Blaine is still floating on cloud I Love Kurt at lunch. As soon as he sits down at his usual table, the members of New Directions barrage him with questions about what went down on Friday. He was able to talk to a few of them in homeroom, but nothing too in depth, and being the nosy group they are, they want specifics.
 
“—Are you okay?—”
 
“—I heard Karofsky beat you up because you pelted him with eggs—”
 
“—Where would Blaine get eggs?—”
 
“—I heard Blaine was singing to him—”
 
“—Stacy in Chem said Karofsky trapped you in a locker!—”
 
“—I like eggs, they have baby birds in them--”
 
“--Karofsky said you kissed him,” Santana says, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.
 
Blaine scowls. Good mood, gone. “Karofsky is delusional.”
 
“That’s what Puck said,” Santana says in a sing-song voice.
 
“I don’t care what any of them say, why would I try to kiss someone who’s done nothing but make my life miserable?” Blaine challenges, glaring up at Santana.
 
“Defensive much?” Santana shrugs a bare shoulder, looking like she could care less. “Maybe you’re into S&M, how would I know?”
 
“I love those,” Brittany says.
 
Santana and Blaine look at her.
 
“The peanut ones,” Brittany adds.
 
“Look,” Blaine says, “I didn’t kiss him. He bashed my face into my locker door, I got angry and went after him, we got into a fight, I told Figgins. The end.”
 
Santana snickers. “I can’t believe you snitched.”
 
“Santana, isn’t there some other table that would love to have you?” Rachel snaps, arms folded. “The Cheerios? Puck? Satan?”
 
Santana rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ve spent enough time in Smurf village for the day, anyhow,” she says, giving Rachel and Blaine sugar-sweet smiles before departing with a brisk whip of her skirt.
 
“Ugh,” Rachel says. “If she didn’t have such an amazing voice I would lock her out of every single glee meeting.”
 
“That’s okay,” Blaine says. “Azimio already gave me crap. It’s not like I didn’t expect it after what went down with Karofsky.”
 
“Karofsky just hates that you fight back," Artie says with a sage nod. "Which is what makes you so badass, yo. If that had been me? I’d have just cried."
 
Blaine laughs. “No way, Artie, you’re a beast.”
 
The table dissolves into what they would have done in Blaine’s situation, or what they’d like to do to Karofsky, when Blaine looks across the room and notices Kurt. He isn’t at his usual table with Azimio and Puck, he’s at a table in the corner by himself.
 
Blaine is standing before he even realizes it, and Rachel gives him a questioning look. “Um, I’ll be right back,” he says, and winds his way around students and lunch tables until he reaches Kurt.
 
“Hey,” Blaine says with a smile. “What are you doing over here?”
 
Kurt smirks up at him and indicates his lunch tray with his fork. “Eating?”
 
“Well, yeah, but…” He glances over at Kurt’s former table. “I guess you meant what you said. You aren’t even talking to them.”
 
“I’m not sure how many times I have to tell you, I don’t like them,” Kurt says, tipping back in his chair.
 
Blaine purses his lips. “Come eat with me, then.”
 
“With your glee club?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow.
 
“Sure, why not?” Blaine asks.
 
“There are so many reasons.”
 
“Please?” Blaine gives Kurt his widest, cutest smile, as if this will somehow help entice him.
 
Kurt sighs. “Fine. They aren’t going to like it, though.” He stands and picks up his tray.
 
“Pfft, why not?” Blaine asks, leading Kurt over.

“I think you’ve forgotten who I am?” Kurt says.
 
And indeed, Blaine does seem to have forgotten who Kurt is. Or at least how much the others hate him, because when he reaches the table with Kurt in tow, the entire table is either looking at Blaine as though he’s lost his mind, or glaring at Kurt.
 
“Hey, um,” Blaine starts to say, startled by their chilly reception. “This is—”
 
“Is he holding you hostage?” Rachel asks.
 
“What?”
 
“Yes, I’m marching Blaine around the lunch room by threat of my plastic lunch tray,” Kurt says.
 
“Look, dude, don’t mess with Blaine. He has a black belt,” Finn cuts in.
 
“That’s racist,” Brittany says.
 
“He’s not messing with me—”
 
“I’m sorry, were you dropped on your head as a child?” Kurt says to Brittany.
 
“Leave Brittany alone,” Artie snaps.
 
“Yeah, what exactly are you doing here, anyway?” Mercedes asks. “You think you can take on all nine of us at once, skinny boy?”
 
“Are you sure you’re counting right? Because between her ego,” Kurt jerks a thumb at Rachel, “and your crazy, I’d say there are at least double that.”
 
“Oh, hell to the no—”
 
Rachel stands up. “--Excuse me, but you seem to have mistaken ego for talent and confidence, two things at which I excel. Not that you would know the meaning of the word, or understand talent when you see it, because all you are is a small-minded bully who thinks throwing slushies at other people makes you better than them! Well guess what? It doesn’t. It just makes you pathetic.”
 
Kurt laughs. “I’m pathetic? Look who you’re dating, Miss Coco Peru, the school’s dumbest jock, which is saying something. And if you think singing badly, matching paisley and stripes, and joining every single loser club at this school means you're talented, you’re wrong.”
 
“Hey,” Finn pipes up, “did he mean me?”
 
“They’re not dating,” Quinn snaps.
 
“Oh, right,” Kurt says, like he didn’t actually know, and gives Rachel a fake apologetic smile. She looks absolutely humiliated, and Blaine can’t believe how fast this went wrong.
 
“Kurt, Jesus. Guys! Stop! Kurt isn’t going to do anything—”
 
But too much shit has already been slung, and Kurt’s edging his way out. “Screw it,” he says. “See you later, Blaine.”
 
“Kurt—”
 
But he’s already on his way out. Blaine watches him go with a helpless frown, and looks back to his friends to find them staring at him in varying cases of confusion and anger.
 
“What. Was that?” Tina asks.
 
Blaine sighs and sits down. “You guys couldn’t have even given him a chance?”
 
“Why would we do that?” Rachel asks, her voice reaching an unusual pitch. “Did you hear the things he said?”
 
“Have you lost your mind, Blaine?” Mercedes asks.
 
“No. Look. He’s my friend,” Blaine says.
 
There’s a moment of complete silence.
 
“Kurt Hummel?” Mike says.
 
Blaine nods.
 
“Your friend?”
 
“Since when?” Mercedes adds.
 
“Glee club,” Rachel says, standing and holding a finger up, “if you’ll just excuse us for a minute, please.” She walks briskly to Blaine’s side of the table and motions for him to stand, linking arms with him and leading him away.
 
“--Why does she always treat our lunch group like it’s a glee club meeting?” Blaine hears Mercedes asking as they walk off.
 
“What are you doing?” Blaine asks, still annoyed by how things went with Kurt and his other friends.
 
“Blaine,” Rachel says, the beginning of an almost maniacal smile forming on her face.
 
“Rachel?”
 
“Are you involved in a secret affair with Kurt Hummel?” she asks, eyes bright and locked on his.
 
Blaine sputters. “What!?”
 
Rachel just stares at him.
 
“I—excuse me, but Kurt isn’t gay—”
 
Rachel looks skyward. “Blaine, please. What did I tell you? I have amazing gaydar.”
 
Blaine knows he’s blushing and dearly wishes he wasn’t. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to out Kurt, but if Rachel is already convinced, she’s going to be impossible to argue with. “Fine, Rachel,” he says in a hushed voice, “he is. But please, please don’t tell anyone. He doesn’t want anyone to know.”
 
“Oh my god!” Rachel squeals, hands balled in front of her mouth. “Blaine!” She quiets her voice, standing up on her tip toes to whisper dramatically at him. “This is so exciting! I know exactly what you’re going through! I dated a boy from our rival glee club and I had to keep it secret because New Directions thought I was being a traitor. It was kind of exciting, having secret rendezvous--”
 
“I’m not dating him!” Blaine hisses, embarrassed. “We’re just friends. He told me he was gay. We relate to each other. That’s it.”
 
“Oh.” Rachel’s looking at him with an incredibly sad expression.
 
“What?”
 
“You like him, don’t you?” she asks.
 
“No!” Blaine realizes he’s protesting too hard after the fact and bites his lower lip. “I mean…” He flounders, then looks at her with purposeful intensity. “Do you promise not to say anything? To anyone?”
 
“Blaine. I would never tell the secrets of your heart,” Rachel says.

“The secrets of my--? Rachel, it’s…” I love him. “I just like him,” Blaine says, spreading his arms a moment. “l’ll get over it.”
 
“He doesn’t return your feelings?”
 
Blaine makes a face. “I haven’t told him.”
 
“Have you even tried flirting with him?” Rachel asks.
 
“Not exactly. I don’t want to screw up our friendship, you know? I’m pretty much the only friend he has. And he’s the only one like me. Our friendship is too important to risk it,” he tries to explain. “Plus, he has a type. And I am very much not it.”
 
“True love doesn’t have a type,” Rachel says, her voice sing-song and happy. Blaine just groans and drops it.
 
----

Blaine doesn’t see Kurt in the lunch room when Rachel finishes her inquisition, so he sends a text. Kurt replies that he’s outside, and Blaine finds him alone at one of the tables in the outer courtyard.
 
“Sorry,” Blaine says in greeting.
 
“Don’t be. I didn’t expect them to want me there. Anyway, I was kind of a jerk myself,” Kurt says without looking up from his classwork.
 
Blaine sighs and sits down. “I didn’t think it’d be such a thing.”
 
Kurt smirks. “They’re your show choir friends. I think dramatic is in their nature.”
 
“Very funny.” Blaine rubs his hands together against the cold. “I’ll just sit with you at lunch, then.”
 
Kurt looks up and there’s a teasing smile on his face. “Don’t you see enough of me?”
 
Blaine doesn’t know what to say to that. No seems a bit much, and yes is a lie. Not that he isn’t already lying to Kurt about a few things.
 
“It just sucks to sit alone.”
 
“Such a thoughtful friend,” Kurt says, soft and melodic. There’s a moment and something seems to register on Kurt’s face. His expression turns stern. “Okay, where is your coat?”
 
“My locker,” Blaine says.
 
Kurt takes Blaine’s hands between his and rubs. “You are freezing! Blaine, I swear, your mind is on another planet half the time.”
 
Blaine doesn’t mind the scolding, because Kurt’s hands, gloved but for the fingertips, send the tiniest shivers up his arms every time there’s a brush of skin against skin. Kurt’s leaning close, eyelashes fanned out along his cheeks, which are flushed from the cold. He smells like spearmint, and in a way he looks like a creature of winter, something beautiful and delicate.
 
Kurt looks up when Blaine doesn’t reply, and Blaine looks into his eyes, so lovely and close, and can’t say anything at all. Kurt doesn’t say anything, either, and Blaine swears they just look at each other for a decades-long moment, Kurt’s hands having stopped in their efforts at some point along the way.
 
“Blaine…”
 
Blaine opens his mouth and makes the effort. “Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper.
 
Kurt is about to reply when another boy sits down next to Kurt and startles them both. “There you are. You’re harder to find than a four leaf clover."
 
And the moment is gone.
 
“Oh, Rory. Sorry. It completely slipped my mind that we were meeting at lunch,” Kurt says, and who is Rory and why is Kurt being so friendly with him?
 
“The only Irish bloke in all of Ohio, probably, and I’m forgettable! Oy,” Rory says, and Blaine can tell he’s teasing, and Kurt actually smiles at him.
 
“No, I swear, it’s just because I was so hungry,” Kurt says, putting his hands up in surrender.
 
Blaine’s had enough. He moves to stand, clearing his throat a little. “I’ll see you later, Kurt.”
 
Kurt flashes a slightly confused smile his way. “Okay. Bye, Blaine.” The Rory kid just kind of looks at him, and Blaine doesn't even try to hide his annoyance as he walks off.

----

Blaine and Kurt meet up after school for Blaine’s French tutoring. Each lesson is becoming shorter and shorter as they tend to dissolve into conversation or flipping through fashion magazines or impromptu karaoke sessions. Once, Blaine brought his karaoke machine to Kurt’s house, and there it has remained. Ever since Blaine came out to his parents he spends as little time at home as possible, and he doesn’t bring Kurt over at all. Kurt hasn’t said anything, and they make good use of the machine (sometimes to the point where Burt, downstairs, will bang a broom handle against the ceiling to signal he’s had enough of cheesy 80’s duets and Broadway numbers).
 
They have such a good time that Blaine doesn’t think about Rory at all, his mind full up with Kurt. He soaks it in, each time a hand or an arm would brush, the sound Kurt’s laughter made, his smiles and the way his eyes slanted when something was especially funny.
 
It isn’t until the next day when Blaine waits and waits and waits for Kurt to come into the lunchroom and he doesn’t, that Blaine wonders. He sends a text in his impatience.
 
B: where are you?
 
K: In the library studying with Rory.
 
Blaine feels his face grow hot with jealousy.
 
B: you could have let me know
 
K: Sorry? You have your friends to sit with, I didn’t think it would matter.
 
Blaine is so inexplicably angry he doesn’t reply. He shoves his phone back into his pocket and stares down at his rapidly cooling macaroni and cheese. God, the lunch food at this school is abhorrent.
 
Maybe five minutes later, Blaine gets another text.
 
K: Are you mad at me?
 
Is he--? The text only makes Blaine more angry, and he quickly types back: no I’m just busy with my friends. In his mind he’s underlined ‘friends.’ Plural. People who are not you. Take that, Kurt Hummel.
 
But he isn’t. He hasn’t heard one word any of them have said as they chatter around him. He hasn’t said a thing, hasn’t eaten a bite. He tries to pay attention now, wincing at a particularly loud peal of laughter. It’s Quinn, laughing at something Finn’s said, and Blaine catches Rachel’s look of hurt. He frowns sympathetically at her.
 
What if Rory’s gay? He’s cute and he has an accent and why wouldn’t Kurt like him? But it isn’t even just that, it’s that Blaine is Kurt’s friend. No one else. Blaine is the only one Kurt smiles at like that and spends one on one time with. Sure, Blaine wants Kurt to make friends with New Directions, but that’s because he knows them. Because he hadn’t considered the possibility of any of them taking Kurt away from him.
 
And wow, this is bad. Because he is being really selfish and really unfair. At least these thoughts are just that, at least he hasn’t acted on them. Kurt deserves friends, and god, he deserves to have someone…special. Even if it isn’t Blaine, and even if it would kill him to watch it happen. To know Kurt would rather be with someone else.
 
Blaine grabs his satchel and starts looking for a mirror, and—wait, god, why would he have a mirror? He really is going crazy. He just wants to look at himself, like he can’t even remember his own face. Is he cute or handsome? Is he appealing, generally?
 
Blaine looks around the table for the best candidate of advice-giving. He chews at his lower lip and considers each one.
 
“Rachel,” he finally hisses, nudging her ankle under the table. She gives him a questioning look. He stands and motions for her to follow.
 
When he has her away from the table he asks, “Can I talk to you in the choir room?”

----

Blaine is sitting in the choir room across a panel of very harsh judges.
 
“He needs more bling,” Brittany says.
 
When Blaine asked Rachel how he could make himself look better she had called the entire female ratio of New Directions into the Choir Room. It’s like Project Blaine, and is more than a little unnerving.
 
“Less gel,” Mercedes adds.
 
“Have you ever considered not wearing a bowtie?” Tina asks.
 
“Or plaid?” Quinn says.
 
“Or no clothes at all?” Santana says, and licks her lips.
 
Blaine is starting to sweat. “Um…”
 
Rachel taps her finger against her mouth. “Ladies! I think you’ll all agree with me when I say this calls for a shopping trip!”
 
And that is how Blaine Anderson ends up at the mall with six shopping-crazed girls, each of them flitting around store after store finding their own versions of attire they think Blaine should wear. He actually almost makes Brittany cry when he refuses the three piece lavender suit she finds. No, he does not want goth chic (Tina), zebra stripes (Mercedes), or a sweater with puppies on it (god knows where Rachel even found such a thing). Quinn picks out something nice, but when he comes out of the dressing room they all decide he looks like he’s going on a job interview. Or to Sunday mass.
 
“What exactly is this for?” Tina asks. “You didn’t say.”
 
“Yeah, that does help in a make-over,” Mercedes says.
 
“Well.” Blaine blushes a little, smoothing his hands down the button-up Quinn brought him. “There’s this guy…”
 
Rachel’s jaw drops because she knows, and he makes a point not to look at her.
 
There are oohs and squeals, and oh my god, who!?, and Santana speaks up above all of them. “Why didn’t you just say so, Anderson? Give me your size in jeans and five minutes,” she says, and once she has his measurements she disappears around the corner.
 
Tina and Mercedes give each other a look.
 
Rachel seems vaguely irritated. “If she brings back a pair of leather pants…”
 
Santana returns and presses a stack of clothing in Blaine’s arms. “And you’ll wear socks with this, entienda?”
 
Blaine changes into what Santana brought him and looks at himself in the mirror. The outfit consists of a simple cotton black v-neck shirt and a rather uncomfortably tight pair of jeans. Not skintight, but enough to hug his ass and thighs. It’s definitely not him. But then, isn’t that the point?
 
When he leaves the changing room he’s greeted with widened eyes, a few tiny gasps, and an awed damn. He can’t stop blushing, feeling weirdly exposed.
 
“Am I a genius, or am I a genius?” Santana preens.
 
“You. Are a genius,” Tina agrees.
 
Rachel rolls her eyes. “You’ve just dressed him up like Puck. How unsurprising.”
 
“Hey, it works,” Santana says. “You even made out with him, didn’t you?”
 
Blaine grins in surprise. “Oh, really? Puck?”
 
Rachel blushes and huffs. “He was being uncharacteristically charming!” She folds her arms and gives him a prim look. “It didn’t last. We’re from two different worlds.”
 
“Right,” Santana says sarcastically. “The hood and the Never Neverland.”
 
“—If you’re likening me to a pirate—”
 
“--Seriously, you dress like a five year old librarian—”
 
“—Ever heard of sexy librarian?—”
 
“--Yeah, and all of that? Not it—”
 
Rachel and Santana bicker for most of the rest of their shopping trip. Regardless, Santana finds Blaine a pair of heavy black boots to go with his new outfit and gives him explicit instructions on how to do his hair. Most of it involves not using ‘an elephants’ weight in gel,’ which gets a hardy ‘amen’ from Mercedes.

----

When it’s time for school the next day, Blaine chickens out and wears his regular clothes. He's decided that black t-shirt Blaine will be plan B. Plan A for Get Kurt To Like Me is a little more dramatic, but involves less people. Which is how, at nine thirty at night, he finds himself driving over to Kurt’s house. It’s dark and snowing lightly, so Blaine parks at the curb and carefully picks his way up Kurt’s driveway and into the backyard. Kurt’s bedroom light is on, which should mean he’s in there. Like some dorky teenager from a John Hughe’s movie, Blaine tosses a stone at Kurt’s window to get his attention.
 
Nothing happens, so he throws another.
 
He sees a face press against the window, and a moment later it opens. Blaine sucks in a breath, pushing down on a sudden jolt of fear, embarrassment.
 
“Blaine?” Kurt calls down. Blaine can just make out his face, his features softly illuminated from his bedroom light. “What are you doing?”
 
“I wanted to tell you something,” Blaine says, peering through the dark and the falling snow.
 
“Okay? Come inside, it’s snowing.”
 
Blaine turns on the ipod boombox he brought with him. He hears Kurt protest a few more times, but he stops when Blaine starts to sing.
 
"There’s no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard, no song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart…"

Blaine chances a look up at Kurt and finds him with his hands covering most of his face, fingers spread so he can peek through. Blaine can tell he’s grinning by the shape of his eyes, though, and a warm smile spreads across his face.
 
“Blaine, are you for real?” Kurt asks during the interlude, voice high pitched. 
 
Blaine just smiles and launches into the next part of the song, keeping his gaze on Kurt, pouring his heart into each word.

"And there is no, no song I could sing, and there is no combination of words I could say, but I will still tell you one thing, we're better together…"
 
Kurt applauds quietly and Blaine bows. He feels filled up with the look he put on Kurt’s face. It’s all he wanted to see. It’s all he ever wants to see, a smile on Kurt’s face that he put there.
 
“You’re insane, you know that?” Kurt says, and there’s laughter in his voice.
 
Blaine takes a step closer to the house, hope bubbling up in his chest. “It's been weird, lately. I just-- Do you forgive me?”
 
“Of course! There’s nothing to forgive. Come up, you’re going to freeze!”
 
Blaine beams at him, relieved. “I can't.”
 
“What? Why?” Kurt calls, leaning out the window.
 
Blaine shakes his head, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
 
“Blaine?”
 
Blaine waves, already making his way back to the driveway. It went well, he thinks. Kurt liked the song, the way he was smiling was everything Blaine wanted. Blaine puts his ipod in the passenger seat of his car and closes the door, when he hears another door open and close. He turns and gets a look at a somewhat breathless Kurt Hummel before his arms are full of him.
 
“Kurt…” Kurt is hugging him tight, and Blaine hugs back, allows himself the luxury of burying his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck. His heart beats faster. Is this it?
 
“Thank you for the song."
 
Blaine feels himself blushing. “You’re welcome.”
 
“Better be careful, or people will think you’re my boyfriend,” Kurt says, pulling back from the hug so Blaine can see his face. He plays with the zipper of Blaine's coat, looking up at him almost shyly.
 
Now. Blaine needs to say something, he should say something. Kurt is standing so close, looks so happy and free. He knows now is the time, right now is the perfect moment. Three words, they should be easy to say to his best friend. “I’m sorry..."
 
Kurt drops Blaine’s zipper and looks at him with a frown. “Sorry? ...Do you think that's how I'd feel?”
 
“I-I don’t know,” Blaine says stupidly, knowing that he just missed his opportunity.
 
Kurt shakes his head in something like disbelief, mouth parted but nothing coming out like he doesn’t know what to say. “…After?—”
 
“No, it’s fine. I get it, Blaine. That’s how you feel.” Kurt’s walking backwards, he’s going to go back inside. Blaine needs to stop him, but his feet won’t comply. He messed it up. “Thanks for the song.”

"Kurt—"

"Kurt?" Burt is standing in the open doorway, looking at the both of them in confusion. "Hey Blaine. You okay? It's late."

"Hi, I'm fine," Blaine says, knowing the moment is completely lost. And anyway, Kurt is already going up the porch. "See you later..."

Blaine watches Kurt and his father talk for a moment, before Burt waves to Blaine and closes the door behind them.
 
Kurt is gone and Blaine’s feet eventually remember how to move again. He gets into his car and drives. So, maybe he shouldn't have apologized, because being Kurt's boyfriend is nothing to apologize for - especially when he'd just serenaded him...but why did he bother Kurt so much? Between bouts of cursing himself for saying the wrong thing and wanting to pound his head against the steering wheel, he tries to come up with an answer. He obviously said the wrong thing, and he'll just have to go to Plan B.

----

The next morning is a Friday; the weekend is upon him, but first, he has something to do.
 
The song was the first part, so it’s on to plan B. Plan B is the black v-neck shirt, snug-fitting jeans, biker boots, and ungelled hair. (Well, maybe a little gel.)
 
Blaine feels ridiculous. This really is not him, he’s going to stick out because it’s not him and what if it just makes Kurt laugh? If anything will appeal to Kurt, it’s a well-dressed man, and this is very biker chic. But he's not sure it's Kurt's style...
 
Well, the jeans were expensive, anyway. And Santana liked it, and it does show off his ass. Blaine twists his body, trying to get a look at said ass in the mirror. He really hopes it’s looking good, anyway.
 
Blaine turns up to school a few minutes late on purpose, not wanting to navigate the morning crowd in his new outfit. If Kurt laughs, at least he’ll have an excuse to go into the restroom and change. He stands outside homeroom and takes a deep breath.
 
Now or never.
 
Blaine creeps into the classroom. No one really looks up except Rachel, who gasps, eyes widening in excitement. Blaine makes a face at her trying to convey to her to calm down, when Kurt looks up. Kurt’s mouth doesn’t part, eyes don’t widen. There’s no laughter. Kurt is holding a pen, the end of it cushioned on his lower lip. His eyes travel the length of Blaine’s body and Blaine swears he can feel it.
 
It’s like he stands there frozen for hours, but knows it’s just a moment. Blaine forces himself to move, sitting down in his usual spot between Rachel and Kurt. He doesn’t say anything, hopefully isn’t blushing, pretends it’s just like any other day.
 
“Pssst.” Rachel’s waving her hand in a come closer motion, so Blaine leans toward her desk. “You look amazing,” she squeals.
 
Quinn leans past Rachel and gives a thumbs up.
 
“Shhh, shut up,” Blaine hisses, blushing and opening his Calc book to some random page to appear as though he is in a true state of aloofness.
 
Enough time passes that Blaine wonders if Kurt is ignoring him, when he feels Kurt’s foot tapping at the leg of his desk. He turns to Kurt with what is probably an over-eager smile.
 
“Run out of gel?” Kurt asks, smiling around his pen.
 
Blaine raises a hand to his hair, self-conscious. He'd tamed the curls, but kept some volume to his hair. “I thought I’d try something new.”
 
“New clothes, too,” Kurt says, looking down at his homework and writing something on his paper.
 
“I just thought—”
 
Kurt looks back over, eyebrow raised.
 
He’s about to continue when the teacher calls him up to his desk.
 
There’s a note from the Principal’s office. Blaine slowly gathers his things. Kurt is watching him, curious, but he has most of the class’ attention now and doesn’t want to make a point of singling Kurt out to say something before he leaves. He shrugs a shoulder at his friends before slipping out the door. As he makes his way to Figgins’ office he tries to run through all the things he could possibly be in trouble for. Try as he might, he can’t come up with anything. Maybe whatever Figgins has to say is a good thing? Maybe he’s going to be valedictorian! Or maybe he just has to move his car. Did he park in a teacher’s spot?
 
Blaine checks in with the secretary, who sends him right back to Figgins’ office. Principal Figgins is waiting behind his desk, hands folded.
 
“Blaine, I called you here because I have some unfortunate news,” Figgins says after they share pleasantries. Blaine feels his stomach drop. He knows exactly what Figgins is going to say in that moment. It’s like a shock of cold water. Why didn’t he see this coming? “Your case was taken to the school board, but due to lack of evidence, David’s strong denial, and his standing here at McKinley—”
 
 “Lack of evidence?” Blaine repeats, cutting in. “What do they want, fingerprints?”
 
“Now, Blaine, I do not doubt the validity of your claim, but I have no control over what the board decides,” Figgins sighs. “Effective Monday, David Karofsky’s suspension is over, and he will be permitted to return to McKinley.”

----

Blaine walks to his next class on automatic. He knew this was a possibility, that there had always been a chance Karofsky’s expulsion wouldn’t hold. Now he’s well and truly screwed, because how is he expected to go up against a freshly pissed off David Karofsky? The guy has all the emotional stability of a volcano, and worse, something like two hundred pounds on him. It’s not like even if Blaine knew how to fight he’d stand a chance.
 
Kurt texts when Blaine doesn’t, asking what happened. Blaine says he’ll tell him later, doesn’t want to tell him via sneaking texts during Calculus. Not that he can pay attention to the teacher anyway.
 
They don’t get a chance to talk until lunch, when Kurt drags Blaine into an empty corner of the library.
 
“I saw Azimio and Puck acting like they’d won the freaking Juvie of the Year award. He’s coming back, isn’t he?” Kurt says, eyes searching Blaine’s.
 
Blaine lets out a long sigh. He’s secretly grateful Kurt figured it out and said it for him. “Yeah. The school board apparently doesn’t think my argument is enough to get him kicked out for good.”
 
“I wish I could say I’m surprised.” Kurt frowns and looks away, and Blaine knows he’s angry, can tell just by the set of his shoulders.
 
“Me too.” And somehow, Kurt’s anger bolsters him. It’s a serious problem for both of them; Blaine, quite obviously because he got Karofsky suspended and he knows, and Kurt, because he’s turned his back on all of them. Still, somehow it doesn’t seem so much like he’s drowning, now. “I guess we’ll just have to have each other’s backs.”
 
Kurt’s eyes flick back to him and he smiles faintly. “I was thinking of making a shiv.”
 
“Mace?”
 
“Sai.”
 
“Ninja stars, definitely.”
 
“How about good ol’ nunchucks?”
 
Blaine laughs. “I like that we’ve somehow turned into Ninja Turtles. Hey, you know, my folks are on a trip this weekend, you should come over and we can watch some self-defense videos on youtube.”
 
“I have to finish my paper for Government or I'll put it off forever and end up working on it on Monday morning. How about tomorrow?”
 
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Blaine says, trying not to look as giddy as he feels. “I’ll stock up on snacks.”
 
“Blaine.”
 
“Remember my rule,” Blaine says in a sing-song voice.
 
Kurt sighs. “’No diet on a weekend.’” He crosses his arms. “May I remind you, it isn’t a diet. It’s called eating healthy. Also if it was a diet, you can’t just stop on weekends.”
 
“Same thing.” Blaine grins. “Now come on, let’s go get some lunch before everything halfway edible is gone.”