Blaine’s problem is that when he isn't thinking about how much he can't stand his parents, he’s thinking about�Kurt. He’s starting to seriously creep himself out, because what guy thinks about another guy so much? He's pretty sure the only way to stop will be if he can just figure out what’s up with Kurt. Once he solves the mystery of Kurt Hummel, things will go back to normal.

Plan A. He goes over to Kurt’s house again, unannounced.

Burt answers the door and his eyebrows raise in surprise.�

Blaine blushes, oh god, what had he been thinking? They probably both hate him now after the incident with his mom. "Hi-- I. I just wanted to apologize for the other day. At the grocery store," he says, already stepping back onto a lower step of the porch. He should leave.

Burt's expression relaxes into understanding. "Hey, that's okay. You don't gotta apologize."

Blaine is a little taken aback. "...Are you sure? Because--"

"Look, kid, it isn't you, y'know? If your mom's got a problem?" He shrugs. "That's her deal."

Blaine nods, but admits, "I feel bad. I don't share her opinion."

"I figured." Burt smiles, and Blaine feels relieved. "You lookin for Kurt?"

Another nod, a little less timid.

"He's not due home for about another half hour or so. You wanna come in and wait?"

"Uh." Blaine smiles tentatively. "Sure."

Burt nods toward the inside of the house and holds the door open for him. He steps inside, smile growing.

"You can watch TV if you want, game's on. Or you can help me make dinner," Burt says with a small laugh, like he knows what Blaine's choice will be.

"I'd love to help," Blaine says, and that seems to catch Burt's attention.

"Yeah? Ever make quinoa tacos?"

"No, I've...never even heard of that. But I'm a fast learner." Blaine follows Burt into the kitchen where dinner is already started.

"Had some heart trouble last year. Kid's got me on a healthy diet, so we use a special recipe book. No salt on anything," Burt sighs.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay now?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah, thanks to Kurt. He's a sweet boy, couldn’t ask for better son." Burt talks as he gathers ingredients, pride evident in his voice and on his face. "Gets it from his mother, of course."

"Is she at work?" And damn Blaine's penchant for speaking before thinking, leading him to say awkward, stupid things. He regrets it as soon as he sees the look in Burt's eyes.

Burt goes still, staring at the cook book. "She passed away eleven years ago. Kurt was six."

"I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't know."�Of course you didn't know, idiot. "I'm-- That must be hard."

"We get by," Burt says, finally turning to look at him with a smile. "Now, you think you can handle cutting up some cauliflower?"
�
----
�
"Dad! I'm home!"

Kurt comes running into the dining room, slightly breathless and excited about something. It lasts about two seconds. He stops short, confusion and surprise evident on his face. Blaine is sure Kurt probably didn't expect to come home and find him setting the table.

"Hi."

"Did I walk into the wrong house, or..."

Burt pokes his head out of the kitchen. "Hey, you're home. Just in time, dinner's about done."

Kurt looks between Burt and Blaine, and slowly backs out of the room. Blaine listens to his footsteps ascend the stairs.

Well, that wasn't awkward or anything.

Blaine finishes setting the table and Kurt returns, nose in the air, composed. He comes up to Blaine, standing close by his side, and whispers near his ear, "Why are you in my house?"

Blaine turns his face a little, unnerved. "You said we’re friends. Best friends."

Kurt stares. "...You did not think I was being serious."

Blaine just smiles.

"You did�not."

Of course he hadn't, but it's not like he’s going to say,�nah I was just curious about how you seem to be two different people, so I decided to come over and get to know you.

"Boys?" Burt carries the taco platter out and sets it on the table. "Care to bring out a dish?"

"Of course," Blaine says dutifully, and slips past Kurt and into the kitchen to get the saut�ed cauliflower. Kurt follows, bringing out pineapple slices. Blaine can feel Kurt's eyes on him, but ignores him and sits down at the table.

"Thanks again for inviting me to dinner, Mr. Hummel," Blaine says after they start eating.

"Burt. And of course. It goes a lot faster having help."

Kurt looks mildly horrified. "You helped make dinner?"

"Yes," Blaine says. "How else was I going to get the chance to poison your dinner?"

Kurt opens his mouth, a half-eaten piece of cauliflower falling out. Blaine nearly doubles over in laughter.

"That isn't�funny," Kurt grinds out, daintily picking up the piece of cauliflower with his napkin and setting it aside.

"It’s pretty funny," Blaine says, wiping at the corner of his eye.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is�not."

"Boy, Kurt, what got up your butt?" Burt asks, snorting around a bite of food.

Kurt colors and looks down at his plate. He picks up his fork, seeming to come to a decision, and smiles. "Nothing, dad. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to help make dinner, too."

"Gotta get home earlier than six thirty, son," Burt says.

"I was at the library."

They continue to eat, Kurt and his dad talking about the script Kurt’s working on for Creative Writing. It’s a Western and he has to do research because he doesn’t know anything legitimate about horses or surviving in desert climates. Blaine listens quietly, mostly watching Kurt. Kurt sounds excited about the story, and even more excited when he brings up that he saw the For Sale sign in the window of a car he wants has been reduced in price by a thousand dollars.

"What kind of car is it?" Blaine asks.

Kurt looks over at him. "A 1965 Buick Riviera.” His attention returns to his father. “I just think it’d be fun to rebuild before I go to college."

"Except you’re forgetting how you should be saving money for college, not some old car," Burt says.

"Yeah, yeah, dad. It’s just a nice car. Plus, it’d be nice not having to share your truck."

"We'll see."

Kurt smiles and takes a bite of his taco.

"I have a car," Blaine pipes up, "if you ever need a ride somewhere."

Kurt almost chokes, and takes a long drink of milk, staring at Blaine over his glass as though trying to gauge if he’s messing with him or not.

"You only live maybe five minutes away," Blaine adds.

"Sure," Kurt says, catching his breath. "Thanks, Blaine."

Blaine thinks this is kind of fun, how Kurt has to act nice to him because his dad is around. "No problem. Maybe we can go bowling or something. Or to Cedar Point."

"You are not getting me on a roller coaster," Kurt says immediately.

Burt chuckles. "It's true. Took him on the log ride when he was seven and it just about traumatized him."

"I was soaking wet! Not to mention what they do to your hair,�and�your stomach." He stabs a pineapple slice, looking prissy. "Never again."

Blaine smiles down at his plate. "That's the whole point."

Kurt points the pineapple slice at him. "Never. Again."

Blaine put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, no Cedar Point."

"Besides," Kurt says, sucking the juice off the piece of fruit, "are you sure your mother would let you? She seems a bit..." He meets Blaine's gaze, challenging. "Uptight."

"Kurt," Burt starts to say.

"No, it's fine. No one is more aware of my mother's behavior than I am," Blaine says, looking Kurt right in the eye. "And to answer your question, Kurt, I doubt she would care. Beyond that, I'm sorry about what she said yesterday."

Kurt licks his lip. A long moment passes. He must be unable to come up with a jab to return with. "It's fine. I hope I wasn't too out of line."

"A bit," Burt says.

What his mother did was humiliating, but it was far from the first time. Blaine swallows his shame, there is nothing else he can do. "Well, it is the truth."

The conversation relaxes again after that, segueing into a discussion about movies coming out soon. At the end of the meal Burt starts to gather the dishes and Kurt stretches.

"Well, it was nice of you to come over, Blaine..."

Blaine just smiles.

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow at school?" Kurt concludes.

"Oh. I don't have to go home yet," Blaine says, sounding overly happy. "Can I see your room? Do you have an X-Box?"

Kurt freezes.

"Go ahead, boys, I'll take care of clean up this time," Burt says, looking pleased.

Kurt is glaring daggers at him, but stands up. "Sure, let's go." His smile is strained.

"Awesome!" Blaine says, and follows Kurt up the stairs.

As soon as they’re in Kurt’s bedroom, Kurt closes the door and backs Blaine up to it. "I could kill you for this," he hisses.

Blaine just smiles; he was expecting this sort of reaction. "I'm not scared of you. You said we were friends."

"I said that to piss off your mom," Kurt all but screeches, throwing his hands up. "God, and to think, I actually kind of felt�bad�for you."

Blaine is a little touched by that, honestly. "For me?" Still, he came for a reason.� "That's weird, because I feel sorry for you."

Kurt frowns, mouth tight. "What for?"

"Because clearly you're trying very hard to be a good boy for dad. Or maybe you're trying to be a jerk at school. I can't tell."

Kurt looks like he’s trying not to blow a gasket.

"I don't get you," Blaine says, earnestly. "It's like you're two different people. Which one is the real you?"

“Nothing that I do is any of your business,” Kurt snaps.

Blaine steps forward, forcing Kurt a step back. “You made it my business when you slushied me on my first day of school.”

“That was to warn you to�back off—”

“Well it didn’t work!”

“What do I have to do to get you to leave me�alone? Do I have to sic Karofsky on you? Is that what it’ll take—”

Blaine inwardly balks at the thought, but crosses his arms and fixes Kurt with a look of defiance. “I’m not afraid of you. I know you’re hiding something, I know you’re faking�something--”

"Really, Blaine? Since you're so fucking observant, haven't you�noticed?" Kurt flattens a palm against the door next to Blaine's head, staring him down. "I'm different, and people who are different, people who stick out at this school? Are�tormented."

"By you."

Kurt's hand curls into a fist and bangs into the door. Blaine winces, but doesn’t move. "You think I started this? I do what I have to do."

"But why are you different?" Blaine asks, frowning. "Because you have a high voice?"

Kurt’s jaw drops in disbelief and anger. It takes a moment for him to reply. "And I'm skinny, unathletic, and I'm -- I used to be short. I used to look very young for my age."

Blaine studies Kurt’s face. No, there’s something else. Kurt seems worried, there is still this look of panic underneath his anger, like a wounded animal, and Blaine, the fox. Blaine doesn’t mean to be, but he shakes his head. Kurt is holding back and he needs to�know. "I don't buy it," he says. "That can't be it--"

“Do you need me to spell it out for you, Blaine? I’m�gay.” Kurt says it in a breath, barely pausing to take another. “And I don’t want anyone to know.”

Blaine feels his face heat up without knowing why. He wonders if it shows, if Kurt can tell.

“I-- oh.”

Kurt can't have noticed, though, because he is slowly backing away. He’s even paler than normal and looks like he’s about puke. "Oh god," he says, walking backwards until his shoulder hits the wall. He slides down, crouching on the floor. "Why did I just say that..."

The news isn’t as shocking for Blaine as it apparently is for Kurt. Not that Blaine suspected, but it’s just not a big deal. He’s known a few gay guys at Dalton. Rachel’s dads are gay. It’s not like he’s never met somebody like that before. Still, Blaine doesn't know how to respond. Kurt isn't a friend, but he isn't...well, Blaine doesn't know�what�he is.

Blaine decides that even if they aren’t friends, Kurt looks like he could use one right now, so he edges closer and hesitantly sits down next to him. "I won't tell," he says in a quiet voice. He may not like Kurt, he may have even wanted to give him some crap for the things he's done, but he would never, ever use this against him.

Kurt doesn't say anything, just covers his face with his hands, fingers tangling in his hair.

"I promise, Kurt," Blaine says, reaching out to touch Kurt's arm.

Kurt pushes his hand away and looks at him, gaze hard but eyes unmistakably watery. "Stop it, Blaine. You don't even like me."

"So?" Blaine snaps, clasping his own fingers like Kurt’s touch hurt them. "That doesn't mean I'm going to�out�you."

"Shh!�Fuck."

Blaine blushes, but lowers his voice. "I'm�not�that kind of person."

Kurt rubs his hand over his forehead, his eyes, trying to collect himself. He doesn't look at Blaine when he speaks up. "No one else knows. Not even my dad."

Only then is Blaine hit with the enormity of the situation. He wants to ask,�why me? But suspects Kurt won’t be able to come up with an answer anyway. It was a mistake, something that has probably been building up and accidentally spilled out.�No one has ever shared a secret like this with Blaine before, and he doesn't know how to handle it. Afraid he’s going to say the wrong thing, he doesn't say anything at all.

"So that's why," Kurt continues, voice raw, "I protect myself. No one's going to mess with me if I'm on the side no one messes with. It's logic, Blaine. This is Lima, not New York, or San Francisco, or whatever mythical places exist where people don't care if you're gay." He stares down at his knees. "I just want to get through high school with minimal torture."

Blaine is quiet for a long moment. "But don't you get it? You're doing to others exactly what you're afraid will happen to you."

Kurt's whips his head around to look at him. "I don't hurt anyone."

"Because slushies are all in good fun," Blaine counters. "Besides, you have shoved me."

"I don't enjoy it!" Kurt exclaims. "I'm sure you won't believe me, but I don't. I don't like being an asshole. I don't like having no friends. But I also don't want to get beat up and have my own ostracization beyond my control. You have no idea--" His hands fist the fabric of his jeans. "I try not to go out of my way to pick on people. It's usually required at the beginning of the year to set a precedent. To remind people to stay away from me. With you..."�

The corner of Kurt's mouth turns up just a little, but there’s a bitterness to it. "You fought back. So I had to fight harder." The tiny smile disappears. "I'm sorry I shoved you. What Karofsky said hit a little too close to home."

Blaine has already forgiven Kurt, and takes his hand. Kurt jerks it from his grasp, eyes flashing that same frightened anger.

"What? You're gay, you don't have the�plague." He takes Kurt's hand once more.

There is a faint tint to Kurt's cheeks, his features pinched. "Aren't you afraid I'm going to hit on you?"

Blaine lets out a laugh. "Is that what you think people will think?"

Kurt raises his eyebrows.

Blaine smiles. "No, I'm not afraid. You don't even like me."

Kurt’s mouth twists into a smirk. "True."

"Careful, I think your McKinley alter-ego is rubbing off on you," Blaine says.

"No, that's just me," Kurt says, nose upturned. "I may not like being a bully, but I am kind of a bitch."

Blaine laughs again, he can't help it.

Kurt smiles and gently sets Blaine’s hand back down on his own knee, and clears his throat. "Anyway," his voice softens. "Seriously. Thanks. For not freaking out on me."

"It doesn't bother me," Blaine says. "I knew a few guys at Dalton who were gay." At Kurt's curious look, he continues. "It’s an all-boys private school with a no harassment policy. I know one of them transferred there specifically because he'd been bullied."

Kurt seems to consider this. "Why'd you leave?"

"My dad's job." Blaine shrugs, frowning.

"You miss it?"

Blaine nods, clasping his fingers together in his lap.

Kurt’s eyes linger on Blaine’s hands. "I'm sorry."

Blaine smiles. "It's okay. I made some friends here, it's not so bad."

Kurt's eyebrow arches. "The glee club?"

"How'd you know?"

"I just do." Kurt shrugs a shoulder. "Same way anyone knows anyone else’s business at school. It just goes around."

"Oh. Well, yeah. I really like it. Everybody's nice, and I like singing." He peeks over at Kurt. "You should join."

"Glee club?" Kurt's reply positively drips with disdain.

Blaine meets Kurt’s disdain with sarcasm. "Yeah,�glee club. You can�sing."

"Never going to happen, it's probably one step below being openly gay."

Blaine frowns and feels an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Kurt seems to be denying himself so many things, all for image and reputation. "You can slushie me every day. It'd still be worth it."

Kurt's expression deflates. "You really are something else."

Blaine gives a questioning look, and Kurt just shakes his head.

"Well, anyway. We're performing at the pep assembly this Friday,” Blaine says. “Maybe you'll change your mind when you see how awesome we are. And I have the solo," he says, preening. Solos, he’s used to, but he hadn't expected to get one so quickly when he’d just joined the group. Everyone seemed happy to give it to him, they said no one appreciated them at the school assemblies. Blaine doesn't care, he just wants to perform.

Kurt groans. "Your funeral. You forget that I've gone here the last three years. Glee club performances have always been...interesting." He perks up. "In fact, I can't wait to see what happens. This is going to be funny."

"...You're excited about my social decline, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little," Kurt says.

"Rude."

Kurt grins.

"No, really. You're the worst friend ever. Best friend. Worst best friend," Blaine adds.

"Oh my god, you�know�I was just messing with your mom when I said that," Kurt says.

Blaine is beaming and tries to put an arm around Kurt. "Nope. It was a confession. A love confession."

Kurt tries to squirm out of his grasp, but Blaine just holds on tighter.

"I'll puke, I really will--"

"Best friends forever!"

"--all over you, because of how sick you're making me feel--"

"With love? I'm lovesick, too. I always wanted such a fashion-forward friend. Burberry, Kurt?"

"--I'm going to end you--"

"Can I borrow your Burberry? I'll swap you a Dolce and Gabanna button up," Blaine says.

Kurt stops fighting, interest piqued . "...Seriously?"

Blaine blinks. "Awww! Friends!" he bursts, and hugs Kurt to him.

Kurt sighs. "I hate you so much, you have no idea."

"Not when I bring you that D&G you won't," he says in a sing-song voice.

"...We'll see."

----

Kurt walks Blaine to the door. Burt is watching football in the other room, and Blaine calls out to thank him for dinner. He turns to Kurt, who is frowning again, worrying his lower lip.

"Promise you won't tell?" Kurt asks in a voice so quiet Blaine almost can't hear.

"I promise," Blaine says.

Kurt still looks unsure, as though out of the safety of his bedroom, Blaine's word suddenly mean nothing. Blaine doesn’t blame Kurt. They do barely know each other and it isn't like Kurt has much reason to trust him. He isn't Blaine, who tends to trust people immediately and automatically.

"You want to pinky swear?" Blaine asks.

Kurt looks at him as if he's just spoken some alien language. "Excuse me?"

"Pinky swear." Blaine holds up his pinky.

Kurt huffs out a laugh. "Uh. Okay." He holds up his pinky, which Blaine clamps onto with his own.

Blaine leans in. "Your secret's safe with me," he says, smiling.

Kurt looks up from where he's been staring at their pinkies, a little dazed, and nods.�