Blaine turned the prospect over in his mind. A sleepover at Kurt’s… was this such a good idea?