It felt so good to be able to text Kurt again and to get a response. Just to enter a Good morning and to get one in return felt so amazing it made it difficult to sit still all day. Blaine felt like singing and rushing around giggling every time he thought about Kurt. If someone had told him this time last year that something as simple as a text from a boy would make him feel this way, he'd have thought that person was off their medication.

            Because the Warblers no longer had competitions to prepare for, he was graced with the day off, and waved to his friends after class rather than following them to the senior commons like normal. He was going to meet Kurt on the stage that afternoon, and he was beside himself with excitement.

            The entire way to McKinley he was singing loudly to the radio, and although trepidations remerged as he pulled into the parking lot, he tried to keep his confidence up. He sat in his car gripping the steering wheel listening to Heart blare through the radio, "What about love? Don't you want someone to care about you? What about love? Don't let it slip away..." before he decided those were not the right lyrics to motivate him right now and turned the car off.

            Whether or not Finn or the New Directions or bullies or anyone else were waiting inside that building, Kurt was in there, probably standing upon that stage looking like a movie star, and Blaine felt like he could brave hell to see him. He stepped out of the car, locking it, fixing the scarf around his neck and straightening his coat before heading inside, taking the exact same route he'd taken when he first entered McKinley before Christmas to sing with Kurt.

            This time, however, when he got to the stage, there was no melody wafting through the curtains. In fact, there was no sound at all, and when he walked in and stood in the middle of the stage and called, "Hello?" there was no reply. Kurt was nowhere to be seen or heard.

            His shoulders sagged and he turned around. McKinley had been out for longer than Dalton so unless he was being held after in a class, which was entirely possible, he'd expected Kurt to already be there. He called again, "Kurt?" just to hear himself echo slightly, and peered into the empty audience. The house lights were off and he could see nothing. At least the main lights had been left on, and, he noticed, the piano was still sitting on stage on the opposite side from where it was when he'd last been there.

            He walked over to it, checking his phone and finding no new messages, and he sat down at the keyboard. He took off his coat and scarf and set them beside him on the bench.

            Even though the Warblers had no competitions to prepare for, they would continue practicing, and he was hoping that if Wes didn't remain too angry at him for leaping into the audience and likely costing them Regionals, he wanted to enlist the Warblers to serenade Kurt for his birthday. It was a few months away still, but he'd begun working on an arrangement that he wanted to try. He'd taken the David Cassidy classic, "I Think I Love You" and turned it into a power ballad, intending to have the back up in a cappella rock-style and the melody very romantic. Ultimately he wanted to mash it with another song, but he hadn't decided on one yet and mash ups were not exactly the Warblers' strong suit. He played a few chords on the piano, trying to remind himself of the exact way the arrangement went and regretting having forgotten to bring his notebook with the sheet music in it with him.

            If Kurt wasn't going to show up for a little while, he might as well work on music while he waited. There was no better way to distract from all the possibilities that accounted for his absence that Blaine didn't want to let himself consider. He adjusted himself on the seat and started in on the opening, did the intro again, fixing a few notes, then launched into the first verse.

            "I'm sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream when all at once I wake up from something that keeps knocking at my brain. Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head and spring up in my bed, screaming out the words I dread..."

            He heard the squeak of a door opening and looked up, just short of the next five words. His fingers kept playing, following the same chord progressions, but his voice fell silent. He couldn't see around the curtains or into the seating area to figure out which door had opened, but he heard the door close again with a soft click and focused on the audience. After a moment his fingers stopped moving also and he called out, "Kurt?"

            "Blaine?" was the immediate response, and he stood up and looked around. It was Kurt's soft voice, sounding a bit shy.

            "Where are you?" he asked, looking around.

            "Down here." Blaine peered into the sea of darkness and moved around the piano. He reached the edge of the stage and squinted as Kurt said, "Sorry I'm late."

            "It's okay. How come you're coming in from the audience?" he asked, grinning as Kurt finally came into view. He reached out a hand and pulled him up onto the stage, then noticed his hair was damp and his skin was just slightly blue. "Are you okay?"

            Kurt nodded and hugged Blaine tightly. He couldn't help but notice that his clothes felt slightly cool and smelled like they'd just been washed. He clung to the boy, squeezing his waist and enjoying the curve of his body under his hands. "I meant to be here on time, I just got held up," Kurt explained, nestling his head against Blaine's shoulder.

            Blaine frowned. As much as he liked the brush of Kurt's nose against his neck, he was suddenly concerned. He pushed Kurt away from him by the hips and Kurt very reluctantly loosened his grip on Blaine's shoulders, staring at the place his head had been rather than meeting Blaine's eyes for several seconds. "What happened?" Blaine pressed.

            The corner of Kurt's mouth pulled slightly and then he closed his eyes and shrugged. "Slushie. I had to go clean up."

            Blaine's eyebrows raised and he repeated, "Slushie?"

            Kurt nodded, "It's no big deal. I didn't like that outfit much anyway."

            Then Blaine finally noticed what Kurt was wearing; a plain, white, long sleeved shirt that was obviously too big for him and was definitely WalMart brand. His pants were dark jeans that were still damp in places and the blue tint on his skin wasn't a trick of the light. When Blaine looked closely he could see that the food dye really had tinted his skin. He worked his jaw, trying to come up with something reasonable to say and then finally asked, "Whose shirt is that?"

            Kurt visibly blushed and sucked in his lips. His arms had fallen limply at his side and it wasn't hard to see how much it was killing him to have to wear something that didn't look absolutely fabulous on him and then admit that aloud. One of their first conversations had been about clothes and Blaine knew how much they meant to him.

Blaine's hands slid up Kurt's chest and down his arms, stopping at the elbows while he continued to examine the boy. "It's Sam's shirt," Kurt said, feigning nonchalance. "He had an extra, I didn't. Stupid of me. Luckily everything I was wearing was from last season because, you know, you can't get blue out of anything."

            Blaine let out a breath to calm himself and frowned. "I... I thought slushies were illegal here now?" he tried desperately.

            Kurt shrugged and took a step backward, "They are. I mean, they're supposed to be. This is actually the first slushie facial any of us have had since the law went up. That's progress."

            "Well... Who did it?"

            "Just a jock," Kurt replied, shrugging again.

            Blaine floundered, then asked, "Is he getting suspended?"

            Kurt gave him a look, half smiling, mostly incredulous. "Blaine, isn't not a big deal."

            "Yes it is! How could he do this to you?!"

            "It's not like things were going to change overnight. I'm used to it. Or, I should be used to it. It was stupid of me to not bring a change of clothes..."

            "It is not stupid!" Blaine's face was firm and he could no longer make his eyes meet Kurt's. He was scanning he floor of the stage like it would suddenly come to life and give him answers. "You shouldn't have to, Kurt! You shouldn't have to pack clothes and anticipate getting... getting slushied." His eyes snapped back to Kurt's. "It wasn't that same guy, was it? The one who kissed..."

            Kurt stepped back toward him. "No. It wasn't Dave. It wasn't anything, it just held me up. Can we just forget about it?"

            "But this is-"

            Kurt cut off his argument, "Can you just kiss me and let us forget about it?"

            There was no denying that that shut his brain up quickly. He did want to kiss Kurt. He wanted to kiss him and hug him and enjoy being there with him, but every nerve in his body was practically trembling. "Sometimes...I wish you could just come to Dalton and I could protect you," he whispered.

            Kurt smiled, a tiny, but real and genuine smile. He touched Blaine's cheek and tilted his head down to catch his boyfriend's eyes. "Just kiss me."

            Blaine complied. He pulled Kurt close, cupped the boy's cheek in his hand, paying attention to how cool and recently scrubbed the skin felt, and pressed their lips together. His eyes rolled closed and he slid his other arm around Kurt's waist to hold him close. Even though he tried to focus on how sweet kissing his boyfriend felt, he found himself focused on hating the shirt. He hated it and everything Kurt's wearing it meant. He had to keep swatting away the enticing little voice in his head that was telling him it could all be solved if he just pulled the shirt off of him. He leaned in and parted his lips and felt Kurt do the same.

            When they paused for breath Kurt asked softly, "What were you playing?"

            "...What?"

            "When I walked in. What was that song?"

            Blaine could feel his face grow warm. "It was nothing. Just something I'm working on."

            Kurt shifted his weight from one foot to the other and ran his fingers across Blaine's shoulder. "It sounded nice."

            "It's not finished..."

            Kurt nodded slowly and pressed his lips together, staring down at Blaine's. "So... our date..."

            "Yes, our date," Blaine repeated, feeling somewhat more relaxed and comfortable again when those big soft eyes glanced at him.

            Kurt looked down at himself and sighed, "I'm not dressed for it."

            "Then we don't have to go anywhere," Blaine countered. "And you always dress so perfectly, this will just be a...a frame of reference for what a difference the right outfit makes!" he smiled but Kurt's face froze and he immediately tried to tear away.

            "Oh my god, I have to go change," Kurt moaned. Blaine caught him around the waist and pulled him in close while he struggled half heartedly to get away. "I didn't realize it was that bad. You can't see me like this."

            "Hey! Stop, you look perfect!" Blaine laughed. After a moment of mock struggling, Kurt stopped and Blaine was suddenly aware of the way his body reacted to being pressed against Kurt's back. The way he was holding him, his palms were spread nicely across Kurt's stomach, which was flat and firmer than expected, and his chest which had slightly more definition than Blaine had fantasized about or been able to detect through hugs and layers of clothing. He took the time to appreciate every curve of muscle beneath his fingers and to love that his chin could rest just above Kurt's shoulder blade and he could smell his neck, just below the hairline. Kurt's legs were long and he was slightly taller, so his soft, beautifully shaped ass hit Blaine just below the stomach, and it made him want to press in and up. Suddenly all the feelings were rushing south and Blaine pulled back and turned Kurt around, not wanting to have to address the way his body was reacting to everything he wanted, everything that was right there in front of him and beneath his touch. He didn't want to make Kurt uncomfortable.

            When Kurt turned to face him, his eyes were unfocused and his lips slightly parted. His glance darted down from Blaine's eyes to his lips, then he took a breath and blinked, shifting uncomfortably.

            Blaine knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Kurt, "I don't care about the clothes. I just want you. I want you right now and I want you hard. Bad. I want you all the time. Please kiss me again. Let me tear that shirt off you." But he tried to clean up the sentiment before he forced it out of his mouth. "Kurt... the clothes don't matter. They're like... they're like sprinkles. On ice cream. They're fun, but they're not the important part. You're what matters, and I'm just... I'm glad you're here."

            "Blaine..." he paused and then it was just, "...Me too."

            For a moment they were just looking at each other, his hands resting on Kurt's biceps and Kurt's hands touching his elbows. He knew that he could easily spin Kurt around again, wrap his arms back around the boy, lick his cheek to see if it still tasted like whatever flavoring was in the slushie, run his hands up beneath the shirt, feel Kurt's soft skin properly for the first time... and Kurt probably wouldn't even object.

            His fantasy cut short when Kurt's expression changed. His head tilted to the side and his eyes closed, eyebrows knitting like something was the matter. "Blaine...?" he started off.

            "I have another song," Blaine quickly cut him off. When Kurt opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows in confusion, Blaine continued, knowing he was rambling but hoping it was still enough to make Kurt forget whatever was bothering him and to distract himself from how much he desperately needed to reach down and readjust himself before the discomfort drove him crazy. "Not the song from before, but another song. I... I'll start us off if you'll dance with me. Please?"

            Kurt smirked, "Dancing in a WalMart shirt? My dream come true."

            "I was kind of hoping you'd dance with me, not the shirt," Blaine grinned and Kurt chuckled, shrugged and nodded. They repositioned their arms so that Kurt's left hand was on Blaine's shoulder and Blaine's right was around Kurt's back. Blaine took the opportunity to just shuffle a little in a way that made the way his briefs cling to him slightly more comfortable, then he pulled them together so their feet were staggered and his hip was positioned close to Kurt's crotch. He realized immediately it wasn't a good idea and relaxed the hold when he felt the slight bulge in Kurt's pants and it occurred to him that feeling that would do nothing for his own discomfort. "You'll just have to imagine the saxophone at the beginning," he said, to keep his mind off it.

            "What song is this?" Kurt asked, skeptically.

            Blaine bit his lip before answering, "It's... maybe not the most appropriate song... for right now. But I would still like to dance to it... with you."

            Kurt tried to suppress the smile that was growing in his cheeks, but the sparkle in his eye betrayed him. "Do I know it?"

            "You might..." Blaine whispered, "I'll hum the intro."

            As he hummed, they began to sway. Kurt wasn't sure if he recognized it, or if he was just being lulled into infatuation by the timbre of Blaine's vocal chords. He lay his head down on Blaine's shoulder and wondered if this is how couples felt at prom, slow dancing with their dates.

As the introduction built into the lyrics, Blaine gripped Kurt's hand and Kurt could feel Blaine's hip move against him. It was lucky that he had taken an interest in dance and knew both how to lead and follow fairly well, because he reacted just in time as Blaine began to lead the steps.

            "I feel so unsure," Blaine sang. Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's shoulder to looked into his eyes. His voice was low and thick. Kurt's lips parted. "As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor." He was watching Blaine's lips like he could see the words coming out of them and was drawing them into his own mouth. "As the music dies, something in your eyes calls to mind a silver screen and all its sad goodbyes..."

            Kurt smiled and cut in, taking over the music while Blaine led the steps. Of course he knew this song, and Blaine was right; it wasn't the most appropriate song for the moment, but it definitely encapsulated what he'd felt those two weeks, cutting Blaine off and feeling like a terrible person. "I'm never gonna dance again," he sang. Blaine didn't even try to harmonize. He just let Kurt take over the chorus. "Guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it's easy to pretend, I know you're not a fool..." In a lot of ways, it was also exactly what he was feeling. Until the slushie hit him right after school, all he'd had on his mind all day was that folder and the articles Finn had tried to show him about Blaine. Knowing that it was out there, and that Finn had it and that he knew about it now, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd betrayed Blaine's trust, or that maybe Finn could still be right, and he felt even guiltier for thinking that. "I should have known better than to cheat a friend and waste this chance that I've been given, so I'm never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you..."

            Blaine dipped him back, humming the saxophone's part again. Kurt giggled slightly, more as a cover for the guilt than out of mirth. He was spun around before being locked into the dance hold again.

            "Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend," Blaine took up again, taking them in a tight circle and then resting the side of his face against Kurt's cheek while he sang on, "To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind, there's no comfort for the truth, pain is all you find..."

            This time they harmonized through the chorus. Kurt couldn't help but notice the way their faces pressed together, so close, but suddenly so insistent on not facing each other. His heartbeat quickened. Blaine started in on the next verse, "Tonight the music seems so loud, I wish that we could lose this crowd..." then Kurt cut in.

            "Maybe it's better this way, we'd hurt each other with the things we want to say."

            Blaine came back in, "We could have been so good together..."

            "We could have lived this dance forever," Kurt sang back, noticing that their voices were dropping away into murmurs even at the crescendo of the song. "But now, who's gonna dance with me?..."

            "Please stay..." Blaine didn't even sing it, he just whispered it right against Kurt's ear, like a prayer. It struck through Kurt's heart how much of a break up song it was and suddenly he didn't want that. He desperately didn't want that. He leaned against Blaine's cheek, eyes wide. They'd stopped dancing. They'd stopped moving, they'd stopped singing. Kurt dropped Blaine's hand. Both of his arms snaked around the back of Blaine's shoulders and he pulled him close. He closed his eyes and focusing on Blaine's breath against his neck.

            Several seconds passed. Blaine's arms found their way around Kurt's back and they just held each other. Finally Blaine said, "Sorry, that song was a bad idea."

            Kurt pulled back, making Blaine look at him, taking his cheeks in each hand and looking into his eyes before kissing his nose then pressing their foreheads together. "No. It was beautiful, Blaine..."

            Blaine wanted to feel calm and wonderful and relaxed the way he normally felt with Kurt, and he loved the pressure of their foreheads pressed together, like they were sharing thoughts, but instead he just hated that shirt again. He hated that Kurt had needed the shirt, he hated that it was some other guy's, someone he couldn't immediately put a face to, probably someone beautiful. He hated that Kurt's friends meant so much to him but had still forced them apart. He hated that they hadn't stopped the slushie, or the bullying, or that kiss... he hated that look Finn had given him after the New Directions won on Saturday. He hated that thinking about all that made certain parts of his body ache with recollection. He hated that he'd forgotten the lyrics of the song were so painful before he'd sung them and that "There's no comfort in the truth," was so bitterly true and obvious. He hated it when he realized where the last place he'd heard that song was...

            Kurt's lips were touching his, softly, gently. It was a reassuring peck that lingered and made Blaine's lips tingle in response. He forced his eyes to watch Kurt's as those soft hands left his cheeks and ran down his neck and shoulders. "Blaine..." he started again, "There's something I have to tell you..."

            The panic started in his chest and spread outwards. He kept telling himself, "Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Blaine, calm down. It's going to be okay." but his palms started sweating. His breath grew short. Whatever Kurt had to say, whatever he was thinking, suddenly it all sounded like a break up. He clung tighter to that damn white shirt. "What?" he asked, sounding shaky and afraid.

            "But before I say it," Kurt amended quickly, "Blaine..."

            "Yes?" just as shaky and scared as before. His eyes were closed tightly now, trying to keep out the storm.

            "Blaine," he said more softly, and he touched Blaine's cheek gently again and waited until Blaine opened his eyes to continue, "You just need to know... I don't want to freak you out..."

            Blaine was already freaked out. He felt so freaked that all his muscles were coiled and tense and he was focusing on keeping himself calm enough that he didn't try to lash out when it hit him.

            "But... I think I love you, Blaine." When no response came after several seconds, Kurt swallowed a sudden lump and continued. "So I think you should know-"

            Blaine's arms were up around Kurt's back, over his shoulder, wrapping him up, holding him tightly. His lips nearly smashed into Kurt's, all the energy that had been building up released into a powerful kiss and the "Oh thank god, thank god, thank god, thank god," mantra flying through his head manifested itself in, "Kurt, I love you too," shot in between kisses and breaths.

            Kurt giggled a little as Blaine's lips left his mouth and hungrily attached to his cheek and jaw before stopping so he could press his nose against Kurt's neck and just hold him and breathe. "Blaine..." Kurt tried again.

            "Damn, Kurt, I was so scared," Blaine whispered, "For a second there... I was so scared you were going to say something else."

            It took a moment for Kurt's confusion to register what the "something else" was and then he smiled, running his hand smoothly over the back of Blaine's hair. "I told you I'd never say goodbye to you," he reminded his boyfriend.

            "I know," Blaine agreed, the smiled, moving back to stare into Kurt's green eyes. He was so glad that the auditorium seemed to be an unpopular place, and that no one, not even a janitor had walked in on them yet. "I guess "Careless Whisper" just had me feeling all emotional."

            Smiling, nodding, Kurt became serious suddenly again, "But there is something I need to tell you."

            "Okay," Blaine agreed, confident that at least he had Kurt. At least the exorbitant euphoria he'd felt all day was something he'd be able to feel again.

            "It's about Finn..." Kurt continued.

            "Okay..." Suddenly Blaine's mouth felt dry.

            "Can we sit down?" Kurt asked softly.

            Blaine frowned. "Kurt?" he asked, but they sat down anyway, not on the stage floor, but crossing all the way over to the piano bench. Kurt took both of Blaine's hands in his.

            "Blaine. Finn has a folder of... information about you."

            Everything shut down for a second. In Blaine's mind, clocks slowed to hollow, echoing ticks and everything waited for reality to catch up with what Kurt had just said. "...What?"

            "He said it was the reason we shouldn't be together," Kurt's voice was soft and level, "He tried to get me to look at it, and I didn't. I didn't read anything, Blaine..."

            "What is it?" Blaine's voice was soft and sharp.

            "Hmm?"

            "What's in the folder?"

            Kurt took a breath. The grip on his hands was becoming tighter and he stroked his thumbs against the back of Blaine's hands to try to calm him down. "Information. Things he shouldn't have about you. Records... newspaper clippings..."

            "... About me?" Kurt just nodded. Blaine was visibly tensing. His mind was racing. "How... how do you know what they are? I thought you didn't read them."

            "I didn't. I just saw them. He handed it to me and I swear, I didn't read anything."

            "How... how could he have that? Why would he..."

            "I don't know," Kurt said softly, "But Blaine..."

            "Now he knows," Blaine stood up suddenly, dropping Kurt's hands. "Now he knows everything! How could he?" His voice was rising and Kurt flinched visibly. He could see how uncomfortable his boyfriend looked and there was that damn too-big t-shirt, but his heartbeat was racing now and his mind was going crazy pouring over everything that could possibly have been included, everything Finn could possibly know, everything Kurt may have accidentally seen.

            "He had no right," Kurt agreed, "I'll get it from him and I'll get it back to you. Or I'll destroy it. I don't want to know those things about you until you're ready to tell me."

            Blaine knew that Kurt was speaking, but all he could hear was the watery sound of his own heart beat in his ears. He had already come up with four good ways to maim or mangle Finn Hudson. How dare he look into his life and judge him like that? They'd only spoken to each other a few times! How dare he dredge this up?

Blaine's fight or flight reflex had kicked in and he was firmly set to flight. He didn't want to be here anymore to find out whether or not Kurt knew about the time he'd been hospitalized, the trauma, the injuries he'd sustained, the therapy, the reactions he'd had afterwards, the change in therapy, the fear, classes, problems he'd had when he finally transferred to Dalton, the things he was so ashamed of and had taken him so long and so many visits to professionals and lessons and so much therapy to suppress.

            "I have to go," Blaine said sharply, grabbing his coat and ignoring the scarf when it slipped to the floor.

            Kurt scooped it up and stood, calling out to him as he blindly ran into a curtain, then batted it out of the way as he made his way out the same door he'd entered from. "Blaine! Wait!"

            "Don't follow me!" he warned.

            Blaine slammed his way out the door. He had to get out of there as fast as possible. Both the desperate want to punch something and make the problem go away and knowing he needed to escape it and remove himself non-confrontationally were throbbing through him.

He could hear the footsteps quickening behind him and he sped up too, just slightly, a pang of fear clouding his vision as he flashed back to lines from one of the classes he'd been sent to, a rape prevention class in which he'd been the only guy. He felt like he was being chased, like he was being trapped, and here he was in public school again. He had to remind himself that he'd be okay. He'd been to those self-defense classes they offered young women. He'd taken up boxing. He'd be okay. He'd come out alive.

Rows and rows of lockers. It was like he was back at his old school again. Back in the places he couldn't handle. He couldn't force himself to remember where he was or what he was charging away from.

            A hand touched his shoulder and he didn't even think. He spun around, catching the arm and wheeling, pulling its owner off of him and slamming him hard into the lockers.

            The clatter rang through the empty halls, echoing and resounding back. His eyes went wide.

            Kurt's eyes were closed tight, he fell back against the lockers for stability after the initial shock had caused him to bounce back off of them. His face was screwed up in pain and his teeth were clenched hard. His knees wobbled and he bent forward slightly, gasping for breath, taking the arm that Blaine had grabbed and cradling it with his other hand.

            Blaine backed away and stood, shocked, in the middle of the hall, then he turned away from Kurt toward the row of lockers opposite, and punched the closest one hard with his bare fist.