Why won't you text or call me back? -B

Kurt looked at his phone, sitting back in his bed at Dalton Sunday night. He turned the phone in his hands and sighed, looking across the room at nothing in particular as his mind wandered. He really did want to talk to Blaine, to just go back to before, but he didn't know if he could. Part of him wanted to just return to being friends with Blaine since he missed the easy back and forth they had. Another part of him knew that he couldn't just go back to being friends with Blaine. Kurt had a taste of something more with Blaine, and it would be impossible to ignore that. Finally, there was the part of Kurt that just wanted to hide the whole affair under the covers - which included Blaine. Put Blaine out of his mind by putting Blaine out of his life. It wasn't a big part of him, but it was the part that was the most incessant. It would be the easiest, though most cowardly, thing to do by not dealing with it.

Trent came in, lugging his weekend duffle bag as he returned from visiting his own parents. He smiled over at Kurt and Kurt smiled back, offering him a small hello.

"So how's the drama?"

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, "Not any better really. I don't know what to do."

"Welcome to the club. My girlfriend asked me where I thought our relationship was going this weekend..." Trent said, tossing his bag on his bed and sitting down on the edge.

"Uh oh..." Kurt grinned as he said it.

"... The best part of it was that she asked through the door as I was doing number two."

Kurt burst into laughter, falling back on his bed. Leave it to Trent to cheer him up.

Trent couldn't help but laugh either at his own situation, and once the two boys had collected themselves, Kurt asked what had happened after that.

"I told her I loved her and saw us together forever of course." Trent smirked.

"Mmmm... sweet." Kurt acknowledged. How desperately he wanted that. Was a little bit of romance too much to ask for in life?

"And then I finished up on the toilet." Trent added. Heterosexual boys couldn't seem to stay romantic for long... hell, the only other gay guy he knew couldn't be romantic at all. Maybe Kurt was just an anomaly among men - one that actually enjoyed romance.

They talked for awhile longer, discussing their visits home and also Regionals - which would be next weekend. Kurt was auditioning tomorrow for a solo and had picked something more top 40 to sing, since he had noticed the council, and the Warblers themselves, preferred pop hits and while he didn't dislike that kind of music, it also wasn't usually in his vocal line-up.

As he crawled into bed that night, he looked at that last text message. Just stared at it, perplexed at how to handle it. Maybe that's what he needed to say.

I don't know what to say, so I haven't responded. -K

The response was immediate.

I would rather you tell me to eat shit than say nothing to me. -B

Kurt smiled, despite himself.

I wouldn't want you to eat feces. -K

You know what I meant. -B

But I'm glad you still care about me enough to not want me to eat shit. -B

That's not fair. -K

What? My eating shit or you not caring? -B

I do care. -K

You've got a funny way of showing it lately. -B

I've just been conflicted. -K

Clearly. -B

Can we talk about it later? I'm still not really sure what I need to say, and my schedule is busy this week with Regionals practice. -K

I guess... just don't leave me hanging. -B

Just promise you won't flip out on anymore teachers or hockey players. -K

You heard about that? -B

Yes. Please be good. I'll talk to you later. -K

Okay.. bye... -B

Kurt sighed and set his phone on the nightstand, pulling the covers up to his neck. The hard part was done, now he had to come up with a dialogue for later.

On Monday, Kurt was trying to keep caught up on his homework after a long school day, an exhausting audition, and then group number practice for Regionals. He was singing along with Pavarotti until the little canary stopped singing back to him. When he looked over his own heart stilled, and several hours later and a trip to the veterinarian later, Pavarotti was officially pronounced dead from a stroke.

It made him sadder than he thought it would. Aside from his mother, he hadn't really dealt with death a lot in his life, and even though the little bird was hardly as important in his life as his mother was, it brought back all the feelings from when she had died.

"I... just... feel... so... awful..." He sobbed into the phone that night. He hadn't gone back to his room, instead he was curled up on one of the library couches, clutching his phone like a lifeline. He had called the first person he thought of - and whether or not that was a good decision would have to wait until later.

"Kurt... Kurt... birds don't live that long. Just be happy it was quick." Blaine tried to soothe him from the other end.

"But I... I was supposed to take care of him..." wailed Kurt.

"Fucking tailgater!" Swore Blaine, slightly distant sounding as if he had pulled the phone away from his mouth to say it before his voice was clear again and directed to Kurt, "Listen Kurt... it wasn't your fault. Shit happens. You know that."

A choked hiccup forced its way up Kurt's throat as a part of his sobbing. "Are you... driving?"

"Yes." Blaine responded, and Kurt noticed the hum of engines in the background for the first time during the call. He was having a hard time making sentences still, just crying into the phone and whimpering about what an awful person he was.

"You... *hic* shouldn't drive *whimper* and phone."

Blaine tried to calm him, fruitlessly, for the next hour on the phone until Kurt noticed the background noises were gone. When he was less upset, he would have to scold Blaine for being on his phone while driving, but right now he was just happy to hear his voice. Happier still when it was calling to him from across the room instead of over the phone.

"Kurt..."

Kurt looked up to see Blaine there, at the entrance of the library, holding his helmet in his hand and a tub of ice cream in the other. He made a soft sob, though this one was from joy - not that it was indistinguishable from any of the other sobs, and quickly rubbed his face, no doubt red and streaked with tears.

Blaine walked over, setting his helmet on the table, as well as the ice cream tub - chocolate cherry cheesecake ice cream... how he knew Kurt. Sitting beside Kurt, Blaine opened his arms up. Kurt didn't need any more of an invitation, quickly huddled against Blaine and crying softly into his shirt while Blaine rubbed Kurt's back gently.

"Shh... it's okay."

"You... *hiccup*... were driving to see me." Kurt murmured into Blaine's shirt, inhaling that blend of cigarettes, cinnamon, and raspberry. That Blaine smell was so calming and he wondered if the smell of cigarettes were just as addictive as smoking them. Maybe he needed a nicotine patch.

"Well obviously." Blaine was probably rolling his eyes while he said it, though Kurt's face was still buried in Blaine's shirt so he couldn't tell.

They sat there for another twenty minutes, until Kurt had managed to calm himself back down and pull himself off Blaine, looking at the Rorschach tear print he had left on Blaine's shirt with guilt.

"You know I don't give a shit about that right?" Blaine mused, following Kurt's eyes.

"I know... I just... it's just easy for me to feel awful lately... about anything."

Blaine's hand was still gently rubbing circles on Kurt's back, and Kurt could have let him do that forever had it not been for the pool of melted crystals from the ice cream pooling around the tub on the table. "We should eat that."

Blaine nodded, pulling out two small spoons from his jacket pocket. Maybe he had been a boy scout at one point - always prepared. Kurt pulled off the lid and set the ice cream in his lap, wincing at the cool touch on his thighs, but then eagerly scooping up the treat and feeding himself after taking a spoon from Blaine.

Blaine had the occasional bite, but seemed to just be happy to watch Kurt eat. Kurt hadn't had any supper, since he had gone from practice, to his dorm room, to the clinic, to the library. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he had the first bite of the ice cream and now he was greedily downing as much of the ice cream as he could.

"You're eating like a refugee." Blaine noted.

Kurt ignored him, continuing to stuff his face until it felt like his stomach was so full that he was just filling up his esophagus. He was definitely eating his feelings. Kurt leaned back in his seat and rubbed his stomach with a satisfied groan after Blaine took away the now empty tub and put it back on the table.

Blaine's hand never stopped rubbing his back, even though it must have been exhausted from the tedious motion. His head had dropped to the side to lean against the top of the couch, just watching Kurt steadily, and waiting.

"I can't believe he's dead..."

Blaine sighed, as if that wasn't what he was expecting Kurt to say, but he went with it.

"Does it remind you of your mom?"

Kurt nodded, "Yes... brought back a whole lot of the emotions about her... I don't know why... I mean, I get how crazy I'm being. He's a bird... but..."

"But that's fine Kurt. Have you told the other Warblers?"

Kurt shook his head. "No... I'll tell them tomorrow in our pre-class practice Wes has scheduled for us. I don't know how to tell them though."

"Sing."

Kurt looked towards Blaine questioningly.

"You always express yourself best in song."

Kurt pursed his lips together, considering that. It was true, and it might help him feel better to be able to get his emotions out through music.

"What would I sing?"

Blaine smiled over to Kurt, and right now, it felt like things were as they were before, as they should be. He started suggesting songs about birds.

"Free Bird by the Lynyrd Skynyrd, Foo Fighters have Learn to Fly... Oh! Shake Your Tail Feathers... The Beatles did Blackbird..."

The Beatles... his mom loved the Beatles. "Blackbird... Blackbird is perfect."

Blaine smiled over again, that sweet smile he used only for Kurt and his mother. "Great. Now let's get you to bed so you're not totally exhausted when you perform tomorrow morning."

"What about you?" Kurt squeaked, suddenly very aware of how late it was and how long Blaine would have to drive in order to get back.

Blaine shrugged, "Once you're okay, I'll go home."

Kurt shook his head, "Absolutely not. You drove all this way... call your mom. You can bunk with me... but no funny business."

Blaine's brow went up, but he nodded and as they walked back to Kurt's room, Blaine told his mother what he was doing and to let McKinley know that he might be late tomorrow morning.

"May as well see you sing." He noted as he finished off the call.

Kurt smiled and snuck Blaine into his room, past Trent who was snoring again. He gave Blaine a set of extra pajamas and then went to put on his own in the bathroom. He wasn't sure how they were both going to fit into the single bed, but right now, he wasn't averse to cuddles. His heavy heart needed them.

So they snuggled up together, Blaine holding Kurt snugly against him as a little spoon and both were soon soundly asleep. It was the best sleep Kurt had had in the past couple weeks.

In the morning, Trent was polite as ever, and to his credit, didn't ask any hard questions. The three of them managed to get ready and then went down to the Warbler's common room where Kurt announced Pavarotti's death and sang. The rest of the Warbler's joined in, and Blaine kept his hand on Kurt's back supportively.

"Due to Warbler Kurt's announcement, I am hereby cancelling this morning's practice so all Warblers may have the opportunity to grieve. I will see you all after classes today." Wes banged his gavel.

Kurt breathed in a sigh of relief, quite happy for the reprieve from practice. His eyes were still sore from the mixture of too many tears and not enough sleep, and he wanted to be able to see Blaine off.

He took Blaine to the cafeteria first where they filled up on baked goods, Kurt still excusing his poor food choices on emotional eating.

"Can I talk to you...?" Blaine asked hesitantly as they finished up.

Kurt nodded. He had to know this was coming, even though he wasn't prepared. He led Blaine back to his room, grateful that Trent was out.

As they sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, Blaine set a gentle hand on Kurt's knee. "Mercedes talked to me... called it a gay-vention... I think it was short for gay intervention or something... wasn't as bigoted as I thought it was going to be."

Kurt tensed up, gently biting his lower lip. He had told Mercedes everything... in what he thought had been confidence.

"She told me what you told her... and Kurt... I never wanted to hurt you. I... fuck..." Blaine shook his head, "Sorry... I just... I want to get this right."

Kurt nervously put his own hand on top of Blaine's, "It's okay... I'm listening."

Blaine nodded and pushed forth, "You know I'm scared about relationships... after seeing what happened with my mom and dad..."

Kurt wanted to say that not all relationships were like that. Most weren't. All he had to do was look at his dad and his mom or his dad and Carol to know that... but he kept quiet, wanting Blaine to feel comfortable speaking.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want one."

Kurt took in a slight breath, feeling a little light headed as he began to see what was going on here, what Blaine was going to say.

Blaine's eyes kept themselves locked with Kurt's, "Kurt. I have been in love with you for the past two years, well before you even knew who I was. People think I freaked out on a kid last year in cooking class because he got egg on me... it was because he caught me looking at you and suggested that I had a crush. I was too afraid to want to be outed like that, and didn't want you to find out either because I didn't think you'd like me. I flipped out on a kid in English last year because he made an insult about you being out and proud and that where he came from that you would be beaten for that, and pretended it was because he tried to correct me..."

Oh wow... that was both... unexpected and surprisingly hot.

"... I didn't need to go by your house that Sunday morning I saw you going to the hospital... I had driven by there a few times before just to get a glance at you and was driving by again in hopes of seeing you... and I took the chance to help you out because I wanted to be close to you."

Wait... Blaine had said he was in love with him...

"When you dragged me to that closet... it was all my fucking dreams come true. I never wanted to push for more before that because I didn't want to scare you off like Karofsky had. I didn't want to be that kind of asshole."

Blaine loved him?

"And I get it... you were just taking me there to save me from Rachel and I took advantage of that... I'm sorry Kurt... I just... I miss you and I'm sorry I pushed that all on you. But I do want you... I have for so long... and I know it's creepy... all that, but you should know..."

"You love me?"

Blaine nodded without hesitation, shrugging up his shoulders as he did, "Ridiculous right? I mean I - OOPH!"

Kurt launched himself at Blaine, pinning him back against the bed and pressing their mouths together. For a split second, Blaine didn't reciprocate, seeming surprised at the sudden attack, but his lips pushed back against Kurt's and his hands wrapped themselves around Kurt's back after that second of pause.

When he needed to breath again, he pulled back, sucking back the air. Blaine stayed back on the bed, looking dreamily up at Kurt and licking over his lips once the contact had been lost.

"Soo... that was confusing... but good, definitely good." Blaine stated, grinning like a fool at Kurt who was now searching Blaine's eyes.

"It wasn't. I... I love you too." He wondered why he was so much more hesitant to admit it then Blaine had been. He was definitely sure about it.

"Mmm..." Blaine purred, his strong, stable hands grasping Kurt around the waist firmly, but gently. "So then... want to be my official make out partner?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "If by make out partner, you mean boyfriend, then yes I do."

Blaine chuckled, pulling Kurt towards him possessively and whispering into his ear, breath hot against Kurt's neck, "My boyfriend."

Kurt had missed all his morning classes that day, lounging with Blaine in his room, sharing languid kisses, and then finally getting dressed in his Dalton uniform and escorting Blaine out from Dalton, hand in hand. He had to serve lunch detentions because of his unexcused absences from morning classes, but he didn't care in the slightest.

The rest of the week was hard though.

Constant Warbler practices, even though he got chosen as a singer in a duet, studying for mid-term exams, and being away from Blaine.

They texted as much as they could, Blaine letting him know that the McKinley Glee club was trying to make their own songs to sing at Regionals without much success.

.... though Slutana did do a very good song about Abs'n'Lips called Trouty Mouth. -B

Oh wow! I wish I was there! -K

I wish you were here too. Right on my lap. -B

Kurt groaned. Their texts were no longer very PG-13, though really they never had been since Blaine had always sent him some of the most lewd jokes known to man, but now the lewdness was because Blaine seemed to feel free to make suggestive comments.

He had to remember to thank Mercedes.

Any free time he had was spent decorating a casket and tombstone for Pavarotti, who was currently frozen in another Warbler's mini fridge in their dorm until after Regionals when Kurt would get the chance to bury him.

It bugged him that he would be competing against Blaine at Regionals. He teased that he didn't think their love could withstand the competition, but really it did worry him. He didn't know if the Warbler's were good enough to win or not, and he didn't think he could cope if the New Directions got to go to New York and he didn't.

But he didn't have much time to worry and the Friday night before Regionals, Kurt was curled up against Blaine on his couch at home as they watched a movie. He had told his dad earlier in the week about their new relationship status and the response was simple:

"No more sleeping in the same room."

Kurt had agreed, though his dad had to know that there were enough moments they were on their own, and places they could run off to, that his dad wouldn't have control over. So on Friday night when they had the house to themselves as his parents were out on a date, and Finn was out with Puck, he was surprised at how Blaine wasn't taking advantage of the situation and dragging him up to his bedroom. Instead they were cuddled on the couch watching Rent - not that Kurt was complaining.

But Blaine was clearly distracted throughout the movie, so instead of singing along to La Vie Boheme, Kurt asked if he was alright.

"Hmm.. just... some court stuff today with my father... distracted."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand in his. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Blaine sighed and looked to Kurt, "He's just being an asshole... trying to withhold spousal support from my mom as they go through the divorce... trying to convince her to convince me to take back my statement."

"Your mom told him to go to hell right?"

Blaine laughed with delight as Kurt swore and then nodded, "Yes... not like that... I mean, she's always been overly polite with him even though he's never deserved it, but she very diplomatically said to go to hell."

"Blaine... maybe you should see a counselor about all of it..."

Blaine's hand went cold in his own and he could see Blaine's gaze become distant, not looking at anything in particular, "No... I don't want to. Besides..." He refocused his sights on Kurt, "I have you."

Kurt smiled warmly and rested his head back against Blaine's shoulder. They had each other anyhow, for what it was worth.

"Are you alright?" Blaine was asking, hands holding each one of Kurt's hands as his eyes looked imploringly at Kurt. They were standing outside, in a parking lot, Kurt in his Dalton uniform and Blaine in his New Directions outfit for regionals.

"Yes... no... I really wanted to win..." Kurt sniffed, holding back his tears as he looked back to Blaine. The New Directions had won, and while Kurt was happy for his old teammates, happy for Blaine, he was sad for himself.

Blaine smiled gently and pulled Kurt into his arms, "Well... how about I beat the shit out of Karofsky and you could come back to McKinley?"

Kurt laughed, though it was muffled into Blaine's shirt.

"I know... I know... 'don't do that' you're going to say." Kurt felt Blaine's chest decompress as he sighed. "I just miss having you around there... even more now. Sex in the locker room would be totally hot."

Kurt gave Blaine a small, playful punch to the side and lifted his head back up to meet Blaine's gaze. "I'd come back... if I knew it would be safe... but I don't want you in juvie or anything on my account. I read in an article that conjugal visits are a myth."

Blaine laughed now, "What if I got a hitman?"

"No."

"A could set up a trap..."

"No."

"I've got it! Poison!"

"Blaine! No!"

Blaine sighed again in exasperation and Kurt just shook his head. "Please at least try to be a good boy for me?"

"What am I? A puppy?"

"Yes. The cutest one around." Kurt teased, receiving a small smack on the butt from Blaine. Why, oh, why did that turn him on?

"Hey! Romeo and Romeo! Come on, celebration at Breadstix - you're invited of course Kurt!" Mercedes yelled at them from across the parking lot they were standing in.

The boys smiled to one another and walked to Kurt's car, hand in hand. Though they didn't go straight to Breadstix but to a park on the outskirts of Lima. Blaine grabbed a shovel from the trunk and Kurt took the little casket, Pavarotti inside, the tombstone he had made, and a single red rose. They were going to say goodbye to the little canary.

Kurt sniffed, and let a few tears fall during the burial. To his credit, Blaine didn't swear or make light of the situation, grabbing Kurt's hand to hold in his once Pavarotti was in the ground and Kurt had said his goodbyes. The rest of the Warblers had declined the invitation to the makeshift funeral - most having plans with their families immediately following the competition, while the rest told Kurt outright that having a funeral for a bird was a little weird. He respected their honesty... that's about all he could respect right now.

Thankfully Blaine was there, and as they held hands on the way back to the car, Blaine spoke softly.

"I really do love you... you know."

Kurt managed a weak smile. It was the second time Blaine had said it, and Kurt thought to himself that he'd never tire of hearing it ever.

"I love you too."