After they returned from Greensboro, Kurt and Blaine sat down with Isabelle and decided that their goal was to compete in the 2017 Nationals, giving them a year of competing together before the make-it-or-break-it 2018 competition that would decide which athletes got to go to the Olympics. With a timeline firmly in place, Isabelle then proposed a change to how they were training. She wanted Blaine to get fully up-to-speed in his skating by January of the next year, so that he and Kurt would then have a full year of practicing together before their first Nationals.

Blaine had come a long way, but he needed to make his skating seamless and to learn the two triple jumps that he would need for competition. To accomplish that, he would need to spend an extra day a week with his private coach, leaving just two days a week to work with Kurt.

Since Kurt needed to keep his own skills in competition shape, Isabelle suggested that they bring in another training partner for him. This would also allow them to begin choreographing a competition routine. The partner didn't have to have skating chemistry with Kurt or have to be eligible to skate for the U.S. team, so finding someone wouldn't be hard.

Kurt, who was well aware that his finances had taken a hit after losing some of his sponsors, put off agreeing to the plan until he was able to check his bank account and do some number crunching. He looked at the balance on his savings account and decided that with a few extra Blackbird commissions and a little belt tightening he could make it work. He and Isabelle put out feelers and within a week they had hired Chen Zing, a skater originally from China who had recently moved to the States. Chen wasn't good enough to be a top skater in his country and didn't really have the fighting spirit needed for competition, but he served Kurt's purpose. Plus, he barely spoke any English beyond skating terms, so he wasn't offended when Kurt was, well, his usual colorful self.

Chen had his wife and young child with him, so every day he left immediately after practice to be with them, leaving Kurt alone to do some additional practicing on his own. On those days Kurt usually only caught sight of Blaine from a distance as he left the smaller practice rink with Artie or some other friend, a casual wave tossed in Kurt's direction as they went off to a club or bar or who-knows-where.

The months rushed by and Kurt and Blaine settled into a comfortable pattern. They made small talk during their twice weekly practices and shared funny stories, but always said their goodbyes at the door and never saw each other outside of the rink. Kurt cut down on the sarcastic remarks and Blaine did his best not to antagonize Kurt on purpose.

Of course it wasn't all smooth sailing.

In early May, Kurt began to notice some changes going on at the rink. At first it was relatively small things, like a new space heater appearing in the bleachers or new foam on the floor in the room that they used to train for lifts and jumps. While April provided him with the use of the building for free, it had always been up to Kurt to pay for any figure skating specific upgrades. He should have found it suspicious, but for some reason he just shrugged it off and told himself that April was being even more generous than usual as he warmed his hands by the new heater and enjoyed the softness of the new foam when he fell.

It wasn't until a sports medicine quality Jacuzzi appeared in the locker room that he was forced to face the fact that April wasn't responsible. The next day, his suspicions were proven correct when he returned early from a lunchtime appointment to find Blaine standing at the far end of the rink with two men, describing the comfy reading area he wanted installed in an alcove. Excitement shown on Blaine's face as he described the overstuffed chairs and book shelves he wanted, but his expression froze when he saw Kurt standing in the doorway. He excused himself with a guilty flush and made his way over to Kurt.

"Kurt, you're early. I-I wasn't expecting you back until—"

"What are you doing?" Kurt cut him off with a scowl. "Has it been you the whole time? The heater, the foam, the Jacuzzi?"

Blaine avoided his gaze, suddenly finding the floor beneath his feet endlessly fascinating. "Um…yeah…I just —"

"Well, I'm sorry if our humble offerings don't live up to what you were used to in the HNL…"

"NHL."

Kurt glared icily at the interruption. "…but you're just going to have to get used to roughing it alongside us peasants."

"I just saw that some things were wearing out around here and I know that hiring a training partner is expensive so —"

"I work hard for what I have, Blaine and I don't need your charity. I am more than capable of taking care of whatever is needed around here, so please just stay out of it." Kurt spun on his heel and began to walk away.

Blaine reached out and touched Kurt's arm lightly, bringing him to a stop. "Please, wait. This isn't charity, I swear. I've just been feeling really guilty lately. You took such a risk on me and I know that it's ended up costing you more than you expected. I just…I just want to do my part and pull my own weight and since I can't do that right now with my skating and I decided I had to do it with my money. Besides, it's because of me that any of that stuff is needed anyways. I'm spending so much time on my butt in the practice room that I needed to get that extra padding in there if I ever wanted to walk again. And the Jacuzzi, well, these muscles aren't used to skating you know. I ache like an old man."

Kurt could feel his indignation melting away under Blaine's earnest argument. "And what about the reading nook?" he waved his hand towards the far wall

Blaine blushed and batted his absurdly long eyelashes at him. "I just thought it'd be nice to have a snug little spot to sit and read in while the Zamboni is doing its thing. OK, so that's for both of us. Come on, don't be mad. Please?"

Though a small voice in the back of his mind still protested that it was charity, Kurt decided to give in semi-gracefully. His butt did get awfully stiff and cold sitting on the bleachers waiting for the ice to be resurfaced.

That day marked a small turn-around in his and Blaine's relationship. The next day, just as they were leaving the rink, Blaine tossed off an invitation for coffee and Kurt surprised him by accepting. He got a lot of satisfaction from Blaine's dumbfounded expression. "What? I'm thirsty," he shrugged as he picked up his messenger bag.

They began meeting for coffee twice a week, sometimes after their joint practices and sometimes on the days when they trained separately. They started out only talking about skating, but as time went on the topics became a bit more personal. Kurt opened up a little, but still held something back. He found himself telling Blaine about how he only saw Adam one every couple of months because of the distance, but he kept to himself the fact that he didn't really mind the separation. He told funny stories about Santana and their years skating together, but never mentioned how some nights he just stared at the phone, wanting desperately for it to ring and for it to be his former friend on the other end. And he listened as Blaine told amusing stories from his weekend exploits and never once let on that the idea of Blaine in another man's arm bothered him much more than it should.

=^..^=

Blaine took a deep breath as he followed Kurt and Cooper through the doors of Nationwide Arena and held his ticket out to be scanned. They were in Columbus to see his old team, the Vancouver Canucks, play the Columbus Blue Jackets in one of the first games of the regular season. He'd known that it really wasn't Kurt's thing when he'd given him the ticket for his birthday, but they'd become a lot friendlier lately, so he'd taken the chance. Kurt had made a few caustic comments about the joys of spending several hours in the company of beer swigging sports fanatics, but in the end he'd accepted the invitation. His only stipulation was that he refused to do The Wave.

Blaine was practically vibrating with excitement as they passed through the crowd at the entrance into the main hall of the arena. He hadn't been to see a NHL game in person in almost a year and he could already feel the anticipation of the puck drop coursing through his veins. He paused to buy several tickets for the 50/50 raffle and then he and Cooper walked on either side of Kurt as they made their way towards the aisle where their seats were located.

Though Blaine knew there was nothing to worry about, he supposed that they were unconsciously acting as a barrier between Kurt and the teaming jersey clad hoards. He knew that Kurt wasn't a big fan of crowds, especially one so testosterone fueled. A lifetime spent being exposed to local thug hockey players had left a definite mark on his psyche. He could tell that Kurt was feeling out of his element, since he'd never witnessed him so reserved and quiet. It almost made him want to do something that was so annoying that Kurt wouldn't be able to tamp down his snarky response. Almost.

Blaine had almost gaped in surprise earlier in the day when he'd answered his door to find Kurt dressed in sedate jeans and a loose fitting sweatshirt. He hadn't even known Kurt owned such casual items. Kurt had noted his surprise and mournfully lamented the fact that he was appearing in public in clothes that he normally would never consider wearing outside of the comforts of his own house.

They'd piled into the car quickly, Blaine and Cooper squabbling over who got to ride shotgun as Kurt just shook his head in dismay at their actions. It was only Kurt's second time meeting Cooper and Blaine was happy to see that Kurt's famous person crush seemed to be turning into an exasperated fondness. Humble wasn't exactly a word that applied to the elder Anderson brother and having anyone in the vicinity who fangirled (or fanboyed, as the case may be) over him sent his ego soaring to new heights. Cooper would have been intolerable if Kurt had kept sending him the awed glances of their first meeting.

"I don't want to perpetuate a stereotype or anything, but I assume you're not a big sports fan, Kurt? Other than figure skating, of course," Cooper laughed when Kurt pulled up short with a look of distaste on his face in order to avoid being run into by a pair of twenty-something guys who seemed to have gotten a head start on their drinking.

"My dad dragged me to a few football games when I was younger before he finally gave up in despair. He said he didn't want to try and force me into being something that I wasn't, but I think he just got tired of the side-eyeing he got from the people around us when I pulled out the latest issue of Vogue about 5 minutes into the game." Blaine tilted his head to the side and eyed Kurt's pockets. "No, I didn't bring anything with me tonight. You're just lucky I've already read this month's issue."

As they passed several stalls selling all manner of heart attack inducing plates of grease and fat, Blaine and Cooper began to debate what they were going to buy for dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine could see the expression of horror on Kurt's face grow as the list of potential purchases grew from beer, nachos, pizza, and garlic fries to include deep fried Twinkies, ice cream cookie sandwiches, and popcorn. Kurt reached up and delicately touched his face, as if fearful that the grease just hanging in the air had already affected his pores.

They got into line at the next stand and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as he told Cooper to go ahead and order for him as well. Cooper whooped at the unexpected power and turned to the girl behind the counter with a broad grin. Within minutes Kurt's arms were filled with a burger, fries, beer, and popcorn and Blaine bit back a smile at his dazed expression as they made their way to their seats, which were located directly behind the Canucks' bench.

"So, Kurt," Cooper asked as he peeled back the wrapper on his burger, "what do you love most about skating? What fuels the fire, what steers the ship that is Kurt Hummel?"

Blaine slipped his beer into the cup holder beside him, only looking up when it became evident that no answer was forthcoming. He looked over to find Kurt frozen in the middle of dipping a French fry in ketchup.

"I-I…I'm not sure…" Kurt stumbled over his response, then ground to a halt again.

"Oops," Cooper gasped dramatically as he waved a hand back-and-forth across Kurt's blank face. "I think I broke him. Sorry, I didn't think that was going to be such a toughie. OK, new subject." He glanced up towards the ceiling for a second before shooting a sly look in Blaine's direction. "Just how much tail can Blaine expect to get from being a skater? I mean, I don't know how it could possibly equal the levels of action he got out of the hockey puck bunnies —who would have imagined that there would be so many men-seeking-men hockey fans out there, huh? —but figure skating seems like it's more geared to your guys', shall we say, target audience."

"Cooper, you do know how creepy and wrong it is for you to be so interested in my sex life, right?" Blaine helped himself to one of Cooper's onion rings, ignoring his bleat of protest at the theft.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for my baby brother. Groupies are one of the perks of being a famous and you shouldn't miss out just because the ladies aren't your thing. Right, Kurt?" Cooper jabbed an elbow in Kurt's direction, a looking for some support.

Blaine groaned and swiped another onion ring, while Kurt just stammered something that sound like a half-hearted agreement.

Cooper must have gotten the hint that neither Kurt nor Blaine wanted to pursue that topic, since he huffed deeply and tried again. "Fine. Boring talk only. So Kurt, is the Olympics the end of the road? I mean, as an actor I know that the roles of the mentor, the wise sage, and the crotchety old man with a heart of gold await me when my days as the stunning leading man are over, but what does the future hold for figure skaters?"

Kurt delicately nibbled on a fry as he considered Cooper's question. "Skating careers definitely aren't long lived. There's only so long that the body can withstand the impact of the jumps and there seems to be an unending line of new skaters who are able to do things that everyone thought was impossible just the year before. I heard that this year there are two single skaters who are going to try a quintuple jump. Skating now is more about the jumps and big elements than about the artistry, so careers are getting shorter all the time."

"It takes a lot to skate at an Olympic level, so for most skaters it's a one-time trip. Usually those that stay around another four years were really young the first time around or feel like they need to make another run at it to be satisfied." Kurt lifted his hand to indicate that he was in that group. "There are some options for skaters after they retire from competition. There's quite the circuit of professional skating shows —"

"Ah squirt, you'd look sooo cute as that tea cup from Beauty and the Beast," Cooper cooed as he bumped his shoulder against Blaine's. "All the ladies will just want to pinch your cheeks. Both sets."

Kurt swallowed a laugh and played with the straw of his soda. "I see him more as a Prince Eric or an Aladdin, actually." Blaine grinned like a madman at the compliment and Kurt blushed a little when he saw his reaction. "There are a lot of those types of shows, but I was thinking more along the lines of Stars on Ice, where top skaters perform as themselves, not as costumed Disney characters. Of course, a lot of skaters go on to become choreographers or coaches as another way to stay in the sport. A lot just retire and move onto something else though. A normal life."

"So have you given any thoughts to what you want to do?" Blaine asked. "No offense, but I'm not sure I can picture you as a coach."

The comment caused Kurt to inhale air along with his sip of soda and he immediately started hiccupping. "Uh..hic…no. I think the whole…hic…world would agree with you on that one…hic."

"So what then? You'll want to stay in skating, right? Choreography?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly and Blaine could tell he had struck a nerve. "We've still got…hic…two and a half years until the next Olympics, so I'm just going to focus on that for now, thank you."

Blaine wanted to push some more on the subject, but at that moment the skaters hit the ice for their pre-game warm-up. He and Cooper immediately began comparing the stats of some of the Canucks players, watching intently as they took their practice shots. When the warm-up was over, the Columbus mascot appeared in the stands to the delight of some of the younger people in the crowd.

"That's Stinger, the Blue Jacket's mascot," Blaine explained as they watched a seemingly 7 foot tall, green bug dance his way up a set of steps. "It's too bad we're not in Vancouver. The Canucks' mascot is so much better." Kurt looked at him skeptically. "Seriously, Fin's the best."

"Finn?"

"Fin, the orca whale." Blaine pulled out his phone and flipped through a couple of screens before passing it to Kurt.

Kurt looked down at the photo of a laughing Blaine with his head half in the open, toothy mouth of a tall, furry orca whale. "Santana would approve of the name. I'll have to send her…" He stopped suddenly and handed Blaine back his phone.

"Who's Santana?" Cooper wondered as he crumpled up his food wrappers and dropped them at his feet.

"My old partner," Kurt replied nonchalantly. "Her new partner's name is 'Finn' and she's always making these horrible comments about his weight, so…"

Blaine took pity on him and suggested that they make another food run before the game got going. Kurt shook his head and held up his still only half eaten hamburger. He waved them off to do their foraging, saying that he was happy to sit and crowd watch.

They returned just before the teams were introduced and Blaine yelled loudly as his former teammates took the ice. As they piled into the bench, several players spotted him and rushed over to the glass just before the buzzer sounded, extracting a promise from him to visit them after the game. Blaine sat down and leaned forward in his seat, his pulse pounding as the game began.

=^..^=

The game went by surprisingly fast. Kurt didn't understand what was going on half the time and spent most of the first period mentally creating new outfits for both the players and the officials, but he had to admit that he got caught up in the excitement of the crowd each time a goal was scored. He and Cooper had even taken to cheering even louder when Columbus scored, just to make Blaine mad.

During the first break between periods, they scrambled for free t-shirts that were bring dropped from a remote-controlled blimp and cheered on the race car of their choosing on the jumbo screen that hovered over the middle of the ice as the Zamboni did its job. Kurt might have gloated a bit when the car he was rooting for won.

When play resumed, the mood on the ice shifted and there seemed to be more time spent fighting and posturing than actually playing the game. Kurt wasn't ever one for violence and found that he had to look away during a particularly bad fight that ended in a split lip and blood being spilled. He could tell from Blaine's expression that it was nothing to worry about, but it was still hard to watch.

The more he saw of the game, the harder it became to imagine Blaine out there, fighting and clawing his way forward, all attention focused on getting a little disc of rubber into a net. The Blaine he knew was an entertainer, an often times gregarious showman who glowed as if lit up from inside. It was difficult to reconcile that image with the sweaty, grunting men out on the ice. He wondered if Blaine was just one of those people with the ability to fit in where ever he was or if he'd been forcing himself into a role in order to please others. He'd mentioned how playing hockey had been one of the few things he could talk to his father about. Had he molded himself into something that he wasn't in order to maintain that bond? Or maybe it was the Blaine he knew that was forced. After all, figure skating wasn't something he'd come to on his own. Maybe it was simply a means to an end; the only way he could partially fulfill the Olympic dreams he'd spent his whole life dreaming.

Kurt knew all about pushing on to achieve a dream that seemed out of reach.

When the buzzer blew indicating the end of the second period, a few fans approached Blaine looking for an autograph. It'd been a year and a half since his career ended, but he'd been a popular player and people still remembered him. Word seemed to spread and soon Blaine was surrounded by twenty or so people. He laughed and joked with the fans, joined by Cooper, who told some funny anecdotes and signed some autographs himself. Blaine looked so happy that Kurt felt a pang of sorrow for his loss. This must have been what his whole life had been like before Sochi — the roar of the crowd, the support of his teammates, the adoration of the fans.

Kurt hunched down a little in his seat. He knew he was unlikely to be recognized in such a crowd, but he didn't feel like taking the risk. He envied the ease with which Blaine handled his fame. Kurt himself had always felt awkward when approached by fans. He never knew what to say and usually tried to get away as quickly as possible, afraid that he would do or say something stupid and get yet another negative video about him uploaded onto youtube.

The fans dispersed as the third period began. The game was tight and both teams seemed determined to be the next to score. Then, with only minutes left on the clock, one of the Canucks players took a vicious hit that sent him careening across the ice on his back. The referees made some kind of motion and one of the Columbus players skated over to the penalty box as the crowd booed, but Kurt only had eyes for Blaine. He'd seen the recording of the hit that had ended Blaine's career and the scene before him looked eerily similar.

Blaine was leaning forward with an intent look on his face, his entire being focused on the player who was still lying still on the ice. As people ran out to check on him, Kurt reached out tentatively and took Blaine's hand in his. He was unsure of how such a gesture would be received, so he was relieved when Blaine squeezed his hand tightly and pulled it in towards his chest. They watched in silence as the player was evaluated and cheered along with everyone else when he was helped to his feet. He gave the crowd a wave to indicate that he was ok and Kurt felt the tension dissolve out of Blaine's body. Their hands remained clasped together tightly, though, and it wasn't until at least a minute later than Blaine seemed to realize it. He let go with a smile and silently mouthed a 'thank you'.

The Canucks won the game and Kurt soon found himself standing at the security check-point that led to the locker areas. Someone must have put Blaine's name on the list, because they were ushered inside without delay. Kurt quickly averted his eyes as soon as they entered the locker room, the lessons learned from his short time in public high school still etched into his brain. Men in locker rooms did not usually appreciate having a gay guy around.

There was a loud commotion as Blaine's former teammates welcomed him with open arms. There were chest bumps and ass slaps and general macho rituals that were foreign to Kurt despite his years of competition. Figure skating just wasn't a chest bumping sort of sport.

Because he was hanging back, trying to keep out of the way, Kurt noticed a few players who remained at their lockers instead of approaching Blaine. He definitely saw some dirty looks and snickers from them, so he turned his back, determined to not let them ruin the evening.

=^..^=

Blaine cheered along with his friends when a new round of beers was delivered by one of the waitresses covering the VIP section of the local sports bar that the Canucks had retired to after the game. He'd half-heartedly declined their initial invitation to join them, knowing that Kurt probably wouldn't be into it at all and worrying that Cooper would be too into it, but Kurt had pulled him aside and convinced him that he should take the opportunity to spend more time with his old friends.

He looked around for Kurt and found him perched on a round swivel stool at the bar, sipping a soda due to his role as designated driver. Cooper was sitting next to him, flirting madly with a nearby waitress. Blaine had tried a few times to get Kurt to join in with the group, but he'd just gently pushed him away and told him to go have fun.

Finally, about an hour later, things wound down and Blaine said his goodbyes before they headed back towards the car.

"Kurt, you should have joined us." Blaine put his hands on the top of a sign and lifted himself up in the air with a kick of his feet. "The guys wanted to talk to you, hear all about our skating."

"Maybe some of them did," Kurt muttered as he searched his pockets for the keys.

Blaine turned to look at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Kurt shook his head and finally located the missing keys in his jacket pocket. "Never mind."

"No, tell me."

"It's nothing. Just one of the guys made it obvious that he didn't want 'my kind' there. No big deal."

Blaine stopped dead in the middle of the parking lot. "What? Who? What did he say?"

"Nothing I haven't heard a thousand times before. Let's go." Kurt sighed heavily and put his hand on Blaine's back to try and nudge him on.

"No, we have to go back. We can't let him get away with —"

The lid Kurt was keeping on his emotions slipped a little. "Blaine, I know you've lived in a nice, safe, little fairy tale your whole life, but I've lived in the real world. I couldn't exactly hide who I am and with being a figure skater on top of that? I might as well have painted a target on my back. You don't know what it's been like, so just drop it."

A hollowness spread throughout Blaine's chest. "Not my whole life," he said so quietly that Kurt turned towards him with a questioning look.

"What?"

Blaine took a deep breath and leaned against the side of the car. "The guy that checked me? That ended my career? He did it on purpose. He evidently didn't like the idea of a gay guy playing the manly sport of hockey and had told his teammates that he was going to go after me to 'teach me a lesson'. The Olympic committee found out during their investigation, but they wanted to keep it quiet and I'll admit that I didn't want to become the nation's poster boy for gay bashing in sports, so I went along with it."

Cooper came up beside him and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a quick hug. His movement was casual, but Blaine could feel his lingering anger at the situation just beneath the surface.

Kurt's eyes turned soft in sympathy. "Blaine, I-I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I know. And I didn't tell you to make you feel bad or to make you feel sorry for me. I just…I wanted you to know that you aren't alone. That I understand."

Kurt held out his hand tentatively and Blaine reached out to grab it, knowing what it cost him to make such a gesture. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I really wish you didn't."

Blaine wished he didn't either.