Kurt groaned soundlessly and turned around to the much cooler side of his pillow. He'd been having some trouble falling asleep over the past week and half, ever since Blaine's date with Rachel and his own confession about wishing to have been the one in Rachel's place. The thought of it filled him with embarrassment; he had shown his emotions in front of Blaine before, but he had never expressed his desires of such a private nature so openly with anyone else, not even with his dad. If Blaine had thought him weak for doing so, he hadn't shown it. In fact, Blaine hadn't made mention of anything that occurred on Valentine's Day at all.

The memory of Blaine in his little sailor's outfit brought a warm smile to Kurt's lips. He was so happy to be going on his first date that he was practically glowing with energy. Blaine was just too cute for words but Kurt knew he had to be careful not to slip again and let Blaine know this. What would Blaine think of him? He'd been caught too many times casting glances his way. But he couldn't help his gaze from lingering much longer than necessary on first seeing Blaine in that little white outfit and cap.

Kurt knew he had "a thing" for sailors (or at least what he'd seen of handsome young actors in naval costumes from movie musicals). Seeing Blaine in a pint-sized version of the same outfit made him feel certain things that were both pleasing and wonderful and confusing to him.

And as Kurt thought back to Blaine twirling around in his sailor outfit, those certain feelings began to manifest by seeping into the most delicate areas of his body, so that when he shifted against the mattress again, his hand accidently brushed past his pajama pants to a very sensitive place between his thighs.

Kurt gasped and dropped his offending hand back on to the mattress. His breathing had changed to accompany the sudden increase of his heartbeat, but that wasn't what had fluttered Kurt's thoughts. He had certainly sensed something quite different from anything that he had ever felt before and while it was a little disconcerting, it had also felt…nice. He had never purposely tried to touch himself down there and he wasn't really sure about it, but maybe if he moved his hand over it again…

Kurt let out a surprised whimper as a faint pulse of pleasure flowed from the base of his spine. It also made his skin slightly tingly. Tentatively repeating the action, he was more precise with his hand this time, and he was able to let a soft moan fall from his lips. Encouraged to continue, he bit his lip and let his eyes drift shut, moving his hand purposely to reach that same spot while being mindful to keep quiet. If another series of soft whimpers happened to escape from his mouth, then he didn't force himself to stop them; he knew Blaine would have been fast asleep by now.

'Kurt, is anything the matter?'

Kurt yelped and pulled his blankets up to his chin, his eyes searching around for the source of the voice. He spotted a darkened figure sitting on the edge of his bedside table, illuminated scarcely by the streetlamp outside. Blaine had his head cocked to one side and from what Kurt could faintly see, was looking him over with a worrisome expression.

'I…yes! I'm-I'm fine, Blaine,' Kurt stammered, clawing at his sheets so that they covered up more of his chin. He was grateful that Blaine couldn't see him blushing furiously in the dark. 'Just- you know, night terrors, I think.'

'That didn't sound like night terrors.'

'Yes, well, I-I couldn't really sleep…and I wasn't having a nightmare, so…'

'Oh,' the smaller boy said. Then Kurt watched as Blaine's eyes grew as wide as saucers. 'Oh…'

'I…um…' Kurt began, but he stopped himself. There was nothing more he could say. It seemed to him that Blaine had already figured it out.

'Well, I'll just – uh, let you continue,' Blaine said, turning around a little awkwardly and climbing off the bedside table. Kurt heard the very light padding of small feet across the carpet as Blaine returned to his sleeping quarters. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his sheets over his head.

Was there no limit to how many times he would embarrass himself in front of Blaine?

…

Blaine wondered how to best broach the subject with Kurt as he climbed up on to a kitchen chair, swung off the backrest and made a practiced landing on the table. There was a wooden chopping board set up with a hot piece of toast sitting on it. Blaine breathed in the scent and sighed; it smelt delicious.

Kurt had his back to him as he retrieved items from the kitchen counter, already dressed for the day in a black cardigan and thin sweater while Blaine was still in his striped pajamas. He turned around with a knife and a jar of peanut butter in his hand, but froze when he spotted the smaller boy leaning against an upside-down glass on the table.

'Morning, Kurt,' Blaine said pleasantly.

'Good morning,' Kurt replied, the knife and jar still in his hands. After a long pause, he placed them down on the chopping board and busied himself with opening the jar. Blaine had made a firm decision not to speak of the night of his date ever again, seeing how upset it had made Kurt afterwards. He was, however, determined to talk to him about what had occurred the previous evening.

'I wanted to apologize about last night.'

The knife that Kurt had picked up suddenly slipped from his hands.

'Oh, no, you don't have to...' Kurt began, picking up the knife quickly. 'You don't have to do that.'

'I insist. I mean, it's perfectly natural to let your hands wander when the need arises -'

'No, really, I-I don't do that at all - '

'- and it's fine, honestly. I get urges too. Take this morning, for instance.'

Kurt was staring at him now, or rather, gaping at him. His mouth was hanging slightly open as a pink blush spread across his cheeks. He tore his eyes away as he dipped his knife in the jar, hurriedly spreading a large amount of peanut butter on his toast.

'Right,' Kurt muttered quietly, spreading the peanut butter intently as he shifted uncomfortably behind the kitchen table.

'Well, if you want to talk to me about it-'

'I don't,' Kurt said quickly, cutting the toast in half before slicing one half into smaller portions. 'Not about…that or urges or…sex.' He blushed again as he separated the portions on the board. 'I'm going up to my room.' Kurt picked up one of the slices and hurried past the table, his footsteps sprinting lightly up the stairs. Blaine could hear the bedroom door upstairs closing with a loud snap.

Blaine stared ruefully at his pieces of peanut-buttered toast. It was his favorite breakfast meal, but not even the sight of it could stir up his diminished appetite.

…

'How's the progress on the station wagon, Andy?'

'All set. Should be ready by four o'clock.'

'Good job.' Burt scratched his head under his cap and wandered over to the Ford that had been waiting for him in the garage since that morning. Its bonnet was popped open and he knew it was going to be a routine maintenance check; oil, water, brakes, the usual. He reached over to the small table on wheels where he kept his tools, hoping to retrieve his oil-stained rag while he looked at the car's engine. Instead, his fingers grasped a hold of something soft that let out a tiny squeak.

Burt hit his head on the inner bonnet of the car in his haste to look up. He swore and looked to the side, dropping whatever it was that he had picked up in his hand. Blaine was picking himself up off the table and dusting himself off. The untouched rag lay a few inches away.

'Um…hi, Burt.'

'Christ, kid,' Burt said, looking around the garage before dropping down in front of the table. 'How did you get here?'

'I, uh…' the small boy said, looking down at his shoes. 'I hid in your truck after you came back for lunch this afternoon. I left a note under Kurt's door to say that I was going for a walk. I'm just a little worried about him, that's all.'

'Is he sick again?' Burt asked, picking up the rag and wiping his hands. Kurt had seemed to be down with a cold a couple of weeks ago, but it had only lasted a few days.

'No, it's not that,' Blaine said, taking a deep breath. Burt knew that when his son had something important to say, he would only be comfortable in saying it when Burt wasn't watching him intently. So he extended the same courtesy to Blaine while he checked the oil gauge of the car. 'I'm just wondering if you've had a chance to talk to Kurt about some…important stuff. Like, how to deal with urges. And…sex.'

Burt stopped himself from unscrewing the cap on the oil filter and stared down at his hand.

'Not yet.'

'Because I think it would be a good idea to talk to him about it,' Blaine continued, his voice a little louder. Burt knew the other mechanics wouldn't be able to hear their conversation, not with the clanging of their tools as they made repairs and the radio playing soft rock in the background. For once, he was kind of grateful for the noise.

'So you came all this way to tell me that?' Burt said, placing the rag over his shoulder as he dared flick his eyes over in Blaine's direction.

'Sort of.' Blaine sat down on the table and crossed his legs as he began to stare down at his lap. 'I really care about Kurt. I just don't want him to be at a party one day, and meets some guy wanting to do…things with him, and he might be ready, but he's not going to know about being safe and using protection. I mean, he won't be getting informed about any of this from Mrs Frederick, and I know that Dalton's curriculum doesn't even touch upon this stuff. Jeff and Nick were happy to help me look up things on the internet, and there is a lot of information out there, but it's not the same as learning about it and discussing it with someone you trust, like your own dad.'

Burt continued watching him as he leaned against the car.

'And, well…my father wasn't around to inform me about those things, not that he ever would have, but I think it's nice that Kurt has you to talk to him about it.'

'I assume something must have brought this on,' Burt said. 'But I'm not gonna ask you about it,' he replied quickly, as he saw an apprehensive look flash across Blaine's face. 'So you've talked to him?'

'I've tried,' Blaine said, and he sounded disappointed. 'But he was hesitant to discuss anything with me.' He chose that moment to look up at Burt, and Burt knew he couldn't say no to those pleading, puppy-like brown eyes.

'I'll think about it,' Burt answered with a sigh, waving his hand in agreement. 'Give me about fifteen minutes and I'll drive you home, otherwise Kurt will start recruiting a search party.'

'Thanks.'

Burt acknowledged Blaine's response with a nod before returning to look under the bonnet of the car. If his talk with Kurt was going to be as awkward as his conversation with Blaine, then he'd prefer to get it over with as soon as possible.