Blaine surveyed the outfits he had placed on his bed carefully.  Was the yellow too much?  Was the navy too subdued?  Was the red… too red?  Did he want to stand out or be classy?  Was it even possible to be both?

With a sigh he glanced back to his computer, switching the song that had been playing as he decided it was too melancholic.  He didn't want sad.  Nor did he want anything excessively chipper he decided as he switched onto the next song after that one when the rush of drums and guitars picked up immediately.  Something serious… but heartfelt.  He needed that.

The door clicked, and without looking up, Blaine knew it was Santana.  Only she had a key after all, and she was no doubt there to check on his progress.  Sure enough, she announced herself not a moment later by means of a hushed, “Oh my… what the hell….?”.

His room was a mess, more so than normal anyhow.  Outfits that he had decided were a no were on the floor, notes pinned to the walls all over the place, and in his haste he had managed to throw a pair of underwear which now hung from the light bulb on the ceiling, providing a bit of ambiance to the otherwise too bright room.

“I'm trying to decide on an outfit.”

“Oh.  Is that all.  Here I thought a tornado passed through your room and your room alone.  Really though… does it take that much effort?  You could have probably put a bow on your dick and it would have sufficed.”

Blaine sighed.  “No… no… I want to… I want to make sure he gets it…”  Again he turned, switching the song.  Too plain.

“Well don't bother.  He's gone.”

Blaine glanced up from his clothing and to Santana, eyes wide.  “What?  Gone?  Gone where?  When's he back?”

“He dropped out.  Quinn just told me.  He's going back home to live with his dad until the fall I guess.”

Blaine let his jaw hang open, spinning in place as he looked over his ramshackle room.  The outfits, the music, the money tucked to the side for a bouquet, the choreography moves pinned to the wall… it had all been part of his planning for Kurt.  He wanted Kurt to know that he saw him as more, much more, than an easy ride.  True he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted, but he knew it included Kurt…

“Why would he drop out?  He's captain of the Sirens… the lead in every play… does well in all his classes…”

“Apparently the cherub had a series of epiphanies and they couldn't wait until after you got down on one knee.”  Santana hummed, poking through Blaine's playlist until something bouncy came on.  “Good news is that apparently he likes you.  Probably would have said yes to whatever the hell you were planning on asking him.”

“Well that's fucking great…..”  Blaine growled, swiping the clothes on his bed aside and plopping himself down.  “.... now what…”

“Now you find someone new to knock knees with?  I don't know.”

“Why would he just… go… why not stick it out for the rest of the semester….”

“Hey though!  Good news is that the Sirens just lost their major player!  We could totally score some first place spots.”

“Doesn't matter to me Santana….”

“Really?  You bang twice and you're going to sulk like it's the end of the world?”

Blaine shrugged his shoulders up.  “It wasn't just…”  He broke his statement up with a sigh.  How could he ever hope to explain how he felt when even he couldn't come up with the words to describe his feelings?  There was some kind of connection, a line, a tie that seemed to bind him to Kurt invisibly.  “... he wasn't just a random hook up Santana.”

“Uh huh… Hey, can I have this gum?”

Blaine just nodded, staring off into the fibers of the carpet as Santana helped herself to several other items on his desk.  Did he just give up now?  It would seem pretty damned weird to pursue Kurt to anyone looking at them.  Their relationship had been more angry than kind, and the extent of that kindness had been limited to the bedroom.  He'd probably look like some kind of stalker if he tried.  But he also couldn't deny what he felt.

“Where does his dad live Santana?”

There was a pop as Santana's gum bubble that she had been working on covered her lips and she pulled the sticky, pink goo back into her mouth with the edges of her teeth.  “Oh no.  You're not running out to his house and going all crazy there.  Burt would pull out his shotgun.”

Blaine shook his head.  “I wasn't going to go out there… but I thought.. maybe… I could call him there?”

Santana rolled her eyes and slid into the chair in front of Blaine's computer.  “How about I just add him for you on facebook?”

“That'd be a start.”  Blaine said softly, perking up just a little with the knowledge that he could continue his connection, however minutely, to Kurt in some way.

“His dad's kind of a papa bear by the way.  I'm not kidding about the shotgun.”

Blaine forced up a smile, trying to conjure up an image of what Kurt's dad must look like.  The shotgun threw him for a loop though as he pictured an older version of Kurt in the latest style.  There was no way a shotgun fit in with that image.

“There.  Facebook friends.  He accepted right away.  Clearly must like you.  Too bad facebook doesn't have a relationship option of ‘Fucked, sucked, and obsessed with'... how about engaged to….?”

“Gah!  Off!”  Blaine jumped to life, not so gently nudging Santana out of the chair so she wouldn't do anything that would ruin his chances.  

Santana just laughed it off and then said her goodbye's, threatening him with a housekeeper if he didn't clean his room up before she came by again and leaving Blaine to sit in front of his computer and try to figure out what to send to Kurt.

*boop!*

It turned out Blaine didn't have to start the conversation because, up on his screen, Kurt already had.

Kurt Hummel: Hello stranger.

Blaine grinned, typing back enthusiastically.

Blaine Anderson: Hey yourself.

Quintessential
Can you believe it?  He's gone no less than an hour and someone else claimed and moved into his room.

KittysKorner
Is the guy hot at least?  I mean… if you have a key anyhow…

Quintessential
Ew.  No.  He's chess team.

FondueForMew
What's wrong with chess?

Quintessential
Nothing… nothing… nevermind.