Blaine couldn't believe how quickly Kurt was becoming the center of his life. He could feel himself opening up and showing the more outgoing side he'd found at boarding school. It was like he'd been a prisoner chained up in a dungeon and was now free and experiencing life again.

He hadn't said anything to Kurt about his growing feelings, but he was pretty sure they were right there on his face for everyone to see. He'd been told more than once when he was younger that he was transparently expressive, which had been one reason why he'd developed the charming, confident mask he'd worn in Columbus and brought with him to New York. That mask no longer existed, though, having been smashed to pieces by the force of nature that was Kurt Hummel.

Yeah, all-in-all he was pretty sure his heart-eyes could be seen from space.

As his happiness grew, so did his willingness to indulge in the goofy, nerdy side of himself. He'd confessed his up-until-then secret love of superheroes to Kurt one evening as they watched the latest Marvel movie. When Kurt had responded that he too liked the movies, Blaine could see that he didn't really quite get it, so he'd gone into his room and returned with the Robert Downey, Jr. and Joss Whedon autographed Ironman helmet he'd gotten off of eBay. Kurt had made an astonished "ohhh" face and then sheepishly confessed that he'd had a shrine to Kate and Pippa Middleton in his bedroom in high school.

After that, Blaine decided to let his dorky flag fly. He was a little worried at first that telling Kurt of his unusually strong love for the songs of musical divas, his secret longing to be James Bond, and his growing obsession with collecting bow ties (which he actually blamed Kurt for, at least in part, because he was such an enabler) in such a short amount of time would make Kurt question if he'd ever matured out of being a teenager, but Kurt had matched him quirk-for-quirk.

It wasn't just the silly stuff that Blaine opened up about, though. He also started to let Kurt see the damaged sides of himself. He invited Kurt to go to the gym with him one day and showed him how he'd learned to box in an attempt to feel some control in his life. They commiserated about childhood traumas and teenage disappointments. They shared their adult fears and insecurities. They talked about hopes for the future.

The rehearsals for Tommy went from late morning to early evening, so they were still able to meet for their normal coffee dates, though they had to do some rearranging of the rest of their plans. Kurt had greatly reduced his hours at the clothing store in order to free up the time needed for the musical, so he had many nights free and spent most of them with Blaine, either at one of their apartments or sitting in the audience at the club on nights that Blaine worked.

Blaine was surprised that Kurt wanted to come to the club so often, imagining that after so many hours in rehearsal he'd be anxious to be anywhere except in another theater, but Kurt said he loved being surrounded by all the music and dancing knowing that he could just sit back and enjoy.

The stress that Kurt had been feeling over his father's health was lighter as of late. He'd spoken with his dad after the day in the park and gotten him to confess that, while his last doctor visit hadn't been as good as he'd been hoping for, he was in no immediate danger. The doctor wanted him to do some more tests, but there was no cause for concern. Kurt had chastened him for keeping information from him and had barely been talked out of going home for the tests.

In between rehearsals, spending time with Blaine, and talking with his father almost nightly to check on him, Kurt didn't have much time for anything else. He told Blaine he was feeling slightly guilty over how he'd been neglecting his other friends since he and Blaine had starting dating, but that they all understood, for the most part. Blaine knew he had several close friends in town, including at least two that he'd known since high school, but he'd only met one girl who Kurt worked with and a couple whom he'd met in college. Kurt didn't seem to be in a hurry to introduce him to the others and Blaine wasn't about to push. He was happy with the way things were and each new person he met made him feel like he was playing another round of "will they recognize me" Russian Roulette.

It was better that it remain just the two of them, at least for the time being.

=^..^=

Kurt was at an extra-long rehearsal that wouldn't let out for another two hours, so with nothing better to do, Blaine flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote to search for something on TV. Infomercial, ancient syndicated sitcom that hadn't been funny the first time around, trashy talk show— ugh, late afternoon television was so bad. He pushed the button a few more times, determined to find an acceptable distraction. Judge Judy, talking heads arguing about the latest political scandal, financial scandal news show...wait.

His mind was screaming "no, no, no", but Blaine couldn't seem to make his finger listen. He pressed the down channel button, returning the TV to CNN, where the banner across the bottom of the screen burned itself into his brain.

Winter comes to the Heartland: The Richard Anderson Scandal

Like a commuter rubbernecking as they passed an accident on the highway, Blaine couldn't look away. The show began with the narrator solemnly giving the background on Winterland and Richard Anderson's rise in the financial world. Over the next 30 minutes, it went into detail about the collapse of the Winterland Ponzi scheme and the discovery of the extent fraud before covering Richard's arrest, trial, and subsequent disappearance. Law enforcement officials, analysts, former co-workers, and even a couple of Richard's old friends appeared to give their theories on where he might have escaped to. They agreed on very little except that they were sure it was somewhere without an extradition policy.

Blaine watched with bated breath, but thankfully the show focused mainly on his father. The family was barely mentioned, except to say that they'd been cleared of any involvement and the only photo that featured Blaine showed him only from the back.

The show was an unwelcome reminder of his previous life, but it didn't contain any shocking revelations or new information, so Blaine counted himself lucky. He was about to turn the TV off, when the program returned from commercial break, this time turning its focus on the victims. Blaine was ashamed to admit it, but he'd avoided learning too much about the destruction his father had caused. He knew the big things, of course — the astronomical amount of money lost, the number of investors who'd been affected — but he'd tried not to learn any of the personal stories. Dealing with his own family had been almost more than he could handle.

But now there they were— real live people, telling their stories — and he couldn't look away. For half an hour, he sat and listened to the accounts of lives ruined, told by people whose voices dripped with hatred for his father as they cursed the Anderson name.

As the end credits began to role, Blaine finally reached over and turned the TV off, the angry, condemning words echoing in his ears. He looked at the clock, willing the time to move faster. He and Kurt were planning on going to a nightclub that evening and suddenly he couldn't wait to lose himself in the music and hopefully a large quantity of alcohol.

=^..^=

The room was spinning and swirling around him in time with the strobe light that pulsed above the nearby dance floor.

It was awesome.

Blaine drained the last drop from his microbrew beer bottle and set it back on the bar with a clunk. God, it was so amazing that people made beer. Not big corporations like Budweiser (oh, the Clydesdales were so amazing. So majestic and proud and tall and...horse-like. Those commercials always made him cry), but people, with their family recipes and farm grown hops. He wanted to be a microbrewer. Maybe he'd buy a small brewery and set up an adjoining bar where they'd serve the best food alongside his beer. He'd sing and entertain and teach people how to make their own beer and maybe Kurt would come along and help. That would be so amazing.

He felt Kurt come up beside him and he leaned in close to tell him his idea. "Brew with me."

"Excuse me?" Kurt said with a laugh, his hand coming up to rub Blaine's back. He loved when Kurt did that. It always made him feel so warm and safe.

"I'm gonna buy a brewery and make beer and sing and entertain people and it'll be awesome. Come brew with me."

"What does buying a brewery have to do with singing?"

Poor Kurt, he just didn't have a mind for business. "We'll sell more beer if we keep the crowds entertained," Blaine said with just a hint of "duh" in his voice. "I wonder if hops grow better if you sing to them? You know, like when you talk to plants? We should experiment with that. I wonder what kind of music they like best? I bet it's country." He felt a little sad at the thought. "Oh well, I can make that work."

"So we're going to be farmers, too?"

"Mmm. We'll be the first all-singing, all-dancing farmer-brewers. We'll be famous and they'll eventually write a Broadway musical about us. Which you can star in."

"Okaaay." Kurt glanced at the bar, eyeing Blaine's empty bottle. "How many of these—"

"Kurt! I love this song." Blaine began to boogie away as the new music filled the room. "Come dance with me."

"I was just going to order a drink..." Kurt was walking with Blaine, but glancing back towards the bartender, who was just finishing up with his last customer.

Blaine reached the edge of the dance floor and began to move his hips back-and-forth, glancing back over his shoulder at Kurt, trying to pull him in by employing industrial strength puppy dog eyes and a come hither pout.

"Fine," Kurt sighed, sidling up to Blaine as he began to shimmy in the by-now-familiar way that Blaine found incredibly irresistible.

Blaine wasn't drunk. Nope, not at all. He'd only had one...two beers. Three at the most. He wasn't drunk, but he was pleasantly relaxed and just buzzed enough to be able to push his troubles to the far corner of his mind. Yes, four beers was exactly the perfect amount to drink if he just wanted to have fun without embarrassing himself.

He pulled Kurt closer as they got swallowed up by the crowd. Dancing was his favorite. Wait, no Kurt was his favorite. Wait, no dancing with Kurt was his favorite.

He turned his head and snuggled his face into the warm spot where Kurt's neck met his shoulder. Kurt was the perfect height for this. Kurt was perfect. Kurt—

Blaine pulled back as he felt a sharp tug on his chest. One of his chest hairs that had been poking through the open neck of his shirt had been caught in one of the many zippers on Kurt's jacket. Kurt's clothes were not perfect. They were perfect looking, but they seemed to have an evil agenda all their own of thwarting Blaine's amorous attentions. Thwarting. That was an amazing word. He should use that more often. Thwarting.

He shook his head, losing his balance for just a second before righting himself and returning to glare at the offending zipper again. All of the pins and buttons and snaps and layers of Kurt's clothes were a constant frustration when all Blaine wanted to do was get close to Kurt as quickly as possible. He almost wished that Kurt would dress more simply, with more pull-straight-over-the-top-of-the-head type of items, but if he did that, he wouldn't look like Kurt and that would make Blaine sad.

Someone bumped into Kurt from the side, jostling them and separating them a bit. Blaine threw his arms around Kurt's back in response and hugged him closer, hands splayed out to pull him in as close as humanly possible. "Please never not look like you. No matter how much quicker the sex would be. Promise."

Kurt exhaled against his ear, all warm and hot, and a familiar ache took up residence deep in the pit of Blaine's stomach.

"You are soooo drunk."

"Nahhh. I've only had five beers. That's nothing. And it was hours ago. Hours and hours. Besides, I never get drunk. It isn't becoming of a gentleman. My father always..." He stopped himself, not wanting to finish that thought, let alone speak it out loud.

Suddenly, the flashing lights of the dance floor weren't fun and distracting, they were just overly bright and blinding. The surge of the crowd wasn't exciting, it was stifling, the heat pressing in on Blaine until he couldn't breathe.

"Brandon?" Kurt asked, his face the picture of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Can we go?"

Kurt nodded swiftly and within minutes they were out on the sidewalk, the cool night air washing over Blaine's hot cheeks, sweeping away the heavy thoughts for the moment. Taxis were waiting to take away the club's departing customers, so they got in line. While they waited, Blaine's good humor returned and he began to eye a No Parking sign that was posted on a nearby pole, thinking it was just the right height that he might be able to jump over it.

He was just about to make his move when Kurt stopped him.

"No, no, no," Kurt laughed as he wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist. "I've seen way too many youtube videos where some guy gets emasculated by doing that and I happen to be very attached to that part of your anatomy."

"Yeah, you are," Blaine leered playfully, swaying a bit in Kurt's arms. "I wish you were attached to it right now, in fact."

Kurt pressed his lips together and smiled with tolerant amusement. "Why, you old romantic, you."

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine enthusiastically waved goodbye to the cab driver while Kurt waited for him patiently. They slowly made the climb to Blaine's apartment and Kurt unlocked the door. Blaine's smile grew as Kurt pressed hands to his shoulders and walked him backwards into his bedroom. His knees hit the mattress and he collapsed down onto it, his arms outstretched, waiting for Kurt to join him. He couldn't contain his moan of disappointment when Kurt shot him an "are you kidding?" look and turned towards the bathroom.

Blaine could hear the sounds of Kurt getting ready for bed — and not the good, sexy kind of getting ready — so he got rid of his shoes and stripped off his jeans and shirt. He could already feel himself sobering up. Why was that a thing that was happening?

He was burrowed completely down under the covers when he felt Kurt slip in beside him.

"Brandon, you've been kind of off all night," Kurt said softly, a hand coming to rest on Blaine's covered head. "Is something wrong?"

Brandon. Brandon. Brandon. The sound of his fake name echoed in Blaine's ears until he couldn't take it anymore. He broke.

"My name's not Brandon."

He felt Kurt tense up beside him. "What?"

Blaine sat up, pulling the blanket with him around him like a burrito, leaving only his face exposed to the light. "I lied to you. My name's not Brandon. It's Blaine."

Everything came spilling out once the floodgates were opened. He told Kurt about his father, the trial, and his decision to start a new life in New York. He talked about growing up in his stifling family with an intolerant father and a mentally absent mother. He talked and he talked, noticing only after the fact that Kurt had pulled him into his arms at some point, his chin resting on Blaine's shoulder.

Finally, everything was out in the open and Blaine felt fatigue overtake every muscle in his body. "Things will be going well. I'll be finally feeling like everything will be okay, and then something will happen, some reminder that brings me back to earth. Sometimes I feel like I should just stand up and apologize to everyone I see, like I'm a bad person just through association."

Kurt, who'd been listening quietly up until that point, tightened his hand on Blaine's back and shook his head violently. "You are not now and never have been a bad person."

"Please don't hate me," Blaine rushed on, barely even registering Kurt's response. "I love you so much that I couldn't stand it if you hated me."

There was a rustling noise as Kurt swung himself around, his hands resting on his folded knees as he looked at Blaine earnestly. "Nothing you told me tonight changes how I feel about you. I-I love you too and it's because of who you are inside, so no made-up name or family drama — no matter how big — is going to change that."

Blaine had been so worried about Kurt's reaction that he hadn't even realized that he'd let the L-word slip out, but when he heard Kurt say it back it finally dawned on him. "You love me?" he asked with tears brimming in his eyes.

Kurt tilted forward and Blaine felt him wrap a hand around his neck, drawing him forward. "I do." Kurt kissed him softly on the lips. "I definitely do."

Their lips met again and Blaine let himself sink fully against Kurt, their weights helping hold each other up as their brains became occupied with far more important matters.

It was the first time he'd ever said "I love you." He'd never even come close before, to the words or the emotion itself. He'd always wondered when — or if — it would ever find him and never in a million years would he have imagined it would come in the form of a Broadway-bound fashionista with a heavenly voice and a soul as beautiful as his outside. Blaine counted his blessings that the exchange hadn't come sooner. The fact that he'd declared his love as Blaine and not as Brandon and that Kurt had known the truth about his past first made sure the moment wasn't tainted by any uncertainty or doubt.

Kurt sank down to sit against the headboard and tugged Blaine to him, cuddling him against his chest. Blaine closed his eyes in contentment when he felt fingers begin to card through his hair.

"So, Richard Anderson's your father, huh?" Kurt asked lightly, never stopping the soothing motion. "Do you think your grandparents knew how on the nose they were when they gave him a name that has the nickname of 'Dick'?"

Blaine couldn't stop the bark of laughter that escaped him. He didn't know how Kurt did it, but somehow he always made everything better.

"Should I call you 'Blaine' now? At least in private?"

Blaine longed to say yes, but held himself back. "You should probably stick to Brandon. It might be too hard to remember to do it only when we're alone."

"All right." Kurt pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Whatever you want."

"Could you say it one more time, though? Just this once?"

"Blaine. I love you."

"I love you, too, Kurt."

=^..^=

Kurt's opening night was fast approaching, so he'd decided to take advantage of a three day break in rehearsals to fly back home to see his dad.

Blaine had been wanting to ask more about Kurt's family and background, but he a little strange asking so closely to his own confessions, not wanting to turn it into a "I showed you mine, now you show me yours" kind of situation. He figured that everything would eventually come out naturally through the course of late night talks.

Kurt had been gone for only a little more than a day when Blaine began to feel lonely. It was funny how quickly he'd gotten used to always having someone around and, even though he knew it was kind of shallow, he was missing the attention. He prowled around the empty apartment for a while before deciding to go down to the local bar for a quick drink.

He grabbed a seat at the bar and was nursing a beer and having a lively debate with the bartender over the merits of singer-songwriters versus singers who didn't perform their own material when he saw Sebastian striding in the front door like he owned the place. With only a cursory glance around the room, Sebastian made a beeline for Blaine, dropping down onto the stool next to him.

"I don't know how you can drink that swill when there's top shelf liquor available."

"Sebastian, how's it going?" Blaine asked politely.

"Never better. I'm surprised to see you here alone. Kurt usually has you on a very short leash."

Blaine bristled at his familiar smirk. "He's out of town for a few days."

"Well, if that isn't the best news I've heard all week," Sebastian oozed. "Want to take this little party to my place and see what kind of trouble we can get into?" He lifted his hands up high in the air with a laugh at the unhappy look Blaine shot him. "Sorry. We can stay here. I'll be good, I promise. Just have a drink with me."

Blaine hesitated, then nodded warily. Sebastian was cocky and kind of annoying, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if it wasn't the person he wanted it to be.

=^..^=

The local financial advisor finished her presentation and was met with polite, if unenthusiastic applause. Her advice was probably very sound, but everyone in the room had been burned too badly by Winterland to put much trust in someone coming in and telling them what they should do with what was left of their money.

Sensing that she wasn't going to be getting a lot of new clients that day, the woman packed up her computer and briefcase and left, leaving the group behind to talk about more shady matters.

"How's it going with the Anderson kid?"

"We hope to have information on what he might know soon."

"I thought the plan you'd set up with your son didn't work out?"

"It didn't. The initial idea was for him to get close to Blaine, maybe strike up a romantic relationship with him in order to gain his trust, but Sebastian screwed up and lost his chance. Luckily, though, things still worked out and we have someone in place who will be able to get us whatever information we want." Mr. Smythe looked up at a man standing quietly in the back of the room and gave him what many people considered to be the patented Symthe family smirk. "It's funny how fate sometimes steps in...isn't it, Kurt?"