Kurt trudges backstage after his performance. Work had been absolute hell today, and he really wasn’t in the mood to do a personal. He smells like sweat, his body feels tainted from all of the men who tried to touch him while he was on stage, and his hair still sports flecks of glitter that one of the other dancers blew on him.�

He walks into the dressing room, throwing his feather boa at his vanity with a sour face.�

He doesn’t even remember when he made the decision to become an exotic dancer (he refuses to call it the other thing because, hey, he has to have at least some dignity for himself) all he remembers is that he needed a job because living in New York is hard, and every place he applied to would refuse him because working part time for a mechanic wasn’t really something employers at Bloomingdale’s and Barney’s liked to read on a resume. So in an act of desperation Kurt had ended up outside the door to Posh, holding onto the strap of his bag nervously. The owner of the place, Shawn, had immediately taken a liking to Kurt. Not in that way. Kurt was young, fit, and looked like an angel.�

He offered Kurt a job right then and there, but Kurt had conditions. He wanted to be referred to as his stage name only. Nobody would know his real name. He didn’t want to be touched when he did personal dances. At all. It was a rule for the club but sometimes clients got handsy and Kurt was not risking it. And he didn’t want to have sex with anybody else; he was still very much faithful to Blaine no matter where he worked. Shawn had taken these demands into consideration and had agreed to Kurt’s immense surprise. When Kurt had asked why he had merely shrugged and said that he was too pretty to let go.�

He was rusty his first night, his palms were too sweaty, and he couldn’t get the proper footing on the pole, but it didn’t seem to matter to the horny clientele. All they wanted was a half naked man dancing on a pole, and that’s what Kurt did. He didn’t do a personal that night, and had fled the club as soon as his shift was over, crying into his pillow the entire night. It got easier as time went by, with the help of daily workouts and a pole training class given to him by a very helpful boy by the name of Glimmer, and at the end of his first month, Kurt was a pro, sliding up and down the pole with such ease that he himself was actually starting to enjoy it.�

Nobody knows what he does. Finn and Rachel are oblivious about the whole thing, and Kurt would have been offended if it wasn’t for the fact that he was working at a strip club. It was surprising how little time he spent with Rachel nowadays. She herself didn’t make it into NYADA and that had created a slight iciness between them. They still hung out when they weren’t busy with homework and Kurt with work, but they still didn’t hang out often enough.�

�He opted to rent an apartment by himself since Rachel wanted Finn to live with them and Kurt was not going to be the third wheel in their love party, getting reminded of how his own love wasn’t there to exchange sweet kisses in the morning and before school. With the help of his financial aid money Kurt managed to snag a nice little apartment close to NYADA. It didn’t have much leg room, but for one person it was fine, and there was a nice pull out couch his parents could sleep on when they visited, so it was a good apartment.�

Living by himself is the reason why Kurt managed to keep his secret for as long as he has. Nearly half a year. But just because he’s had this job for half a year and it pays pretty good doesn’t mean that Kurt likes it all that much. He always feels tired afterwards, his hair ends up a mess and filled with random glitter or confetti, drunk men try to pinch his ass constantly and touch him when he’s doing personals, and the entire place reeks of booze and tobacco. The only good thing about it is that Kurt’s managed to make some friends.�

He’s gets along most with the guys who share his dressing room, Ginger, a tall red head that can climb his way up a pole. Flower, a short, blonde with red and pink streaks in his shaggy hair and a large, colorful bouquet of flowers tattooed on his ribs and small flowers scattered on his body, Glimmer, the bubbly blond who taught Kurt how to pole dance, that seemed to have his blond hair and body covered in a different color of glitter every night therefore earning him the nickname Glimmer, and Nova, a brunette boy, with star tattoos going down his ribs and his back. �

There are a few girls working here, most of them waitresses, and the three lone girl dancers, Delilah, Goldie, and Ruby, for those straight men that get dragged here by their gay friends. The girls are friendly, and seemed to have fawned over Kurt when he got here. If Kurt liked his job he would have been happy here. But the employees keep him laughing on most days.�

Nova makes his way into the dressing room, placing his headpiece on his own vanity before next to Kurt’s before turning to the other boy with a serious face.�

“You alright, Porcelain?” he asks.�

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I told you not to lie to me, sugar,” Nova says, and Kurt sighs deeply, grabbing his hairspray to fix his hair before he heads to his personal.�

“I’m just not in the mood today, Nova,” Kurt says, hoping that Nova drops the subject.�

He doesn’t because he never drops the subject. That’s one of the many annoying things about Nova. He has a tendency of caring about the dancers too much.�

“You miss your boyfriend?” �he asks, and Kurt looks at him through the mirror, his eyes filling up with tears.�

“I always miss him,” he murmurs, not sure that Nova heard him through the bass of the music outside. When he started making friends he got comfortable enough to tell them that he was only doing this to save enough money to see Blaine whenever he wanted to, and the boys and all cooed, falling in love with Blaine the more and more Kurt told them about him. They all sympathize with Kurt and are always there to listen when he wants to talk about him.�

“But you miss him especially tonight.”

“Tonight it hit me that I work here, and let guys ogle at me for money. I…he would be so ashamed of me,” Kurt whimpers, hanging his head, and Nova is at his side in an instant, taking Kurt into his arms.�

“Hey, no, stop that. Just because you work here doesn’t mean that he would be ashamed of you. You’re stuck in a rut, Porcelain, and there’s nothing you can do. All you have to do is make the best out of a bad situation.”

“But I feel so dirty all the time,” Kurt whines, a stray tear sliding down his cheek. “I get home every night and I scrub and scrub at my body and I still feel so filthy.”

“You don’t even let the men touch you, sugar,” Nova says, taking the can of hairspray out of his hands and spraying some onto his hair, using his fingers to style it the way Kurt likes. “You’re better than all of us.”

“No, I’m not,” Kurt whispers. He feels like a piece of scum. If only his dad could see him now. See how far he’s fallen down. He would be so disappointed.�

“Yes, you are. You’re actually going to school. You’re only here temporarily. I dropped out of school and I’m probably going to be working here until I’m deemed too old and get kicked out on the street. You have a future. This job is short-term. You don’t have to feel so bad for yourself. You don’t let men touch you, in any way. You’re better than most of us,” Nova says, taking Kurt’s face in his hands. His eyes go slightly cold, and Kurt knows that he’s thinking about it, and that in turn makes Kurt feel worse.�

Nova ran away from home when he was seventeen after being kicked out of his house by his parents. Being gay didn’t fly in Kansas. He’s a high school dropout and was certainly destined to do this for the long run. It’s such a sad story. Kurt tells him he has potential, he’s so smart he can go back to school; get his diploma and go to college. But Nova tells him that it’s too late. He’s 23, it’s not too late.�

Nova likes to draw. All of the boys do something extraordinary. Glimmer can dance phenomenally, Ginger does beautiful make-up, Flower is a really good writer, and Nova can draw. Really, really well, actually. Whenever Kurt or any of the other boys has a bad day he always draws them a silly doodle to get them to smile. Kurt has hundreds of them because he comes into work every other day moping about Blaine and how he hates the way he’s going right now. Nova’s drawn him all sorts of things from him singing on Broadway to Blaine hugging him. Nova’s gotten really good at drawing Blaine.�

He’s revealed that his dream is to go to art school and be a cartoonist or something of that nature, and Kurt tells him that he can do it if he just tries, but Nova doesn’t listen. It’s a shame really. Judging from the various cartoons Nova’s drawn him Kurt can tell he’s really talented.�

“I-I’m sorry,” Kurt says, pulling away to wipe his eyes before grabbing his eyeliner to redo his eyes. “I…I know that I’ve got it easy, but I can’t help it. I…when I left Ohio I never imagined I’d be doing�this.”

“None of us did,” Nova says simply, turning to his own vanity. “But we all have to deal with it. The good thing is we can deal with it together.”

Kurt smiles lightly, looking into Nova’s bright brown eyes. “I’m really glad I met you, Nova.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, going back to reapplying his own make-up.�

Kurt is about to say something, but at that moment the door opens, and the other boys who share the fitting room come piling in, laughing loudly.�

“Oh my god, did you see the men during that number? They were practically salivating over us,” Ginger says, plopping down on the couch against the wall. “You okay, Porcelain? I saw you were kind of looking down after your number.”

Kurt ignores him, keeping his attention on redoing his makeup.

“Missing the boyfriend,” Nova explains, and the boys let out a collective�ahh�of understanding.

“Aww, don’t worry, honey, you’ll see him soon enough,” Flower says, giving Kurt a small smile. “Do you want a hug? I’ll give you a hug, mind you I’m really sweaty, but the hug will still mean as much as if I was powder dry.”

“No, I’m fine,” Kurt says, and the Flower frowns because he knows that Kurt is not fine.�

“Oh, he needs a hug, boys.” Flower leads the pack, rushing over to Kurt and engulfing him in a bone crushing hug, everybody clinging onto each other, the smell of sweat and perfume stinging Kurt’s nostrils. �

“Okay, okay, guys, you’re choking me and you all smell! Oh my god, get�off!” Kurt yells, trying to push the sweaty boys away, but they pull in tighter, someone, probably Glimmer, even goes as far as to ruffle Kurt’s hair.�

“Boys, come on, let Porcelain breathe,” Nova says, pulling everybody off. “He needed a hug not to be asphyxiated.”

“But the best remedy for sadness is cuddles!” Flower cries, and the boys nod in agreement.�

“You can cuddle when his shift is over,” Nova says firmly, and the boys all groan, going to their vanity’s to reapply their makeup and get ready for their own private dances while the other group of guys from the other dressing room go on stage to do their number. They’re nice guys, but Kurt doesn’t talk to them as much as these guys.�

“How many personals do you have tonight, Porcelain?” Glimmer asks nervously, knowing that this is a touchy subject for Kurt. He hates to talk about personals, hates to think about them actually, but there’s not much he can do when he’s in a room with a horny man who is trying really hard not to touch Kurt or blow his load. That has happened by the way. Once, Kurt got a guy who was mildly handsome, and that apparently gave him the right to touch Kurt. Kurt stood up quicker than he has before and slapped the man, but that seemed to turn the man on and the next thing Kurt knew a dark spot was forming on the front of his pants.�

Kurt didn’t do personals for a whole two weeks after that.�

“Just one. A Mr. Crest,” Kurt sighs, fixing his hair.�

“Mr. Crest? Who is he the owner of the toothpaste company?” Ginger laughs playfully, throwing a pillow to Glimmer.�

“Hey who knows, he can give you a big tip,” Flower suggests, waggling his eyebrows.�

“Maybe he’ll pay for my rent this month,” Kurt says bitterly, and Nova sends him a worried look.

“Do you need me to lend you money, sugar?” he asks, and Kurt shakes his head wildly.�

“No! No I can manage,” he assures them, but Nova isn’t fooled. He can’t manage actually. He knows he’s going to be short this month because he had to put some money into his Ohio savings therefore leaving him short a hundred bucks. And that usually meant more personals, or sex, but Kurt doesn’t do sex and he really hates personals.�

“Porcelain, you can’t manage, baby. Really, I don’t mind lending you some cash,” Nova says, reaching into his bag to grab his checkbook. Why he carries it with him, Kurt will never know.�

“But I can’t pay you back right now,” Kurt whispers, his cheeks flaming up as Nova writes.

“Honey, I don’t mind at all. You can pay me back whenever you can.” Nova hands the check over, and Kurt nearly drops it when he sees a thousand dollars neatly printed on there.�

“Nova! I can’t take this,” Kurt says, waving the check back, but Nova shakes his head.�

“You can and you will, I don’t mind. Really. Take it. I will solder it to your hand if I have to.”

“Ouch,” Ginger pipes up from her station. “Just take the money, Porcelain.”

“Take it!” the other boys yell, and Kurt huffs out frustratingly, shoving the check into his drawer.�

“You better not leave it in there,” Nova warns him.�

“I won’t.”�

He really can’t afford to leave it and forget about it. A thousand dollars would help him out so much, but he gets really embarrassed at the thought of having someone lend him money. That’s why he got this stupid job so he wouldn’t have to ask for money. Yes, he’s really good friends with these guys, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to ask them for money. It’s humiliating.�

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Nova reaches out, stroking Kurt’s face softly.�

“No, problem, now finish getting ready,” he gently instructs, turning to his own mirror.�

Kurt smiles softly, feeling embarrassed but grateful that he has such awesome friends. He brings two fingers up to his mouth and presses them to the smiling Blaine looking up at him from the vanity.�

“I’m going to see you soon. Real soon, okay?” he whispers, but apparently being a stripper means that you have supersonic hearing and Kurt feels four pairs of eyes looking at him, all he needs now is the coo.�

“Aww, he’s talking to his picture. Goddamn, Porcelain, you are the cutest fucking thing ever,” Glimmer cries, and Kurt throws one of the pillows at him.

“Shut up, you have no idea. I can go visit him early now. Ugh, thank you, Nova!” Kurt stands and throws his arms around Nova, hugging him tightly.�

“Don’t mention it, sugar.”

A quiet knock at the door rouses the boys and Shawn pokes his head in, looking around the room of half naked boys.�

“Hey, Porcelain, your personal is waiting for you,” he informs, and Kurt sighs, pulling away from Nova to add the finishing touches to his face. He adjusts the leather vest and fixes his shorts before turning to the boys, who are all giving him encouraging looks.�

“Just think about how you’re going to visit your Blainey-wainey and time will zoom by,” Flower yells, and Kurt smiles widely.�

“There you go!”

Kurt walks out onto the floor, giving the boys a flirty smile before heading over to the private booths, smiling at the bouncer, who gives him a sympathetic smile in return. Kurt takes a deep breath before pulling the curtain back, his eyes roaming over the new guy, sitting on the purple suede couch, his fingers tapping on the arm nervously.�

He looks like he’s in his early to mid twenties, has light brown hair, blue eyes. He looks nervous, like he’s a first timer. Kurt’s seen many first timers before. They were usually the easiest to work with because they were so nervous and were so eager to follow the rules afraid that they would get kicked out if they so much as lift a finger.�

“Hi there,” Kurt says in a sultry voice, thankful that his voice doesn’t shake. He’s supposed to be this confident person in here, but really he feels like the smallest man in the world. “First time?”

The man nods, his hands shaking. And Kurt feels bad for him. He must have been dragged here by his friends who were probably trying to get him laid. Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Kurt is just here to dance.�

“What’s your name?”�

“Eric,” the boy squeaks out, his blue eyes darting around the room nervously. “Uhm, I…I don’t really know what to do here. My friends made me do this. You know 21st birthday and all that.”

Bingo. Kurt knew he was dragged here.�

“Porcelain. Don’t worry, honey. I won’t hurt you,” Kurt says, smiling at the boy. He grabs the remote from the small circular table by the door and turns the music on, the thudding base overtaking the small area.�

“You know the rules?”

“Uhhh, yeah?” Eric says uncertainly, and Kurt chuckles, taking a step forward.�

“You don’t touch me. At all. �No kissing, no grinding. Nothing.”

“Is that it?”

“Pretty much.”�

“Okay.”

Kurt throws the on the table before moving towards the pole in the center of the room, swaying his hips the way Glimmer taught him. He takes a hold of the pole and begins the same tedious routine he does for every single person that sits on that couch. He moves his hips the way he’s supposed to, climbs the pole the way he always does, and before long the time comes for him to actually go to the man, straddling him, but keeping his ass away from Eric’s body. He moves over the nervous boy, closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in the music.

Ignoring the person as much as possible is how Kurt gets through these dances. He pays attention enough, but mostly he pretends that he’s dancing by himself in his room back in Lima. Twirling around his room to Lady Gaga with Blaine perched on his bed, peering at him over the book he’s reading.�

He loved dancing in front of Blaine. He used to be embarrassed, but once you’ve seen someone naked and have been seen naked, you learn not to be so embarrassed. Sometimes Blaine would join in and the two would dance around like a pair of fools before one of them pushes the other onto the bed and the rest of the night would be spent with cuddles, and sweet kisses.�

He tries not to think about Blaine when he’s doing these because he lets his mind get carried away into believing that by thinking about Blaine, Kurt is cheating on him. The boys all tell him that that’s not the case, but Kurt sometimes has a hard time believing it.�

Kurt opens his eyes and finds them being met with Eric’s own lust filled ones. The boy licks his lips nervously, and Kurt knows what’s going to happen next. Before he can move, Eric leans forward, pressing his lips to Kurt’s. Kurt’s frozen for a wild second before his body catches up to his brain, raising his hand and slapping the boy and climbing off of him, shutting the music off and glaring at the once seemingly harmless boy.�

“I-I’m sorry,” Eric stutters, covering his crotch with his hands. “I…I got carried away.”

“The rule was no kissing,” Kurt hisses, breathing heavily. “You…you need to leave.”

“No, I…wait, please I didn’t mean to,” Eric sputters, standing up and walking to Kurt, but Kurt steps back until his body hit’s the pole in the middle of the room.�

“Go. Before I call security and they throw you out.”

Eric looks at him frantically, and Kurt knows that it was an honest mistake. He knows he didn’t mean it, but he can’t see past the fact that this boy kissed him. Eric bows his head, looking down at the floor as he addresses Kurt one final time.�

“Thank you for the dance,” he says, before running out, and Kurt swears that even with the thud of the music he hears a sob escape the boy’s lips.�

“Are you okay in there, Porcelain?” the bouncer says through the curtain.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine, I just need a minute,” Kurt calls out shakily, sliding down the pole and onto the ground, clutching his chest as sobs racked his body.�

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to kiss him it was the rules. Men always obeyed the rules even if they didn’t want to. He knows that Eric was new. He knows that, but it still doesn’t mean he can’t be mad at the fact that he kissed him. He cheated on Blaine. Maybe not on purpose, but his lips touched another man’s. He cheated, and fuck, he feels horrible.�

Slowly he makes his way out of the room and into the dressing room that only held Nova and Flower, talking and packing their things. Kurt walks to his own station and plops down on the seat, glancing at Blaine’s picture before he breaks down.�

“Porcelain, what happened?” Nova says worriedly, hurrying over to his side.�

“I-I…I fucked up!” Kurt cries, letting himself be pulled into Nova’s arms.�

“How, baby?”

“I…the guy he fucking kissed me!”

“He what?!” Flower yells. “Who was he? I’ll kick his ass. Doesn’t he know the rules?”

“Flower, calm down,” Nova says, rocking Kurt back and forth. “Porcelain, honey, what happened?”

“I-I did my dance and he just kissed me. I stopped him, but I still feel horrible,” Kurt whispers into Nova’s shoulder, his sobs subsiding somewhat.�

“The guy is the idiot, honey. You did nothing wrong.”

“I cheated on Blaine,” Kurt murmurs.�

“No you didn’t,” Flower puts in, coming behind Nova with a box of tissues. He gently dabs at Kurt’s face, patting it dry before he grabs the makeup removal pads and begins to take off Kurt’s makeup, the pliant boy underneath him not protesting.�

“That guy forced a kiss on you. Stuff like this happens. And just because stuff like this happens doesn’t mean that you cheated.”

“I still feel horrible,” Kurt murmurs.�

“Don’t, sugar. You didn’t cheat. It was just a stupid kiss from a stupid guy. Please don’t think so much about it,” Nova says, gently stroking Kurt’s hair out of his face. “Just think about the fact that you’re going to go visit your Blainey-wainey soon. You’re going to meet him at the airport and run into his arms. You’re going to be like one of those couples in those romantic comedies and it’s going to be sickeningly sweet, and perfect, and that’s all you should think about.”

Kurt releases a watery chuckle, and presses his face further into Nova, who doesn’t seem to mind that he’s staining his shirt with salt water.�

“Are you going to be okay, honey?” Flower asks.�

“Yeah, I’m going to be fine. I’ll call Blaine when I get home.”

“You’re not going to tell him about this kiss right?” Nova asks, using his index finger and thumb to pull Kurt’s face up slightly.�

Kurt shakes his head, making to move off of Nova’s lap. “No. it didn’t count as a kiss right?”�

“Exactly. Come on and get dressed so I can give you a lift,” Nova says, moving to his own chair.�

“I can walk,” Kurt starts, but Nova shakes his head.�

“No you can’t. I’m going to give you a ride whether you want me to or not,” he says firmly, and Kurt has no choice but to nod weakly, removing his vest and shorts, leaving him only in a pair of tight briefs.�

When he started he wouldn’t be caught dead undressing in front of a bunch of gay boys, but they all convinced him that while they thought he was attractive they would never hit on him because Kurt was always like a little brother to them, being the youngest of the bunch. So now he just tosses his clothes around, changing with little to no embarrassment.�

When he finishes getting dressed he grabs his stuff, including the check from Nova, and follows him out after hugging Flower tightly and telling him to tell the other guys goodbye for him.

Nova drives Kurt home, offering to spend the night and keep him company, but Kurt gently refuses, saying that all he really needs is to talk to Blaine. Nova smiles gently, blowing him a kiss before driving off.�

Kurt walks up the stairs, opens the door to his apartment and makes his way to the kitchen, rummaging through it before grabbing his leftover Chinese food, and sticking it into the oven to reheat.�

He drops his bag on the table, pulling his cell phone out to find a message from Blaine that was sent two hours ago.�

Hi beautiful, how was work? -B

Kurt smiles, grabbing his food from the microwave, along with some napkins and one of the unopened chopsticks that he’s collected in all of his time being here. He sets the food along with a bottle of water on the coffee table in the living room, letting it cool while he hurries into his room to change into his pajamas.�

He situates himself into the couch before grabbing his phone and dialing Blaine’s number, hearing it ring twice before Blaine’s voice greets him on the other line.�

“Hi, baby. I was expecting a text back but not a phone call. Not this late anyway, it‘s nearly midnight,” Blaine says.

“Hi. I was going to text you, but I wanted to hear your voice. And I’m sorry I’m calling so late.”

“It’s okay. How was your day?”

“It was stressful. School was a pain in my rear, and work didn’t help either.”

“Aww, baby, I’m so sorry,” Blaine says, sighing into the phone. “I feel like you’re working yourself to the bone.”

“Yeah, but it’s all been worth it,” Kurt says. Okay, that was a lie, but what was he going to tell Blaine?�

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks curiously.

“I have enough to go visit you this weekend,” Kurt all but screams into the receiver, and is met by Blaine’s squeal of excitement.�

“Really?! Oh my god, Kurt. I thought you didn’t have enough yet.”

“A…a friend helped me out,” Kurt whispers, taking a bite of food.�

“What?”

“It kind of slipped that I was short on money for rent this month at work today, and my friend helped me out,” Kurt confesses, shame once again taking over his body.�

“You’re short on money? Kurt, why didn’t you tell me I could have helped you out,” Blaine says.�

“No! No, I didn’t ask, he just…well he made me take the money, and I really needed it.”

“How much did he give you?”�

“A…a thousand dollars,” Kurt says tentatively into the receiver and nearly drops it when Blaine yells.�

“A THOUSAND DOLLARS!?”

“Blaine, shut up, your parents are going to hear you,” Kurt says frantically into the phone.

“A thousand dollars, are you serious, Kurt?”

“Yes, please don’t tell anybody. I didn’t ask, but I really do need the money.”

“Kurt, why don’t you just move in with Finn and Rachel. Clearly you are in no financial shape to be living by yourself,” Blaine sighs deeply.�

Because I’m a stripper and can’t have anybody find out, that’s why.�

“Because I like living by myself. Besides, it’s already crowded at Finn and Rachel’s. Can you imagine adding another person over there? No. I’m good. This money it’ll keep me afloat until my next paycheck,” Kurt replies, drumming the chopstick in his hand on his lap. He feels horrible for lying to Blaine about why he has to live alone, but he has to. He can’t have anybody finding out what he does.�

“Kurt, baby. I just…ugh why am I not there with you?”

“Because life hates us. Don’t worry, you’ll be here soon enough. And I’m going to visit you this weekend.”

“Can you get off work?”

“Of course I can. I’ll ask my boss tomorrow and by Friday I’ll be on a plane home to see you.”

“And your dad,” Blaine adds, and Kurt giggles.

“Yeah him too.”

Blaine chuckles into the receiver and it’s that sound that always makes Kurt feel better. No matter how badly his day goes he can always trust that Blaine’ll make him feel better. He doesn’t even have to say anything. He could be breathing into the receiver and Kurt will always feel a sense of calm throughout his body.

“What are you doing now?” Blaine asks, and Kurt smiles, glad that he’s dropped the money thing…for now. Kurt knows he’s going to get an earful when he goes home, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Eating leftovers, watching Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

“Mmm, sounds fun.”

“Yeah, I’m not really paying attention to it. I’m just listening to you. I missed you today,” Kurt says, and Blaine lets out a small�aww.�

“Just today?”

“I always miss you, silly. I especially missed you today is what I’m trying to say,” Kurt retorts playfully, rolling his eyes.�

“I especially missed you today too, baby. I cannot wait until Friday. Let me know what time your flight is, I don’t care if you get in at three in the morning, I will pick you up.”

“You better. I want you to be the first person I hug.”

“I will be,” Blaine yawns loudly.�

“Oh, Blaine, I feel like I’m keeping you up.”

“No, you’re not. I want to talk to you,” Blaine tries to convince Kurt, but another huge yawn interrupts his sentence.�

“Go to sleep, baby. You have school in the morning. I’ll call you tomorrow before work okay?” Kurt promises.�

“Okay. Text me in the morning,” Blaine says.�

“I’ll wake you up, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, baby,” Blaine says, yawning loudly again.�

“Goodnight, Blaine,” Kurt breathes into the receiver before he hangs up, getting up to dispose his trash and after pads off to the bathroom to do his nightly skincare routine.

He glances into the mirror and notices he has the makings of dark circles underneath his eyes. The sleep deprivation is finally getting to him. The waking up at six or seven in the morning and going to bed at midnight or later is finally starting to take effect on his body.�

Kurt sighs, grabbing a tube of anti-bag cream and dabs some beneath his lids, capping it and brushing his teeth swiftly, desperate to get into bed and sleep a few hours before class tomorrow.�

He gets into bed, sets his alarm, and allows sleep to take him, the last thing on his mind being Blaine and how excited his face will be when he sees him on Friday.�