There's a blow on the window that shoots through Kurt, making his bones rattle and his ears ring. He stumbles to the aperture, pushing it open, and he can't even step away because Blaine's already inside.

“Your parents home?”

“What. The. Fuck.” He grabs his best friend by the collar and resists the temptation to drive him back through the window. “You can't just come here all the time.”

Blaine laughs and shoves Kurt's hands away, dumping his bag on the floor and pulling out a camera. His golden eyes shine as he holds it above his head and admires the black gleam. “My dad gave me his old Fujifilm Instax. It's like a Polaroid camera, so now we can make those cool vintage instant photos.”

Kurt shakes his head and laughs at Blaine's weird camera fetish. Nobody loves photography more than Blaine Anderson. Every single second the two have spent together is documented and probably archived somewhere in the Anderson household (or fortress, if you will). Not that Kurt minds. His love for design coupled with his best friend's obsession of the graphic arts has led to many a photo shoot. Call it a cliché, but Kurt adores photo shoots.

“Hey, can we hang tomorrow?” Blaine toys with the camera. “I want to try this baby out.”

“Can't. Got Glee practice.”

Blaine groans and slumps in the chair, fixing Kurt with an averse look. “Really? Blowing me off for Glee?”

“We've got Sectionals coming up. It's really important.”

“Fine.” An idea lights up his face and he smirks. “Guess I'll just have to come by again tomorrow night.”

“Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no. Let's not make a habit of this.”

Blaine's smirk deepens and Kurt laughs. Like it isn't a habit already.

Kurt really didn't mind Blaine coming over at night. Sure, there were the risks and sometimes he'd shove him under the bed because Burt, his dad, would come up to say good night, but most of the time they got away without much hassle. Seeing each other on a daily basis is near impossible, since Blaine attends a stuck-up rich school in Westerville called Dalton, where homework is plentiful and absence unacceptable. Kurt goes to the local public school, William McKinley High, where jocks and abuse are plentiful and the Glee club is unacceptable. But ever since puberty hit, the bullying has lessened to the point where nobody cared about Kurt's sexuality anymore.

Anyway, Blaine climbing through his window is usually the best part of Kurt's day.

“So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Same time, same place?” Blaine grins.

“As if I had a fucking choice.”

“You really don't.”

A flash of light and Blaine holding up his camera in triumph, then he's gone in a blur and leaves the window gaping open with the cool night air breezing in.

* * * *

Blaine can't sleep. He throws out the silken pillows and searches for the flat, hard one that Kurt gave him on his seventeenth birthday. He loves how warm it feels, how the rough edges are worn from cuddles and the threads are torn out here and there. That's how it's supposed to be; used but comfortable.

But even his Kurt-pillow can't help him.

He sighs and opens the window, inhaling the icy draft. Shivering, he grabs his guitar and sits on the bed, strumming it idly. He isn't worried about his parents; they live on the other side of the house and probably don't even know he can play.

Humming softly, he falls into a rhythm. He pauses to grab his iPhone and taps on record because he knows Kurt doesn't want to miss a single song he plays. Sometimes he grows frustrated of Blaine denying his gift and starts throwing things at him.

“You're so talented, Blaine! You don't even know what you're capable of!”

He laughs loudly and puts down the guitar. “That's what it's called. 'What You're Capable Of' sung by Blaine Anderson. Hope you like it.” He says the last part into the phone and taps on stop. He glances at his bedside watch and it's 2 AM, but he still sends the audio file. Who knows, he might be up.

(Incoming text from Kurt)

“Did you just sing this?”

Blaine grinned. Knew it. Leaning back, he tapped a reply.

“Yeah.”

“You're unheard of.”

“Thanks?”

“I'm serious. This is really, really good.”

“I was just playing around. Don't even remember what I sang.”

“Well, all I'll say is that if you were in Glee club, Rachel would eat her own hair with jealousy because you. Are. Amazing.”

“Why are you still up?”

“Can't sleep.”

“Same.”

“Got this number in Glee tomorrow. I swear if my solo isn't picked for Sectionals, I'll go home right there. We can go out for drinks or something.”

“Wow, really?”

“Sure, why not? We can meet somewhere that isn't my window for a change.”

“It's a date.”

“Sweet. Night, Blaine.”

“Night.”

Blaine rolled back into the pillow and buried his head in the fabric. His hand stretched out to put the phone away, but his exhaustion dragged him under before he could reach the nightstand.

He fell asleep smiling.

* * * *

Kurt groans along with everybody else as Mr Shuester hands out the setlist.

Right as Rain, Adele.

Sung by Santana and Mercedes.

Big Yellow Taxi, Counting Crows.

Sung by Rachel and Finn.

What a surprise. Sure, Santana has a great voice, but her solos have become plentiful and Rachel and Finn doing a duet? Please. Been there, heard it.

No wonder they didn't win anymore.

Feeling depressed and angry, Kurt throws the paper away and storms out of the choir room, slamming the door in his wake. He has barely made it to the hallway when a hand taps his shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing?” Rachel asks with narrowed eyes.

“I'm going to hang with Blaine.”

She sighs and puts her hands on her hips. “Seriously? The curly-haired Dalton guy?” She shakes her head and quirks an eyebrow, sending vibes of You could do better.

“He's straight, by the by. And single.”

“Not interested. Listen, we need you for Sectionals. The background in Big Yellow Taxi is key.”

“Rach, I'm done. No more background singing, no more dancing beside the spotlight. What's the point of spending time in a choir club when you don't even get to sing?”

“I'm sure you'll get a solo for Nationals.”

“Right. See ya.”

She flails with her hands, trying to look for something to say. “Kurt, please. We need you!”

“Apparently not, if my talent is reduced to being your background. Anyone can be your background, Rachel.” It's harsh, but Kurt has set his priorities. At least with Blaine he doesn't have to worry about singing. They do it all the time when they're together and they always find a way to split up the songs so that they both sing.

Without further thought, Kurt leaves the building. He knows that Rachel will go back and tell everyone that he ditched practice and how irresponsible he's being. He knows they'll talk about him and he knows what they'll say, but he doesn't care.

Walking swiftly, he digs out his phone.

“Hey, B. Where are you right now?”

“Just got out of school, why?” came the confused reply.

“Make an educated guess?”

“Your solo wasn't picked.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner.”

“What the fuck? Your solos are great.”

“Clearly not great enough. Meet me at Safeway in an hour? My car's parked there.”

“Sure! See you then.”

Beep.

Kurt jogs home and grabs his wallet and ID. His anger eases at the idea of spending an entire day with Blaine. They could buy some food, settle down, chat about life, maybe catch a movie, and finish with some drinks. The ideal set-up for a relaxed, stress-free day.

When he arrives at Safeway, Blaine is already leaning against his car, holding up his hand for a high-five. Kurt ignores him and wraps him in a hug instead, mumbling “I had a really shitty day...” against his shirt.

Blaine laughs and pats him on the back. “It's about to shape up. I have the ultimate plan for tonight.”

Kurt pulls away and fixes him with a concerned stare. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all.” Blaine grins and hooks an arm around his neck, leading him to the store. “Because I'm about to get you a boyfriend.”

Kurt groans and drags his feet. “Not this again, Blaine. I don't want to look for a boyfriend. I want the boyfriend to look for me.”

“But you really need someone to take care of you when I'm not around!”

“You're always around.”

“You need someone who's liked by your parents.”

This makes Kurt think. Blaine was never truly accepted by the Hummel-Hudsons. Burt thought he was bad influence – too unpredictable and evasive for him to control. Carole had an irrational hatred against Dalton, and Finn couldn't stand his charm and cleverness. None of these are valid reasons but Kurt doesn't argue because they don't influence his friendship with Blaine in any way.

“Maybe it is time for a boyfriend, but I don't want to force it.”

Blaine smooths back his curls and strikes a heroic pose. “You obviously haven't met wingman-Blaine!”

Kurt covers up his snort. “Fucking seriously? You don't even have a girlfriend.”

“I don't need one,” he says indignantly. “I don't have time for 'em anyway.”

“Sad.”

“You're one to talk.”

They glower at each other for a moment – then break into hysteric giggles. The clerk is looking at them funny, which only makes them laugh harder, so they wind up buying popcorn, soda, and pringles to make up for it. When Kurt digs for his wallet, Blaine puts a hand on his arm and says, “Don't worry, it's on me.”

Kurt makes a mental note to pay for the drinks later.

They sit in the car together and start ranting about the lack of good music nowadays, cheering whenever a P!nk song comes on. They love P!nk because it played in the GAP when they first met, so when “Dear Mr President” is announced they manage a decent duet with plenty of laughter at the 'if she were gay' line because Blaine has the nerve to point at Kurt and grin.

“Isn't it weird how I sing more with you than when I'm in Glee practice?” Kurt says after the song ends.

Blaine laughs around a pringle. “Just do what I do: Sing whenever the hell you want, no matter who's listening.”

Kurt shields his eyes. “Good God, close your mouth, B.”

Blaine makes it a point to chew extra loudly, earning a jab in the ribs.

The day passes quickly with their little jokes and laughs. Before he knows it, Kurt's pulling into the parking lot of his and Blaine's favorite (heterosexual) bar. The Bumper.

“I'd still like to know how they got that name,” Kurt mutters as they walk over the lot.

“Obviously because there are so many potential boyfriends that could bump into you, which of course leads to hasty apologies and looking each other in the eyes and oh dear Lord his eyes are so pretty!” Blaine clasps his heart and sighs lovingly.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Kurt says with a laugh. “Keep acting like that and you'll get a boyfriend tonight.”

That shuts him up and Kurt mentally pats himself on the shoulder as they enter the bar.