It is late March and still quite cold despite winter coming to a close. Blaine and Kurt have not mentioned the weekend where Kurt confesses his attraction and Blaine responds in quite possibly the rudest fashion imaginable. Through the grapevine Kurt hears that Blaine and his girlfriend have broken up. The news doesn’t excite Kurt as he thought it would, possibly because girlfriend or no, Blaine still wouldn’t be interested in him. Since that awful conversation a few weeks ago, Blaine has not contacted Kurt and Kurt has made no effort to contact him either. In fact, Kurt is trying to put Blaine out of his mind entirely because thinking about him just makes Kurt sad. He now knows why unrequited love his so tragic and why a crush is called a crush. He continues to mope frequently and berate himself for making a fool out of himself confessing his feeling. Of course Blaine wouldn’t reciprocate. I’m plain, boring and not anywhere as interesting as Blaine is. Depressing thoughts ran through his head frequently and he would criticize himself constantly.

One Sunday evening, Kurt was home alone, his parents away for the night. He was sitting in his room in baggy worn clothes listening to some music when he heard a knock on the door. His heart began to thud, who would be down there? A serial killer? Kurt wondered if these were his last moments until he realised a killer or burglar wouldn’t knock. He crept down the stairs and hovered by the door. Kurt stood on his toes and peaked out the peephole. He saw a silhouette of a man with curly hair soaking wet from the rain that was pouring down outside. Who in the hell? Kurt slowly opened the door and peered around it to see Blaine. Wet, lost looking and very sad. Kurt’s heart leapt and hurt seeing him like that. Wearing a tee shirt, a light jumper and jeans that were all soaked through, clinging to his body. Kurt managed to peal his eyes of his body to notice that Blaine wasn’t wearing shoes. He swung the door open fully while he assessed him. What the hell is he doing here? Kurt voiced those thoughts to Blaine while standing with his arms crossed, a disgruntled expression on my face.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said pathetically, his voice croaking, “I had nowhere else to go.” Kurt softened, putting his arm around Blaine and leading him inside his bedroom. He gave him some of his clothes and some privacy to change. Once he was done, Kurt moved to sit beside him on the bed.

“What happened?” Kurt asked, taking a seat beside Blaine, careful not to lean to closely so the wetness didn’t transfer onto his clothes.

Blaine took a deep breath and pushed his curly hair out of his eyes. “I got into a big fight with my mum, it was about something stupid. We were screaming at each other and she told me to get out so I ran out of the house, forgetting a cell phone and shoes.” Blaine looked down at his feet then continued, “I remember you telling me ages ago that if I was ever in trouble I could come over and you gave me intructions about how to get here. So I walked.” Kurt looked at him, horrified,

“That is a forty minute walk!” he exclaimed. No wonder Blaine was soaking. Blaine shrugged.

“I didn’t really notice. I just kept walking. Kurt, I just want to say how sorry I am for those things I said to you. I was awful and it was uncalled for.” Blaine looked Kurt in the eye, turning to face him with their face inches apart. “You are a wonderful, kind human being that anyone would be lucky to have. Will you forgive me?” Blaine’s eyes shone with sadness and sincerity. Kurt nodded in his head, accepting Blaine's apology. How could he not, the man was adorable! And suddenly, in a move that was very unKurt like, he moved his head forward until his lips were pressed to Blaine's. He was surprised at first at how cold they were but began to move his lips enthusiastically until Blaine began to respond, taking Kurt's bottom lip between his and sucking on it. Kurt brought his hands up and cupped Blaine’s cheeks, pressing harder into the kiss. Blaine’s tongue began to peak out after a few moments, asking permission into Kurt's mouth. Kurt accepted, opening his mouth and meeting Blaine’s tongue with his own. Blaine pushed Kurt backward on the bed so he was lying on his back and Blaine brought his leg onto the other side of Kurt so he was straddling him, sitting on his hips. Blaine pressed himself even further into the kiss while rocking his hips against Kurt’s. Kurt gasped at the sensation, his thin pants leaving not very much to the imagination. Blaine bucked again as him mouth left Kurt's and trailed down his neck. He stopped for a minute to pull Kurt’s shirt over his head and his followed too. Blaine lay flat on Kurt so they could feel the skin-to-skin contact of their chests touching. Blaine started kissing around Kurt's jaw line as he continued to buck against Kurt. The sensation of Blaine’s cock rubbing against Kurt's, even through several layers of cotton, was too much for Kurt and his orgasm ripped through him. Blaine continued to rock his hips harder and faster into Kurt’s until he too fell over the edge into ecstasy.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily. Stunned by what happened, so quickly it seemed. Eventually Kurt got up quietly looking over to see that Blaine had fallen asleep. Kurt ran his hand through Blaine’s curly lock of hair then pulled the sheets on his bed over him so that Blaine would be comfortable and warm when he awoke. Kurt went into his bathroom and had a shower to clean himself up changing his pants then curling up next to Blaine in bed. Kurt lay there for a while. He couldn’t believe what just happened. It happened so fast but it was so perfect, Blaine’s lips on his felt like home. Kurt closed his eyes and for the first time in a very long time, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

XXXXXXXXX

Next thing Kurt new, it was morning. 6am and his alarm was going off very loudly. He rolled over to shut it off and then suddenly remembered the night before. His eyes slammed open and he looked to where Blaine was lying when he fell a sleep to see a cold empty bed. Blaine was long gone. Kurt frowned and checked his phone to see that he had one new message from Blaine. He opened it slowly, taking his time, his hands shaking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it said.

Kurt, I am sorry for last night. We can’t speak of it again; it was a one-time thing. I meant what I said about being sorry for what I said. Please don’t mention last night to anyone ever. I think it was better if we didn’t see each other for a while. –B

Tears ran down Kurt's face as he reread the message over and over again. But then abruptly and suddenly he sat up and stubbornly decided that screw Blaine. Kurt got up, got changed and went to school determinedly. He passed Blaine in the hall but did not say anything or look his way. Did not acnologe his presence. He breezed passed. Kurt vowed then that he would not spare another thought about Blaine Anderson or another wistful glance his way. Never again. Someone who would use him for a make out session and a way to get off rather than treating him with the respect he deserve did not merit Kurt Hummels attention.

And while during the day this vow stayed true, Kurt pushed Blaine out of his mind. Shedding no more tears for the selfish boy. But at night Kurt was haunted of dreams of Blaine. In the dreams Kurt and Blaine would be together, holding hands, kissing gently, smiling happily at each other and serenading each other with songs. Kurt wouldn’t admit it to himself but late at night when he woke up crying, loneliness plaguing him, that he missed Blaine. He missed his attention, his smiles, and his opinions. And so one night at 5am in late May when Kurt picked up a pen and paper and penned a poem.

I remember our days together, the good, the sad, and the wonderful.

I remember that piggyback race, eyes closed, cheek to cheek. I cared about nothing else.

I remember our first dance, awkward, not quite holding hands. I still think of you when I hear that song.

I remember the depression and how we talked each other out of it, late into the night.

I remember running to school early every morning so I could be with you sooner.

I remember when you said, “When we’re older…” and I thought we would last that long.

I remember my family problems and you talked me through it from 200 kilometres away.

I remember when you told me I wasn’t smart enough, handsome enough, funny enough.

I remember when I couldn’t stop talking about you; I thought I had finally found my someone.

I remember when you told me I was your best friend, and that was all we would ever be.

I remember the distance you put between us.

I remember when everyone else said we belong together and I believed them.

And I remember when you stopped talking to me. The depression came back and I cried every night.

I remember. Do you?

The tears flowed as Kurt wrote the words, scribbling them out then rewriting until he was happy with the result. And then he sobbed, for the friendship he missed and for himself for being too trusting, too weak. But since that day, Kurt never shed another tear for Blaine Anderson.