That first night Kurt stayed a long while after they'd finished supper chatting with Blaine, sitting one in front of the other across the kitchen island.

They talked about their lives, their daily routines, their hobbies and interests, musical preferences, actors and movies they have a burning passion for, covering every silly, trivial topic they could come up with. They laughed and stabbed each other with snarky remarks and witty comebacks, always within the limits of friendly mockery; it was weird but now that it was an agreed behavior, it felt like they weren't allowed to be so rough, being careful not to piss the other one too much, so there was still a slight tension in the air, almost unperceivable.

They were cackling at something they had said when Kurt's phone started ringing on the nightstand, in his room.

"Shoot!" he climbed off the stool and ran to his door. The smiling face of his brunette friend with a mustard beret and a cheeky smile was flashing on the screen, the name Rachel vibrating in his hand. "Heeellooo," he chirped, leading the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Kurt," she greeted and he could totally picture her bobbing her head and her eyes downcast and then darting to the ceiling as she played cool. "I was just calling in to make sure you were alright."

"Yes, Rachel, I am alright, very well settled on my new house," he doubted at the last word, since it was certainly not a home yet. "What about you two?"

She started going on and on about the details of their new apartment which was apparently, bigger than it was in the pictures and there was a new ice cream shop in the corner that brightened the street so it didn't look as awful; it was still decent.

"Well, that's great, Rach," he said, stretching out on his bed to glance back to the kitchen, where Blaine was still sitting, waiting for him. "What do you say if we have lunch together tomorrow? You don't start NYADA for another two weeks or something like that, right?" he asked.

"A week and a half, but yes," she certified. "And okay, I guess we could have lunch, Finn has to go do some shopping anyway," she waved her hand. "Do you want me to go?"

"No, no, I'll go," he stumbled in a hurry. "I doubt Blaine will want yet more loud strangers in his house."

"Blaine?" Rachel asked. "Oh! Your new roommate, tell me what's he lik—"

"Yeah, Rachel, look, we'll talk tomorrow, okay? I'll be there at noon or something, yes?" he cut her, his foot tapping repeatedly on the floor. "I'm sorry but we were just finishing dinner and..."

"It's okay, Kurt, I understand," she accepted and Kurt was relieved not to find any irritation nor stabbing in her voice. "See you tomorrow."

"Same, bye," he said, ungluing the cell phone from his ear and dropping it once more on top of the little, dark table next to his bed. He glimpsed at it, taking a deep breath and standing up only to find Blaine's face peeking in on his doorway.

"Sorry," he apologized too quickly, stepping backwards immediately.

"No, it's okay," Kurt replied, with an amused smile.

"I was just wondering if you wanted a cup of coffee or tea or... something," he said, swallowing somewhat nervously. Kurt frowned, had he done something wrong? He studied Blaine as he looked at him, eyes wide and with that constant glimmer of hope and innocence and kindness. He was resting his arm –and Kurt couldn't help noticing that he had a lovely highlight of muscles- on the threshold, stroking the wood with his thumb.

"I'm pretty full, maybe tomorrow," he offered lamely. Blaine nodded with the softest "Okay", to which Kurt responded with a gentle smile. They went back to the kitchen, Blaine leading the way. When he sat back on his stool, settling his elbows on the shiny surface of the kitchen island, Kurt decided to stand next to it.

He had no idea what was up with Blaine's new attitude, but he chose not to ask. However, he couldn't quite think about it in that instant because Blaine was right there and the silence would start being awkward any moment now.

"So, do you have a boyfriend or something?" he asked because, strangely, it was the first thing that came to his mind and the other face snapped right up.

"What? Why would you assume that..." he said, clearly waiting for Kurt to interrupt him with an apology or some sort of explanation. But no such thing happened. "That I'm gay?"

Kurt watched him, frowning and holding back his laughter. If he wasn't sure, he would've felt like crap, because perhaps Blaine was acting that way because he knew Kurt was gay and thought he had a crush on him but... He knew it wasn't that way. "Well, aren't you?" Kurt replied, raising his eyebrows. Blaine was staring at him with parted lips and squinted eyes. "I overheard you and your friend talking on the subway today and he sounded pretty straight forward with you," he quirked an eyebrow again, recalling Sebastian's sultry voice. "Or with me, for that matter," he chuckled.

"Oh..." Blaine uttered. He didn't look particularly comfortable. "Huh, no, I don't. I broke up with my... my last one a couple of weeks ago," he shrugged, focusing on stabbing a remaining broccoli on his plate with the fork fiddling between his fingers.

"What happened?" he poked. He was quite sure this didn't concern him at all, but the other boy looked so miserable so suddenly, he couldn't help but to feel immensely intrigued.

"I cheated."

Kurt raised his eyebrows yet again and further. He couldn't help but to feel a twinge in his chest, something he identified as disappointment. "Wow."

"What, now you're judging me?" Blaine asked, this time back to jab in a too defensive tone, face straight in Kurt's direction.

"I don't know which were your reasons for cheating and I'm pretty sure you don't need anyone on your back because of it, but yeah, I kind of am," he admitted, nodding his head, still standing a few feet away from the island.

"Great, just what I needed," he muttered, tossing his napkin with unnecessary force to his plate, though Kurt sensed a certain weakness in the movement and he could have sworn he'd heard Blaine's voice break towards the end of the hushed sentence.

"Was it with Sebastian?" he heard himself say, not knowing whether where it had come from nor why on Earth this kept on happening, why he couldn't stop himself from being a nosy asshole.

"What?" Blaine squinted madly, shocked. "Okay, first of all, that's none of your concern," he almost yelled.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you guys seem to have a weird relationship," he said, genuinely sorry, explaining his point of view, but not coming off very nicely.

"What do you know about our relationship?" he emphasized, spelling out the words.

"I told you already, I overheard you talking on the subway," he attempted to explain once more.

"Maybe you should learn not to eavesdrop," Blaine said, glaring at him harshly.

Kurt stared at him dead in the eye. He leaned forward and pressed his hands on the edge of the island countertop.

"Maybe you should learn to stick your head out of your ass," his voice was dripping venom now as his eyelids relaxed and his jaw clenched. Something shifted in Blaine's posture. "And also, why are you so defensive about people knowing you are gay?"

"I just don't like when people assume. It's another way of being prejudiced," he replied, cold tone still there, clear and unconcealed, never taking his eyes off of Kurt.

"Don't you think that's a bit extreme?" he shrugged imperceptibly. "People who assume might have their reasons; that doesn't automatically make them dicks," he continued. "People assume all the time."

"Exactly," Blaine simply uttered, mirroring Kurt's bearing.

"Well, I'm sorry then, I didn't mean to call you out on being that much of a gay," he opened his eyes, bobbing his head. "Especially since you actually are gay, but okay," he shrugged, feigning innocence once more. "I'm going to bed now, goodnight."

His hands left the counter and swayed to his sides as he sauntered back to his room, trying not to mumble under his breath.

He closed the door behind him, trying to forget that Blaine was still in the same floor he was. He walked in circles in front of his bed, rubbing his temples and resting his eyes. He was tired again, why did he feel so drained?

He reached for his suitcase, which he had yet an important part of left to unpack, looking for his pajamas.

He hadn't even finished taking his shirt off when the door burst open and someone –clearly Blaine- strode in.

"Gee, have you ever heard of knocking?" he said, fumbling with his shirt, nervously trying to cover his bare chest and put it back on. Only the nerves increased at the sight of Blaine's openly fixed gaze on him, frowning and slightly gaping. "Yes?" he hissed so menacingly. The other man's eyes flew to Kurt's face, shaken awake from his enthrallment.

"You have no idea of who I am, Kurt," he pointed at him, moving a step closer in.

"You sound like a mobster, are you threatening me?" he tilted his head to the side, daring and brushing the wrinkles off of the t-shirt he used to sleep.

"Goddammit, Kurt, no—"

"Then don't point your finger at me," he swatted his finger away calmly. "A cheater is a cheater, don't matter what the circumstances are," he said. And he regretted it.

As soon as the words left his mouth he noticed, beneath Blaine's confused frown, a look of guilt that surfaced painfully.

"I'm not excusing myself for that," he retorted and his words were so firm and cold that they surprised Kurt, dissimilating from the pitying shades from before.

"Okay, fine, because you don't owe me any explanations," he crossed his arms.

"You're so..." Blaine groaned, curling his fingers and leading his hands to his forehead.

"Yes?" Kurt grinned at him.

"Ugh, so pretty!" he growled. He looked pleased with himself to see how Kurt's face contorted, entirely discombobulated. But the smug expression vanished in the midst of all the anger and annoyance. "So infuriating and so pretty and so snarky and frustrating, that's what you are," he pointed at him again, taking advantage of Kurt's silence. "Yeah," he nodding, smirking like a five year old who had just won one of those absurdly trivial and childish arguments.

He turned around and exited the room, slamming the door.

Kurt was still gaping, standing in the middle of the room. He couldn't get his limbs to move, nor to close his mouth or to swallow.

"And exasperating!" he could hear Blaine's voice go on somewhere far in the apartment. "That's it, that's the word," he kept on going, quieter this time, without intending Kurt to listen anymore, though he still did since the walls were, apparently, sort of thin.

"What the fuck?" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head, still not accomplishing to turn around and get into his bed.

"I heard that!" Blaine called back from the other room, snapping him out of his haze. He rolled his eyes and started untucking the sheets and quilts, energetically molding the pillows.

Okay, the walls were definitely and awfully thin.