July 10, 2022

Kurt returns from his trip on Sunday night, but it's not until Thursday that Blaine sees him in person. He has, of course, seen Kurt several times through the mirror. He mostly caught Kurt doing mundane tasks like sorting mail or watching television. But he did see another yoga session and another time watched for several long minutes as Kurt drew in his sketchpad with long, purposeful strokes.

"Hey there, neighbor! Long time no see," Blaine calls out before he even reaches Kurt's booth at the coffee shop.Or at least, it's been a long time since you saw me,his brain supplies unhelpfully as Kurt looks up from his magazine with a smile.

"How was your Fourth?" Kurt asks. Filling him in on some of the highlights from the party, Blaine quickly shifts the conversation to Kurt's trip, letting his neighbor relay some of his stepbrother's antics and a sweet story about his father and step-mother dancing to big-band music at the local fireworks show. When he mentions a reunion of sorts with members of his glee club who were in town, Blaine remembers something they discussed right before Kurt left.

"I hope you practiced some songs with your glee club friends, because I still intend to hold you to that promise to do karaoke with me." Blaine smiles teasingly and touches Kurt's arm.

Kurt flinches slightly, but smoothes his features into a slight smile and says, "Of course. And I will wipe the floor with you with my singing skills."

"Oh, is this a competition now?"

"It sure is."

Blaine smiles at Kurt, his heart fluttering. He aches to takes Kurt's hand, but he doesn't dare.

July 15, 2022

Ever since that Saturday night at the karaoke bar, which started as a mostly-friendly competition between them for the loudest cheers and quickly turned into a very friendly quest to find the best duets to highlight their complementary ranges, Kurt has appeared at his door every morning to walk together to the coffee shop. Blaine's favorite part of these walks is when they are still in the narrow hallway in front of their apartment doors. Blaine feels electric jolts every time their arms brush and he can just faintly catch the vanilla scent of Kurt's shampoo. But as soon as they reach the stairwell, Kurt steps to the side, widening the distance between them.

This morning, after making fun of Kurt for yet again trying to peer past him into the apartment as he slides out the door, Blaine finally invites Kurt to drop by and check out the décor.Wow, that sounded much less sleazy in my head,Blaine thinks. But Kurt doesn't seem to notice any innuendo so Blaine relaxes a bit.

"Oh yes!" Kurt squeaks, clapping his hands together and bouncing up and down in his seat in delight. "Can I see it tonight?"

Kurt's enthusiasm is contagious and Blaine can't help but laugh. "Sure. I'll be home by six. We could order a pizza."

"No need for that. I have an excellent stir-fry recipe I'm just dying to try out. I'll bring it over once it's all cooked."

"Okay. But I'm going to have to start cooking for you one of these days, or I'll feel forever in your debt. I've been told I make an excellent chicken pesto," Blaine says with a smile.

"Mmm. That sounds good, too. I'll definitely let you cook next time." Kurt is already scooting out of the booth and Blaine suppresses a pained sigh that it is time to leave the brightest spot of his day and head off to work.

Luckily the hospital is busy and the work day sails by. Soon Blaine is on the subway, tapping his foot impatiently and hoping he has enough time to make sure the closet is locked and the key hidden before Kurt knocks on his door. And enough time to change clothes.Maybe something tight and black would attract Kurt's attention.

An hour later, Blaine feels silly for putting on a sexy outfit, dimming the lights and setting his ipod to his "romantic mood" playlist. Kurt doesn't seem to notice these efforts. In fact, with the exception of the potholder mittens he is wearing when he carries a steaming pot of aromatic food into Blaine's kitchen, Kurt is all business.

He waltzes around the apartment, appraising each piece of furniture and the sparse smattering of posters and prints on the walls with a critical eye. Blaine follows him from room to room, babbling explanations for his poor decorating skills. "The furniture is all hand-me-downs from my parents' storage unit...", "I don't really have a lot of artwork yet...", "...my artistic skills are really limited to music..."

When they reach the bedroom,Kurt swings around to face him. "Stop putting yourself down. Hand-me-down furniture is great, especially when it's solid wood like what you have here. It would be really expensive to try to buy stuff of this quality, especially in New York. Trust me, I find the greatest pieces at yard sales. And I'm glad that not everyone is a whiz at interior design. Otherwise I'd be out of a job."

Blaine huffs out the breath he'd been holding in a relieved laugh. "Thanks. I was pretty nervous about what you would think."

"Now it makes sense that you worked so hard to keep me out of here for so long," Kurt laughs. "I was beginning to wonder if you were hiding dead bodies in here." Kurt grabs the handle to the closet door and Blaine has to stop himself from throwing himself between Kurt and the metal knob. "Is this the closet? Oh, it won't open." Kurt is rattling the handle now and shoving at it.

"It's just the closet. It's locked," Blaine says, trying to keep his voice even. He can hear the blood pounding in his ears. "Nothing interesting in there."

"Now I'm really going to think you're hiding dead bodies in here. Why would you lock your closet door? I mean, you do a better job than most guys I know at dressing yourself, but if you have any $500 suits in your wardrobe, I certainly haven't seen them," Kurt teases.

Oh God. Why didn't I think of a good cover story for locking the door? Think, think, think.Kurt's smile is starting to fade as he stares at Blaine, waiting for an answer. "O-kay," Kurt says slowly, starting to back away. His posture has changed. Everything about him seems stiff, alert and ready to bolt. "Maybe I should go?"

"Safe!" Blaine blurts out, desperate to keep Kurt from disappearing on him again. It's the first word to come to his head. He wants Kurt to feel safe with him and it is clear that Kurt, with his sad history with neighbors, does not trust him. But as he says this word and sees Kurt watch him warily, he realizes this is the perfect cover story for the locked door. "I mean, I lock the closet because I find it easier to use than having a safe. You know, for important papers? Protect against identity theft and all."

Blaine realizes he is babbling, but he can't help it now, the words keep flowing out of him seemingly against his will. "It's so easy for someone to steal your identity. So many documents we get in the mail have our social security numbers or bank account numbers on them. You know – credit card applications, bank statements, health insurance statements." Kurt's posture is just beginning to relax a bit. Encouraged, Blaine continues. "I used to have one of those safes you can buy at the hardware store, but it was just too small to fit all the files I wanted to keep in there. And the combination locks are so hard to use. I just – this is so much better." He finishes with a gesture toward the door.

Kurt looks between Blaine and the locked door. "That, um, actually sounds like a good idea. I just keep all my papers in my desk. It's not locked up or anything."

"Well, I could help you put a lock on your closet door if you want. I had to buy a power tool to change out the doorknob. I still have it, so..." Blaine smiles at Kurt, hoping he looks completely innocent.

Kurt laughs, fully relaxed once more. "Yeah, I think I'll need to find another solution. There's no way I can fit anything else into my closet. I already had to get a free-standing wardrobe for the bedroom so my clothes wouldn't wrinkle."

"Really? I mean, I know you take your clothes seriously and you seem to have quite a stunning collection, but you really don't have room for a few files when you have a wardrobe and a walk-in closet?" Blaine asks incredulously.

Blaine realizes his mistake as soon as Kurt's expression shifts to a mix of excitement and envy. "That's a walk-in closet?" Kurt practically squeals. "Oh my God! I would kill for one of those. I didn't know any of the apartments in this building had walk-in closets! You have to show me!"

Oh shit. Me and my damn big mouth. How am I going to get out of this one?Blaine runs through a few options in his mind, and settles on caution as an explanation Kurt might understand. "Um. Look – I really like getting to know you as a neighbor and a friend. But you can probably tell that I'm pretty concerned about keeping my personal effects safe. I don't want to offend you, but...I don't really feel comfortable letting you in there. Is that okay?" Blaine rubs the back of his head and looks down on the floor for much of this speech, chancing quick glances up at Kurt to gage his reaction.

Kurt's face is a mask of sympathy. "Oh, don't worry. I completely understand. I'm sorry to be so pushy about it. I just got excited. I totally want to have a walk-in closet in my next apartment."

"Yeah, I was told it was one of the main selling features of the place. It's a bit wasted on me, though. I would much rather have a good view instead of all these buildings." Blaine says breathily, shaky with relief. He is pretty sure that discovering the one way mirror would horrify Kurt far more than if there actually were dead bodies hidden in the closet.

"Oh – I have a great view from my bedroom window. It's really the best feature of my apartment. That and the mirror of course," says Kurt breezily.

"Right," Blaine says to the floor, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

"You know, with your spacious closet and my amazing view, we could have the perfect apartment," Kurt laughs.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Blaine says, leading the way back to the kitchen. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor as his mind unhelpfully supplies,my closet already has an amazing view.

Kurt's stir fry is delicious. Blaine savors each bite, thankful for the distraction from the near disaster over the locked closet. Kurt is already bursting with ideas for re-designing Blaine's apartment. Blaine is mostly content to enjoy the food and watch Kurt bubble with excitement.

"Once you agree to a theme, you'll have to give me a budget," Kurt says excitedly. "Then I can start searching for pieces that would work for your space."

Blaine loves to see the passion in Kurt's eyes, but he realizes he needs to stop this from getting out of control. "The budget is next to nothing, I'm afraid. And I don't want you to waste your time on my measly little apartment. I can barely afford any more furniture or art, so it's not like I could actually hire you."

Kurt looks horrified, and Blaine runs back over his words, hoping he didn't say anything too offensive. "No! I mean, I didn't expect you to pay me or anything. God, what kind of friend would that make me?"

"That's so nice of you, Kurt, really. But I can't let you do something like that for me for free," Blaine insists.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kurt says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I love designing a space, especially on a tight budget. Poking through yard sales to find inexpensive treasures is so fun! And it wouldn't take any extra time. I go to yard sales for work all the time. I'll just keep an eye out for you while I'm working for my paying clients."

"Well, if it's really not too much trouble..." Blaine says hesitantly.

"No trouble at all." Kurt looks into the distance thoughtfully for a moment, chewing. Then he looks at Blaine, beaming. "There's an amazing flea market right in this neighborhood at the end of the month. You should come with me."

Blaine smiles and readily agrees. After all, he's happy to spend a few dollars on flea market art if it means spending more time with Kurt.

July 30, 2022

Blaine grins at the large brass plate hanging over the television in his living room. It has an intricate abstract design that somewhat resembles interlocking vines. It is the latest acquisition Kurt has found for him. Blaine had his doubts when they first spotted it at the community flea market, but Kurt can be very persuasive. And as soon as Kurt had hung the plate on the wall, Blaine could see that it did work perfectly in his apartment.

The community flea market was last weekend and Blaine had had a blast – at least up until the end of the day. Watching Kurt hunt intensely through the clutter of items at the various tables set out along the street, Blaine felt that telltale stomach flip that he knew meant he was falling hard and fast for this man. This talented, sexy man who, for all intents and purposes, was available. Or at least should be. But for some reason Kurt seemed to be off limits.

It was late in the day when Kurt found the brass plate. Blaine was content to browse lazily through the tables a few steps behind Kurt, flipping casually through merchandise with one hand. His other arm was piled high with items Kurt had found for various clients. He didn't mind carrying things for Kurt. Kurt was the one who really needed his hands free to browse in earnest. Also, it helped fuel Blaine's daydream that they were on a date. Carrying his partner's purchases had always seemed like such an intimate act.

Kurt had gasped when he saw the plate. He poked Blaine's arm and gushed about how perfect it would be in his apartment. Blaine was doubtful, but he didn't want to dampen Kurt's enthusiasm, so he played along. When the seller returned from helping a customer at another table, Kurt's features had morphed to instant indifference. Blaine watched with fascination as Kurt used his acting skills masterfully to bargain for a better price.

It wasn't until he handed Blaine his change that the man recognized him. "Oh, it's you again. It's good you brought your friend here to bargain for you. I remember you paid full price for that bench earlier this month."

"Bench? I don't remember a bench in your apartment," Kurt said thoughtfully at the same time as Blaine yelped out, "I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else."

"I always remember faces," the man said, tapping the side of his forehead with one finger.

"Well, you're wrong this time," Blaine insisted. He tugged at Kurt's arm with his free hand, urging him away. "Come on, we better go. I don't think I can manage to carry anything else."

"Where would you even fit a bench in your apartment?" Kurt had asked.

Blaine had shrugged his shoulders and traced a circle in the air next to his forehead. "Welcome to New York City – land of the crazies," he laughed nervously.

Now as Blaine still gazes at the brass plate in his living room, he frowns at the memory of deceiving Kurt once more. But he smiles again when his gaze lands on the locked closet door. He had been so good lately. He hadn't watched Kurt in the mirror for almost two weeks now. He had spotted a few tempting glimpses of his long-limbed neighbor while grabbing clothes from the closet in the mornings or evenings, but he had forced himself to simply look away again.

He knows he should put up that drywall, but he just can't bring himself to do it. It seems too permanent. Alone in his apartment, Kurt is so relaxed and vibrant – carefree in a way he never allows himself in public. And through the mirror, Blaine can drink in his fill of Kurt's poise and beauty in a way he never could in person. Blaine likes to think of himself as a good guy and he knows that good guys don't violate their neighbors' privacy. But something twists in his stomach at the thought of giving up his unfettered view permanently. He knows at least in part it is because Kurt is so guarded that Blaine feels like he is constantly walking on eggshells, waiting for Kurt to pull the plug on their friendship.What if I offend him and he won't talk with me anymore? If I put up that drywall I'll have no other way to see him.

Sighing, Blaine puts off thinking about the drywall for another day. He has a good excuse. Work was frustrating and he is exhausted. Almost all of his patients were screamers today. In one particularly trying case, a little girl would not respond to music of any kind. He had stayed well past his shift trying to make progress. Even though it is only nine thirty, he heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When he reaches the bedroom and sheds his clothing in favor of boxers and an undershirt, he hears faint music coming from Kurt's apartment.Is that Beyoncé?He presses his ear to the wall and listens.Definitely Beyoncé,he thinks as, "All the single ladies, all the single ladies," drifts through the wall.

He argues with himself for only a minute before his curiosity wins.I've been so good for so long. I deserve a reward.And then he's pushing open the door and gasping at the sight that greets him.

There is Kurt, wearing black pants so tight theymustbe painted on, gyrating hips accented by a belt. Blaine's eyes travel up Kurt's body, drinking in the second skin of black, long-sleeved shirt topped by a snug-fitting, sparkly vest. As he moves to the music, a black tie bounces on his chest. It is tight across his throat.Like a leash,Blaine thinks and whistles low in appreciation.

He can hear the song a bit better through the mirror and he can feel the thump of the bass through the floor. Kurt is keeping perfect time to the beat, shaking his hips, sticking out his ass, slapping himself, and spinning around with flair. His mouth is moving along with the words, but he's not singing.This is practically pornographic. Oh God, I shouldn't be watching this. Kurt would just die if he knew I was watching this.But Blaine can't tear his eyes away.

The song nears the end and now Kurt's hips are spinning in fast, erotic circles. Blaine's face heats up with a blush as he notices the distinct bulge in Kurt's crotch.Does he dance at a strip club on the side?But no, that image doesn't mesh with the Kurt that Blaine has been getting to know. No, this must just be a private show he is giving himself in his mirror. Once again, Blaine is hit by sharp pangs of guilt.

All too soon the song ends. Kurt pants slightly, glaring critically at himself in the mirror. He stalks toward the stereo and hits a button, and the song starts up again. Shoving the guilt to the back of his mind, Blaine lowers himself reverently onto the bench he so vehemently denied owning and watches. Blaine feels his cock harden in his boxers, but he tightens his hands into fists and digs them into the cushion on either side of his thighs.It's bad enough that I'm watching this. I can't jerk off to him, too.Kurt performs the song a glorious three times before mopping his brow, turning off the stereo and the lights, and heading toward his bedroom.

Blaine looks down at the head of his cock peering out from the slit in his boxers.Jerking off to a video of your neighbor online isn't as bad as jerking off to him live, is it?Blaine rushes to his laptop and pulls up his bookmarks. He clicks Kurt Hummel Sings and scrolls through the site. He is positive he saw something with Single Ladies before.There it is!Blaine clicks on the link, pushing down his boxers and grasping his cock firmly as the video loads. But when the video starts, Blaine drops his erection and recoils from it as from a flame. The video shows Kurt in tight black pants and a sparkly, long sleeved top flanked by two girls in black leotards and bare legs. But the Kurt in this video looks like he is barely fourteen, with soft rosy cheeks and floppy hair. He is performing the same basic dance, but it is much stiffer, much more restrained. More juvenile.I am such a pervert!Blaine's penis retreats back to its resting size. He pulls his underwear back on and lies in bed, feeling exhausted and willing sleep to overtake him and erase his burning guilt.

August 8, 2022

Blaine avoids Kurt for a few days, cancelling their morning coffees with the excuse that he needs to get to work early. But he doesn't leave early. Each morning, he waits with his eye pressed up to the peephole, barely daring to breathe until he watches Kurt walk past. Only then does he dare to retrieve clothes from his closet, heart racing irrationally as he glances into Kurt's darkened apartment, as if he expects him to appear at any moment, gyrating his mesmerizing hips. Each morning, Blaine picks up a piece of drywall and holds it up to the window, willing himself to just close off the source of his shame. And each morning, he struggles, and sweats, and hates himself. And then puts the drywall back in its corner with the neglected paint.

He misses Kurt's voice, his face, his smell as they stand side by side in the hallway. Each evening he longs to watch Kurt, even if he is just watching television. But most nights he sits with his back to the outside of the closet door, digging his fingernails into his arms and feeling like he is going to jump out of his skin with need. He spends more than a week living this torturous existence.

Tonight, his new routine is disrupted by a knock at the door. He opens it to reveal Kurt, his stylish outfit overshadowed by his red-rimmed eyes. "You're avoiding me. Did I do something to offend you?" Kurt asks bluntly.

Any embarrassment Blaine may have felt is instantly replaced with concern. "No, not at all. I've just had a different schedule for work this week. Kurt, have you been crying?" he asks, stunned.

"No, my contact lenses are just bothering me."

Blaine is almost certain that Kurt does not wear contact lenses, but he lets his friend preserve his dignity. Blaine's guilt over stealing Kurt's privacy is immediately overtaken by his guilt at giving the impression that he doesn't want Kurt's friendship. In fact, he wants much more from Kurt than that.If I can just get him to agree to date me, I won't have to watch him through the mirror anymore. And he'll never have to know.

Blaine invites Kurt in and pours him a glass of wine, gesturing to the couch and apologizing profusely for letting his work get in the way of their time together. "I'm so sorry. I should have let you know more about my schedule. I just – I felt a little weird about knocking on your door," Blaine lies. "I mean, I'm glad you knocked on mine," he continues hurriedly when he sees the stricken look on Kurt's face. "It broke the stalemate, you know. We should probably exchange numbers. Then I can text you if my work schedule changes and we can figure out another time to get coffee." Blaine searches Kurt's face carefully for a negative reaction, but Kurt seems relieved. Blaine keeps his face carefully neutral as they exchange numbers, but inwardly he is pumping his fist and grinning.I just asked for his number! And he's giving it to me!

"I guess it was silly for me to feel rejected," Kurt admits shyly. "My step-mother works at a hospital and I know the hours can be erratic sometimes."

Not so much for music therapists,thinks Blaine, but he stays silent in a rare moment of self-preservation.

"I just don't have the greatest history with friendships. Or relationships of any kind, really. Except for my family. We get along great," Kurt continues.

"I completely understand," Blaine says, faking confidence. "I've studied psychology, and you would be amazed at how much of human behavior is driven by a fear of rejection, even when there is absolutely no reason to think you would ever be rejected by someone."Like with you and me. I will never reject you. And I hope you won't reject me either. I think I'm in love with you already.

"You would think that rejection wouldn't phase me anymore," Kurt is saying. "I've experienced it enough in auditions that it shouldn't even register."

"But, I thought you said you've been in plays. You can't have been rejected every time?"

"Yes, I've been in some local community theater productions. Usually I audition for a lead and either get nothing or a small supporting role. So that's still rejection of a sort. But I used to audition on Broadway."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. And you wouldn't believe some of the crazy stuff the directors ask you to do. Sing your song backwards while jumping on one leg and emote that someone has just killed your firstborn before your very eyes." They share a look, laughing together. "Actually, it's not usually that bad, but they can get quite creative in their reasons for why you're just not good enough for their production. I always thought I'd be the one to succeed on Broadway, since I was so much better at handling rejection than Rachel. But I guess Rachel was better at singing and at conforming to whatever the Broadway directors wanted in a role. So she didn't have to handle rejection too much. And now she's a star, just like she always wanted."

Blaine doesn't pay too much attention to the Broadway circuit, but he likes musicals enough to read reviews in the paper, so it only takes him a minute to place the name. After all, there is only one famous Rachel on Broadway right now. "You know Rachel Berry?"

Kurt smiles wistfully. "Ah, of course. You would know who she is, too. That would make her so happy. She always was laser focused on being famous."

"How do you know her?" Blaine asks. He isn't really interested in Rachel, but he does want to know everything he can about Kurt.

"We went to high school together. Sang in Glee club together. For a while we were best friends. We were roommates, too, when I first moved to New York. But things were a bit strained between us even then," Kurt winces at the memory.

Blaine can't imagine anyone letting a friendship with this amazing man slip through their fingers. "What happened?"

Kurt twists his fingers together in his lap and forces an air of nonchalance. "Oh, I don't know. It just got harder and harder to be around her. She is a bit of a diva at the best of times. And then she got into the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts and I didn't. And then she got the Broadway roles and I didn't. I didn't begrudge her the success. Her voice is magnificent and it always has been. But I think it would have been easier for her if I had landed some Broadway roles, too. When I moved out here we started to lose touch." Kurt trailed off for a moment and looked into the distance thoughtfully. "I think she was worried that I would try to get her to use her connections to get me a role or something. But I still can say 'I knew her when', so I guess that's something."

In an effort to build up Kurt's confidence, Blaine says enthusiastically, "But it's good you're not a Broadway star because you love interior design." Kurt nods in acquiescence and smiles. "And you're so good at it," Blaine continues, pleased to see the faint blush appear on Kurt's cheeks. "And you're also a star of the Bronx community theater circuit."

Kurt laughs. "Okay, okay. You win the title of 'official cheerer-up-er of Kurt Hummel' for the night. But it's a bit too far to call me a star of community theater. Like I said, I get a lot of rejection there, too."

"But it must be a little better," prompts Blaine, resting his chin in his hand.

"Yes, it's great to get a part once in a while," Kurt concedes. "Around here the directors tend to favor long auditions. You give them a monologue, a full song and maybe a line reading and the director keeps a poker face throughout the whole thing. But I think I like the Broadway auditions better. They cut you off after eight bars and shout out 'too short', or 'too tall', or 'too white', or in my case 'too fey' and shoo you out immediately. The rejection is just like ripping off a bandaid. Short, sweet and no days or weeks of wondering whether you'll get the call."

They talk for a while longer, sipping on wine and swapping stories about plays, auditions and show choir competitions. Blaine falls a little more in love with each passing minute.

When Blaine asks Kurt to, "Please give me a chance and let me take you out," and Kurt answers immediately with a blunt, "No," it feels less like ripping off a bandaid and more like ripping off a piece of his skin. Blaine thinks about what Kurt said that night about different styles of rejection. He thinks he prefers the subtler kind. It allows some room to hope that you still have a chance to change that no to a yes.

What spooked you so badly,Blaine thinks as Kurt makes his excuses and heads for the door.

August 10, 2022

Blaine decides to go back to watching Kurt, telling himself he is just gathering clues about Kurt's life. Ways to connect better with him so that eventually he can get Kurt to date him.It's harmless, he tells himself as he watches Kurt watch a rerun of Grey's Anatomy. The angle of the television doesn't give Blaine a good enough view to figure out exactly what episode Kurt is watching, but he is familiar with the show.

At the coffee shop the next day, Blaine casually asks, "Did you see the Grey's Anatomy episode last night?"

Kurt stiffens visibly and stares at Blaine across the table for a long moment. Cautiously he asks, "There was a Grey's rerun on television last night?"

"Oh, did you not watch it?" Blaine knows Kurt watched it. He saw him watching it, but he doesn't know what else to say. "I – uh – I just thought you mentioned liking that show and I saw it was on last night."

"What channel?" Kurt asks suspiciously.

Oh God, why is he interrogating me? And why was I so stupid that I didn't check what channel?Running quickly through channel options in his mind, Blaine makes a guess. "Um. Lifetime? I think..."

After a moment of tense silence, Kurt's posture begins to relax. "Oh, yes. I guess they have reruns on that channel all the time. What a weird coincidence, though. I did watch a Grey's, but it was on DVD. You like that show, too?"

"Yeah," Blaine says softly with a relieved smile.

Kurt smiles back and says, "Sorry about my weird reaction. I have to keep reminding myself that you're not Sandy."

"Sandy?"

"Creepy neighbor number one. He was good at guessing what shows or movies I was watching. I figured he was listening with a glass held up to the wall. I wouldn't really put it past that guy to do anything to try to engage me in a conversation." Kurt is smiling as if he is telling a joke, and Blaine feels his own smile twitch as he tries to swallow down his horror. Laughing, Kurt continues. "God, I'm so paranoid. I even started wearing headphones so he couldn't hear it anymore. I was actually grateful that my other creepy neighbor just liked to make generic crude comments about wanting to get in my pants. At least I didn't have to worry about him spying on my TV time. Anyway, which one were you watching?"

Blaine stares blankly at Kurt for a moment before he realizes that Kurt is asking him about Grey's Anatomy again. "Oh, uh – it was the one with the ferry crash."

"Oh yeah, you mean the one where Alex rescues the pregnant woman who can't remember who she is?"

"Yes – that's right," Blaine says absently, fixing a smile on his face and trying not to think about himself as just another creepy neighbor.

"That one was so sad. All those people waiting to find out if their loved ones lived or died." Kurt pauses for just a moment of respect before pivoting to ask with excitement, "What's your favorite episode?"

Blaine is quickly drawn back into the conversation and soon he and Kurt are chatting merrily about favorite characters and storylines. Blaine decides that seeing Kurt's eyes sparkle with mirth is worth a little guilt over his deception.It's harmless,he thinks as he smiles across the table at Kurt.

August 13, 2022

It's harmless, Blaine tells himself as he watches Kurt sort his mail, watch television, stretch a few times, and read magazines.He never has to know,he says as he picks up the latest issues of Vogue and Out on his way to the subway station and flips through them.Completely harmless,he insists as he casually brings up his opinion about this year's Out100 list over coffee.It's helping us become even better friends,he tells himself as Kurt beams and gushes about the details of the Out100.

I'm not really doing anything wrong, he keeps telling himself as he pulls open the closet door and takes a seat on the bench. Blaine repeatsharmlessas a mantra that night as Kurt walks up to the mirror and spins slowly before it, twisting his neck to look at his rear. Kurt adjusts his posture, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest. He arches his back slightly and the fabric of his red pants hugs his ass more closely.

I'm just looking. It's not hurting anyone. It's perfectly harmless,Blaine repeats as Kurt faces the mirror and makes a sexy pout, running his hands up and down the sides of his black button-down. Kurt shifts his hips seductively and stares with a burning intensity into the mirror as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, revealing the pale skin beneath inch by inch.

Blaine is frozen to the spot, barely able to breathe as he watches Kurt slowly pull the shirt off of his shoulders before letting it drop to the floor. Blaine drinks in the sight of Kurt's smooth chest and toned arms.I shouldn't be watching this,he thinks, squirming on the bench. But he cannot look away as Kurt runs his hands up and down his sides.

Kurt runs one hand through his hair, gripping it and pulling his head back as his other hand trails down his neck, over a beaded nipple, and then down along the v of his hips. Blaine gasps as Kurt brings both hands to his waist. His eyes are riveted to Kurt's hands as he flicks open the button and tugs down the zipper. Kurt runs his hands back up his body slowly. With a snap of his hips, the pants pool at his ankles and he steps out of them deftly. Blaine eyes the bulge in the front of Kurt's snug black boxer briefs hungrily. When Kurt's hand curls around it, Blaine presses a palm to his own hardening cock and chokes back a whimper.Be quiet, he'll hear youwars withyou are such a creeperin Blaine's mind.

Kurt turns and watches his ass in the mirror as he stretches the elastic over it and pulls down his briefs. Blaine stares in wonder as the muscles shift beneath the round, firm globes of Kurt's ass. Blaine stretches shaking fingers toward the image before him.He is so close. It's as if I could just reach out and touch him. He catches a delicious glimpse of Kurt's dusty pink hole and the bottom curve of his balls hanging down as he bends slightly to pull the underwear free from his legs.

Kurt straightens, muscles rippling across his back and turns to face the mirror, hard cock already in his hand. His cock is flushed pink, long and thin with a delicate mushroom head. Kurt is squeezing it gently, head tipped back, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Blaine's cock is straining against his pants, but he simply presses his hand against it harder, not daring to do more.This is so wrong. I need to look away.

But he can't stop watching as Kurt runs his hand up and down the shaft of his cock tantalizing and slow. Blaine feels a stab of fear as Kurt turns a piercing gaze right at him. He freezes again, fighting his urge to run.It's a mirror. He's looking at himself.Blaine's cock jumps at this thought. It is hard to reconcile this shameless image of a man masturbating to the sight of his own body with the image of his often closed-off, uptight neighbor. And Blaine is coming undone at the illusion that Kurt is staring at him with that searing gaze. It is so easy to imagine that Kurt is locking eyes with Blaine deliberately as he makes a show of licking his palm with messy greed. Kurt throws his head back again as his slicked up hand flies quickly up and down his cock. Blaine squeezes his fingers around his own throbbing cock, still trapped in his pants. When he hears Kurt's moans drift through the wall, that's all it takes before he feels his release pump hot and wet into his pants. Horrified that he has just gotten off to watching his neighbor's very private moment, Blaine stands and slowly backs away, eyes still trained on Kurt's straining body. But before Blaine even reaches the closet door, Kurt releases his cock from his tight grip and walks briskly, cock bobbing up and down, toward the hallway leading to his bedroom.

Okay, maybe that was not so harmless.Blaine grabs a few shirts and pairs of pants at random and throws them over his dresser before locking the closet door. The next day, Blaine blushes each time he tries to meet Kurt's eyes.

August 17, 2022

Blaine waits until he has worn all of the clothes piled on the dresser at least once before he dares to open the closet door again. Feeling a bit foolish, he closes his eyes and reaches in front of himself blindly, hoping to safely pass in front of the window and reach the clothes on the other side. He cries out in pain, eyes flying open when he stubs his toe on the bench. His eyes are drawn instantly to the one-way mirror and he curses himself for being so weak.

Kurt is sitting on the sofa, staring at nothing, phone to his ear. Blaine feels a pang of disappointment that Kurt is fully dressed, followed immediately by a wave of self-loathing for thinking such a thing.He has all his clothes on this time. And I've already given in. It can't hurt to take a closer look.Blaine studies Kurt through the glass. Kurt looks utterly distraught, eyes and nose tinged red and cheeks streaked with tears. He ends the call and drops the phone beside him before burying his face in his hands and shaking with small sobs.

Without a second thought, Blaine races out of his apartment. Within seconds he is knocking at Kurt's door. He is still trying to think of a plausible excuse for coming over –don't ask to borrow anything, for God's sake– when Kurt opens the door, sniffling slightly. "I was just coming over to see if..." Blaine's voice trails away. Kurt's tears have been wiped away but his face is still blotchy and his eyes red-rimmed. "Kurt, what's wrong?"

Kurt steps back and Blaine steps forward. Suddenly, Kurt launches himself at Blaine, squeezing him into a desperate hug. Blaine wraps his arms gently over Kurt's back, rubbing comforting circles into his skin and reveling in the solid feel of him.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says as he releases his grip and steps back again. "I'm okay. Just a bit overwhelmed."

"What happened?" Blaine asks with concern etched into his face.

"I just got off the phone with my dad," Kurt begins. He quickly adds, "Everyone's fine," when he sees Blaine's worried look. "It's just...my dad was diagnosed with cancer few years ago. It's been in remission. It was stage one and he did everything the doctors asked. But he still has checkups to make sure it's still in remission. He checked out fine this time around, but I just get so worried leading up to these appointments."

"But you look so upset..." Blaine says, bewildered.

Kurt smiles at him reassuringly. "It's good news, really. But I miss my dad so much sometimes. It can be so hard to have to get news like this over the phone and not be able to hug him. So thank you for being my proxy."

"Anytime," Blaine smiles back and opens his arms for another hug. He pulls Kurt close and shuts his eyes, breathing him in.Okay, maybe it's not always harmless, but if I can help Kurt, and get to hold him, then watching him sometimes can't all be bad. And so what if there are some perks...

February 20, 2023

Blaine is shamelessly sitting on the bench in the closet, computer on his lap, typing up a report on one of his patients. It would be much more comfortable to sit at his desk with the computer at the correct height. Instead, Blaine hunches over the keyboard in his lap, his gaze bouncing between the hand-written notes propped on one thigh, the keyboard and the window in front of him.

Kurt often does yoga on Wednesday nights, but the exact time seems to vary based on whether Kurt has a dinner meeting with a client, a play rehearsal, or a light work day. The yoga can last anywhere from fifteen to forty-five minutes. Blaine doesn't want to miss it just because he can't always hear Kurt's key turning in the lock when he is concentrating on paperwork at his desk. So he suffers through the uncomfortable position and focuses on his work. Work is a great distraction from the creeping guilt that pokes around the edges of his mind, threatening to seep in and take over.

He is about three quarters of the way through the stack of reports when light floods Kurt's apartment. Kurt flits in and out of view as he hangs up his coat, puts leftovers in the refrigerator, then disappears down the hallway toward the bedroom and bathroom. Blaine glances up occasionally from his paperwork, determined to get as much work in as possible before the yoga begins and he loses all ability to concentrate.

Twenty minutes later, Kurt stands in front of the mirror in snug brown yoga pants and a form-fitting cream tank top. His hair is still wet from the shower and Blaine watches a bead of water slide down the side of Kurt's neck. His heart races as he imagines capturing the errant drop with his tongue.

Blaine dumps the computer and stack of papers off his lap and gives his full attention to Kurt, who is now bending perfectly in half from a standing position. His head touches his knees and he wraps his arms around his perfectly straight legs. It looks so effortless and graceful. Blaine imagines running his hands up and down those legs, gently squeezing the taut flesh in an effort to get Kurt to make some of those glorious sounds that sometimes drift through the wall.

Kurt transitions smoothly into a lunge and a delicious strip of skin appears as his tank top rides up his back. Soon he's on all fours, alternately rounding and arching his back in a tantalizing manner.Oh – I love that one. The ass-push.Blaine giggles and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing too loudly. He is ever mindful of how much noise travels through the mirror and the surrounding wall. Blaine realizes that inventing his own names for yoga positions is about as disastrous as that time he'd invented his own names for constellations to impress a guy on a date.I need to do some research online to find out what those things are actually called so I stop distracting myself with laughter. And stick to songwriting as a creative outlet.

But all thoughts stop when Kurt gracefully swings his body into the next move. It starts with Kurt pressing his shoulders to the ground with arms stretched out behind him and head tucked in. Then he lifts the rest of his body – everything but the shoulders – straight into the air. The tank top pools at Kurt's chest and the perfect lines of his tight abdominal muscles are on full display. He holds this pose for a few minutes and then slowly, carefully tilts his hips until his legs are stretched out over and behind his head and his ass is pointing up in the air.

I haven't seen him do that before. He must have learned that in class this week.Kurt attends yoga classes at a studio not far from the hospital. Blaine knows this because he once asked Kurt for a gym recommendation. Kurt had laughed airily and informed him that the loud clanging of weights, pained grunts, machines streaked with other people's sweat and blaring pop music were just not his style. That he much preferred the clean, quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the Lasting Light Yoga Studio.

Of course, Blaine didn't actually need a gym recommendation. He had already joined the YMCA, which was the only local gym that both catered to boxers and was in his price range. He had asked the question hoping to get Kurt on the subject of yoga. Making sure he and Kurt had plenty of innocent conversations about the things Blaine saw through the mirror lowered the chances that Blaine would reveal his shameful secret with an offhand remark about something he shouldn't know.

Kurt is bouncing his legs a bit, trying to force an even deeper stretch. He turns his head slightly, watching his body in the mirror with a hungry look. Blaine gasps at his unexpected erection.God, Kurt. What you do to me with just a look.Blaine palms his erection, suppressing a groan and hoping that Kurt's stretching might morph into something more. As if Kurt is reading his mind, he tugs furiously at the yoga pants. Without even breaking that impossible-looking pose, he slides the pants up and over his bare ass and then down and off his legs in one fluid motion. Blaine mirrors his actions, standing up slightly to pull his pants and underwear down and off without taking his eyes off Kurt's body.

Kurt's cock springs free and swings, dangling just inches above his face. Kurt watches it with interest as it begins to swell. Leaving his arms stretched out behind him, Kurt puckers his lips and blows gently. His dick jumps and grows with the attention, inching closer and closer to Kurt's lips. Kurt tilts his hips and lowers his legs another inch.

No, it's not possible. Only 2% of guys can do that,Blaine recalls from a long forgotten textbook just as Kurt's tongue darts out to lick off the beads of pre-come beading at the tip of his still-growing cock.

Experimentally, Blaine leans forward to see how close he can get his face to his crotch. He pushes himself past the point of the stretch becoming painful, pulls his cock toward his mouth and stretches his tongue as far as it will go. He's still short by at least a centimeter. His cock is aching for touch, teased by the sensation of heat from his tongue and panting breath. And he's missing the show.Damn.

Blaine straightens, looking again at the mirror. This time, he is fully prepared for anything that might happen on the Kurt Hummel show. He fishes out the bottle of lube from beneath the bench and dribbles some on his cock, hissing as the cold liquid hits his sensitive flesh. The lube quickly heats up as Blaine strokes slowly, eyes glued to the image before him.

Now fully erect, Kurt's cock is long enough for him to bury the first two inches fully in his mouth. Kurt's lips stretch around his own cock and his cheeks hollow slightly as he sucks gently, then licks further up the shaft. Kurt moves his hands to his lower back, pushing his body closer, and another inch of his cock disappears into his mouth.

Blaine can hear Kurt's muffled groans and whimpers faintly as they drift through the wall and his hand speeds up on his own cock. But all too soon he feels the tightening in his abdomen, so he stops stroking, gripping hard at the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. It's so much better when he and Kurt come at the same time. It helps him imagine that this is something they are doing together. Something that Kurt wants. Not something that he is stealing from his best friend.

Kurt still has one hand on his lower back, pushing his body and his cock firmly down and into his mouth. He wraps the other hand around the base of his cock, stroking in time with his bobbing head. His hips are quivering and the tendons in his neck are straining as he sucks and licks and strokes in earnest, moaning around his cock. His eyes dart to the mirror and he watches his lips stretch and slide as his cock pumps in and out.

Blaine is back to slow strokes on his cock, but he speeds up again when he sees Kurt's eyes lock with his.No, the mirror. He's watching himself in the mirror.Kurt looks away and throws his head back with a wordless shout, body tensing and spasming. Kurt's hips jerk back and his cock springs free from his lips. Come is spilling from his open mouth and still spurting from his pulsing cock, painting Kurt's face and neck with streams of white. Blaine tenses and feels his own release shoot hot into his hand as he chokes back his moan of pleasure.

Panting and already reaching for the towel at his feet, Blaine continues to watch Kurt in fascination. Kurt straightens his body and lowers his legs to the floor, then turns on his side to face the mirror. He grabs the abandoned yoga pants and lays them under his head to catch the rivulets of come dripping down his cheeks and neck. Staring at the mirror with steamy eyes, Kurt licks at the come on his face with a slow, languid sweep of his tongue. He pulls the thick white substance into his mouth and swallows hungrily, opening his mouth wide to show a few beads of white still left on his tongue.He's trying to kill me,thinks Blaine, as his oversensitive dick twitches painfully.

Kurt shifts to his hands and knees and crawls closer to the mirror, staring at himself with a seductive look. He runs a finger through the come and trails it down his chest. He practices a few pouts and sexy looks for a minute. Blaine can't help smiling at these antics, but is soon gasping again when Kurt holds a particularly smoking look, gathers up more come with his finger and slowly brings it to his lips. Kurt sucks the finger into his mouth and his face instantlydistorts into a grimace of disgust. He spits the mouthful into the yoga pants and leaps to his feet in one swift motion before prancing back toward the bathroom. Wondering what happened; Blaine sweeps a finger through his own come and licks it experimentally. He shudders.Yeah – it's pretty gross when it's cold.

February 21, 2023

Kurt opens the door before Blaine even knocks. "I could smell the delectable odor of Thai food wafting through the hallway," Kurt says in explanation as he grabs the takeout bag from Blaine's hand and brings it to the kitchen. Blaine toes off his shoes and follows.

Kurt had cancelled their regular morning coffee for an early meeting with a client. When Kurt texted him an hour ago –I'm soooo tired. I'm soooo hungry. But I don't feel like cooking because I'm soooo tired. Would you pretty please pick up some Thai on your way home and share it with me? –Blaine jumped at the chance to have dinner with his gorgeous friend.

They dance around each other in the kitchen, spooning food from the carryout containers onto plates and filling up glasses of water and wine. When they sink down into their chairs at the kitchen table, Kurt sighs and says, "At last." They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before falling into easy conversation.

Feeling satisfied with his meal, Blaine takes a mouthful of water and is just starting to swallow it when Kurt rolls his shoulders and tilts his neck with a wince. "Ow! I think I pulled a muscle last night."

Choking, Blaine spits his water halfway across the table.Smooth. At least it wasn't wine.

"Oh my God, Blaine! Are you okay?"

Still spluttering, Blaine manages to squeak out, "M'okay. Just swallowed wrong." When his coughing fit quiets and he gets his breathing back under control he asks, "I should be asking you the same question."

"What?" Kurt asks, but winces again when he shifts. "Yeah, the Advil is definitely wearing off. I think I pulled something, but I'm not sure."

"How did it happen?" Blaine asks, then immediately flushes red because heknowshow it happened.Idiot! Why did you ask that?

Thankfully, Kurt seems oblivious to Blaine's stammering. Nonchalantly he says, "Oh, I don't know. It was probably just bad posture. I tend to hunch over my sketchbook sometimes."

Blaine knows that isn't true. He's watches Kurt sit ramrod straight while he works time and again. But he's certainly not going to question Kurt's excuse. "That really sucks. If Advil helps, maybe you should take some more?"

"Yes, I'll go grab it right now." Kurt heads toward the bathroom and returns with two pills in his hand. He swallows them quickly and says, "It's too bad these are going to take at least an hour to kick in. Do you think I should put ice on it?"

Blaine sees an opportunity and decides to jump on it. "That might help. But you know what? I'm pretty good at massages. Would you like one?" he asks, heart pounding as he silently begs Kurt to say yes.

Kurt hesitates, biting his lip and looking down at the table. Blaine steadies himself for rejection as Kurt rolls his shoulders again and flexes them experimentally. He glances up at Blaine shyly and says, "Maybe a massage would be good."

They relocate to the living room and cast about uncertainly for the best way to position themselves. They finally settle on both sitting on the rug. Blaine leans back against the sofa with his legs stretched out on either side of Kurt, who sits cross-legged in front of him. Blaine feels the heat of Kurt's body between his thighs and he glances nervously at their reflections in the mirror. He pushes his hips back against the sofa to gain a little distance as he doesn't quite trust himself not to get hard. Thinking about anything other than what he's seen through that mirror, Blaine forces his focus onto Kurt's shoulders in front of him.

Blaine places tentative fingers onto Kurt's shoulders, running them slowly from his neck out to his arms. He rubs Kurt's shoulders gently for a moment before gripping them tightly and pushing his thumbs into the flesh, rubbing in sensual circles. Heart pounding and desire coursing through his veins, Blaine shifts his thumbs toward the back of Kurt's neck, rubbing up into the base of his skull and letting his fingertips brush into Kurt's hair.

It is dizzying, intoxicating to be this close to him, to feel his muscles beneath his hands. Blaine closes his eyes and breathes the smell of him in deep as he rubs slowly and sensually across Kurt's shoulders and down the top of his back. Kurt is making delicious mewls and moans of pleasure and Blaine can feel him loosen up beneath his hands. Blaine closes his eyes again and pictures rubbing into Kurt's naked back. His cock stirs and his eyes fly open.Don't think about that!Kurt groans in protest at the hesitation and Blaine continues rubbing a bit more methodically now.

When he reaches Kurt's lower back, he can feel the tension in his muscles. He presses a thumb into one particularly tight knot and Kurt keens, "Ooh, right there, that's the spot."

Blaine hears himself say, "I would think you would have more tightness in your shoulders and neck, and not in your lower back, if it was just from hunching over. Did you do something else?" Blaine cringes immediately.What possessed you to say that?

But Kurt remains completely relaxed under Blaine's touch. He absently replies, "Hmmm, maybe. I can't remember what it could be though." Pulling away from Blaine's legs, Kurt continues. "That's enough, by the way. Thanks. I feel much better."

Reluctantly, Blaine lifts his hands from Kurt's back and places them on his own thighs. Kurt moves to the sofa and slouches back with a sigh. As they sit in silence, Blaine finds his eyes drawn once more to the mirror. He looks at their reflections and Kurt meets his gaze in the glass.

As they look at each other in the mirror, Blaine asks something that has been on his mind for a long time. "Was that always here?" He regrets the question immediately. If Kurt put in the mirror himself, then he would have to know about the window on the other side. And Blaine can't imagine that his aunt would have wanted to spy on anyone. But if Kurt's first creepy neighbor put it in, how would he do it without Kurt's knowledge? It just didn't add up.

"Oh, I didn't put it in myself if that's what you mean. But it wasn't here when I first looked at the place. The owner of the building put it in at my request," Kurt answers lazily, closing his eyes and stretching out on the couch. Blaine turns to face him, eyes raking over Kurt's peaceful face and rumpled shirt. Kurt's response brought up more questions than it answered.

Blaine is still trying out different follow-up questions in his mind when Kurt continues. "There was another apartment I was looking at on the other side of town. It had a big mirror all across one wall, and I really liked it. This building is in a better neighborhood and the apartment has that great view, but they wanted a lot more rent, and they didn't have that incredible mirror."

"So you bargained for it?" Blaine asks curiously.

"Well, you have seen how good I am at bargaining," Kurt says coyly, opening his eyes and raising his head to look at Blaine. "I have to use my acting skills for something useful, you know."

"Still, it seems like a rather odd request. Most people would ask for utilities to be included or something," Blaine insists, certain there is more to this story.

"Well, I could have bought a mirror and installed it myself, but they can be quite expensive. So I thought I would ask. I probably would have picked this apartment anyway."

"So the owner agreed just like that?" Blaine persisted.

Kurt glances to the side, remembering. "Well, now that you mention it, she didn't agree right away. Mrs. Morrison left me in the apartment on my own while she went downstairs to get a copy of the lease agreement for me to review. While she was gone I met Sandy. You know, the really creepy neighbor? But he didn't seem creepy at the time, just very friendly." Blaine feels chills run down his spine as Kurt continues his story, happily unaware of Blaine's growing horror. "We were talking in the hallway when Mrs. Morrison came back and I asked about the mirror. She kind of brushed me off in person, but a week later I got a text from her suggesting I come back to see the improvements." Kurt smiles and gestures at the mirror. "And there it was. I was quite thrilled, so I signed the lease agreement on the spot."

February 26, 2023

Blaine is certain that Sandy must have had the mirror installed and that the next sub-letter, creepy neighbor number two, had also watched Kurt.And now so am I – creepy neighbor number three.Blaine pushes that thought aside and decides he needs to find out more about what might have happened.

Blaine calls his father and after exchanging a few pleasantries, guides the conversation to the sub-lease agreement Aunt Becca had with the man who had lived in the apartment when Kurt moved in. "So, I was wondering," Blaine begins hesitantly before rushing through his question. "Does the lease agreement allow a sub-letter to make modifications to the apartment?"

His father reacts with immediate anger. "You've been there less than two months, Blaine! What did you do? Are you throwing wild parties? Did someone break a wall?"

"What? No, nothing," Blaine splutters. He had not anticipated the accusation. "I haven't modified anything; I'm asking about if the sub-letters ever did."

"Why? Did they?" his father booms, the anger now laced with traces of concern. "Is there something wrong with the apartment? Do I need to fly up there and look at it?"

"No – no. Nothing's wrong with it."

His father sighs in frustration. "Then why are you asking about this?"

"Um – well," Blaine starts, inventing what he hopes is a plausible cover story. "I'm asking for my neighbor. He sub-lets, too, and he wanted to know what our agreement says. He thought if we allowed modifications it would help him bring it up with the person he sub-lets from," he lies.

"What does he want to do?"

"Built in bookcases, I think. I didn't really ask."

"Oh. Well, I can't really help you or your neighbor there. There isn't anything about that in the agreement that I know of. And I would turn down anyone who requests it. You never know what kind of nightmare that can turn into."You have no idea, thinks Blaine as his father continues. "It's the person whose name is on the lease who is responsible for the apartment, not the sub-letter. Just tell your neighbor to buy freestanding bookcases. They're better than making an investment in something you can't take with you when you leave."

"Yeah. I guess you're right," Blaine concedes. He steers the discussion to Cooper, relieved that his brother's antics always provide a good segue out of a messy conversation.