Whether you love what you love
Or live in divided ceaseless revolt against it
What you love is your fate

Guilty of Dust - Frank Bidart

Dalton Academy is beautiful. Three stories of imposing red brick and wrought-iron gates, marble floors and chandeliers. Kurt can’t for the life of him figure out how they keep it any decent state with five hundred odd teenage boys tramping about. The drapes in the entrance hall alone make him want to swoon, and that’s before he’s even begun to appreciate the leather lounge and antique end tables in the small alcove where he’s been directed to wait.

“Good morning Mr. Hummel, Welcome to Dalton Academy. If you’d like to step into my office?” Headmaster Jenkins is a soft-spoken older man, his thick hair rapidly greying, the barest hint of colour still left in his beard. He has warm dark eyes that somehow make Kurt feel at ease, even with his all his worries about entering a new school.

“Now, I understand you had problems with bullying at your previous school?” Jenkins looks down at the file on his desk, embossed with Hummel, Kurt Elizabeth.

“Some of the other students considered my sexuality a personal insult.” Kurt keeps his voice calm, still not certain this isn’t too good to be true.

“Well, as I’m sure you are aware, Dalton has a zero-tolerance harassment policy. All reports of bullying are taken seriously and followed up on. You may also be interested to know we have an active GSA. I am confident you will find a place here.”

Kurt sits silently, overwhelmed. He still can’t quite believe he’s going to be safe here, protected. No-one’s going to hurt him, no-one will shove him into lockers or throw slushies at him or corner him in the change room after gym class.

“Here’s your information packet. You’ll find your class schedule and dorm room assignment inside. Unfortunately we didn’t have any singles available, but your roommate is a well-respected member of the Dalton community. I believe you’ll get along well.”

Kurt lets himself be ushered into the hallway where a dark-haired boy waits. He’s a little shorter than Kurt, stockier, but holds himself with confidence. The sound of their footsteps catches his attention, his handsome face breaking into a wide smile, the kind that exists only in magazines and movie screens, and Kurt’s heart flutters against his breastbone.

“Your roommate, Mr Hummel.” Jenkins says, sweeping his arm towards the boy, who quickly reaches out a hand in greeting.

“Blaine Anderson.” He says, his voice as warm and inviting as his outstretched hand and Kurt hopes he’s everything this first impression suggests he is.

“Kurt Hummel.” Blaine’s hand is warm and firm against his, and Kurt feels the barest hint of a steady pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Your bags were delivered to our room a little while ago. I’ve cleared my stuff for you and you have your own closet. Oh, and I promise I don’t snore.” Kurt can’t help but give a small, shy smile.

“Mr Anderson is the Warblers featured soloist this year. I believe you were in your previous school’s Glee Club?” Headmaster Jenkins says with the tiniest hint of suggestion in his voice, and Blaine’s eyes light up.

“The Warblers are always looking for new members, I can get you an audition if you want?”

“Thank you.” Kurt says, a little breathlessly. “That’d be great.” Of course he would have tried out for the Warblers anyway, but it couldn’t hurt to have the featured soloist to put in a good word could it?

That is, provided Blaine really does like him. He’ll settle for getting along with him, truth be told. He doesn’t need a best friend here, he doesn’t need friends at all. Acceptance is already more than he could hope for.

“Blaine and yourself are excused from today’s classes, I suggest you use the time to settle in and become acquainted.” Jenkins smiles, shakes Kurt’s hand, and disappears back into his office, leaving the two boys alone in the hall.

“Come on, I’ll show you our room.” Blaine smiles the dazzling smile again, and Kurt finds himself feeling slightly lightheaded. He can’t even find it in himself to object when Blaine offers to carry his satchel.

“Now, I said I cleared my stuff, but that’s not entirely true.” Blaine says as they walk down a narrow hall with doors lining each side, stopping in front of one with a silver 14 on it.

“Here we are, home sweet home.” Blaine says as he unlocks the door and it swings open.

The room is decently sized, though by no means what anyone could describe as overly spacious. A large window with heavy blue curtains dominates one side, with two single beds tucked underneath and a desk at the end of both. Opposite are two doors. In-built closets, Kurt assumes, perhaps a little more pleased with that than he should be. There’s a shelf running the length of the wall above each bed too, but that isn’t what draws his attention.

“Well someone’s a Broadway fan.” He murmurs and Blaine gives a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah. I can take them down if you like, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but-”

“Blaine, I think I’d cry if you took a single one of these down.” The walls -a hideous shade of beige- are covered in Broadway posters. Everything from West Side Story to Wicked -which Kurt is pleased to note hangs above his bed.

“Oh, good to know.” Blaine breathes, stepping into the room and sitting on his bed. The duvet is red, and Kurt silently deducts points for Dalton’s originality, smirking as he looks down at his own red duvet and adds a few for school pride.

“Bathrooms down the hall, there are signs so you won’t get lost. Dining hall is downstairs, and there’s always something out if you’re hungry. The fridges are pretty much free run too, but if you want anything good you have to get in fast on Monday morning. Teenage boys, you know?”

“And there I was thinking getting away from my step-brother might free me from such displays.” Blaine laughs.

“Well, when they say all boys school, they really do mean all boys.”

“Clearly.” Kurt sits down on his own bed, contemplating unpacking his suitcase and deciding that’s a task he isn’t entirely up to just yet.

“So you said you sing right?”

On Wednesday, true to his word, Blaine gets Kurt an audition with the Warblers. Or rather, he walks into the meeting with Kurt in tow, announced to the council he’s found them a countertenor and looks expectant.

“Warbler Blaine, Sectionals is in one week and we simply don’t have the time to break in a new member.” Wes says sternly. Kurt already met him in his French II class and has him pegged as the average private school over-achiever. He’s certainly more serious than any teenage boy has a right to be.

“Kurt is a former member of New Directions. I believe his presence at Sectionals would be enough to throw them off, thereby giving us the edge we need to win.”

A roomful of faces stare at Kurt curiously. Wes presses his lips together and exhales through his nose, blinking slowly as he looks to his fellow council members in turn, a small exchange of nods as they silently come to a verdict.

“Let us welcome the newest addition to the Warblers, Kurt Hummel.” The room breaks into polite applause, and Kurt feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Wes raps his gavel, prompting silence as he continues;

“Kurt, you are expected, as with all your pursuits at Dalton, to perform to the best of your ability. You represent the honour and integrity of this school, first and foremost. It goes without saying I hope, that you will not betray your former teammates trust. The Warblers intend to win with talent and dedication-” Blaine clears his throat and the corner of Wes’ mouth twitches slightly, “-and the element of surprise. We will not resort to underhanded tactics, and we will not cheat.”

“Thank you.” Kurt says solemnly. “I won’t let you down.”

“Good. Now, I suggest we practice harmonies today so that Kurt may have as much time as possible to catch up. Warbler Blaine, as you prompted his membership, he is your responsibility.”

Blaine has an uncanny knack of finding Kurt between classes, the few they share together taking place almost exclusively in the afternoons. Kurt almost wants to ask exactly what Blaine hopes to achieve, but he suspects he already knows the answer.

“Hey. How you holding up?” Kurt jumps as Blaine throws an arm over his shoulders, sighing with relief as he recognises his roommate. It’s still hard not to overreact to unexpected contact, but if Blaine notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“The work is harder but the kids are kinder.” Kurt says, resisting the urge to melt completely into the warmth of Blaine’s side. They’re not quite friends yet, but Kurt can’t deny how much he wants to be. He feels safe around Blaine, a welcome relief after weeks of fear and uncertainty.

“I take it you had some trouble at your old school.” Blaine says quietly, his arm tightening just slightly around Kurt’s shoulders, the movement so slight that Kurt wonders if he’s aware he’s doing it at all.

“Yeah, I- I got bullied pretty badly. It was the reason I had to transfer.” It’s an understatement, but Kurt isn’t willing to elaborate just yet, even as Blaine’s warm arm slips away and he turns to stand in front of Kurt, halting their movement down the hallway.

“I know we’re still getting to know each other, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll always be here to listen okay?” Blaine gives Kurt a warm smile and unexpectedly pulls him into a crushing hug. “I know what it feels like.” He murmurs against Kurt’s shoulder, pulling away just as suddenly as he’d moved forward. “Now come on, we don’t want to be late for class.”

They’re just about to enter their English class when the senior lacrosse team comes squelching past, sodden from practice and whooping their way down the hall, leaving a muddy trail in their wake. For the first time that week, Kurt doesn’t find himself flinching at the sight of their letterman jackets, raising his hand for the proffered high-fives as they pass.

“Look at that, you’re starting to fit in new kid.” Blaine teases, bumping their shoulders together as they make their way into the English classroom.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

Kurt wakes to the buzzing of his cellphone as he receives a text. It’s still dark outside, probably the early hours of the morning, and moonlight is pouring through a thin gap in the curtains, illuminating the room in a pale glow.

He gropes for the phone on his nightstand and muffles his cry of triumph when his hand finally closes around the cool metal.

u find a bf @ gay hogwarts yet?

Kurt never did quite understand Puck’s motivations, though he would like to know how the hell he got his number, let alone used it to enquire on the state of his love life, in the middle of the night no less. He figures his reply can wait till morning.

He’s just replacing his phone on the nightstand when he hears Blaine groan and roll over, bed clothes rustling as he settles into sleep once more.

That’s when Kurt makes the mistake of looking over at him.

Blaine is sprawled on his back, one arm thrown above his head and the duvet pushed down around his waist. But what Kurt immediately notices is how his pajama shirt has ridden up, exposing a triangle of flesh from his bellybutton to where the material has bunched beneath his armpit. Kurt tries not to notice the dark smudge of his nipple, or the slightly deeper shadows against his skin that suggest a dusting of dark hair. It isn’t Kurt’s business to be looking, even if Blaine is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

It’s only when Blaine shifts in his sleep again that Kurt notices the scar. It’s small, nearly invisible except for the contrast of the paler scar tissue against Blaine’s tanned skin. It doesn’t look like the thin pink scars Kurt himself has, suggesting its cause was something a little more serious than the usual adolescent cuts and scrapes

Kurt’s still curious in the morning, but he can’t think of an excuse to ask about it without sounding like some sort of leering pervert, so he lets himself forget. It is after all, just a scar.

“You know, I hadn’t expected you’d catch up so fast.” Blaine says on Friday night as they walk up from the dining hall together. Usually Kurt would go home for the weekend, but tradition states the Warblers must travel to all competitions together, so he’d called his dad to explain, and swore him to secrecy.

“Last year’s Sectionals I had to learn an entire setlist plus choreography in fifteen minutes. A week is practically a luxury.” Blaine makes a slightly choked noise in his throat, turning pale.

“Fif-fifteen minutes?” He asks, the thought of such short preparation time clearly a horrifying prospect to him. Kurt laughs.

“Our original setlist got stolen by our competition. Not that it mattered, we still won.”

“Suddenly I feel a whole lot less confident.” Blaine mutters as Kurt unlocks the door to their room.

“Hey, you still have your secret weapon.” Kurt reminds him.

“You. You’re our secret weapon. Our strategy for winning is taking one of their former members and making him imitate a banjo.’ Blaine flops face down on his bed and groans, ignoring Kurt as he removes his blazer and hangs it over his desk chair.

“Stop worrying. We’re going to be awesome. My banjo will blow their minds.” It probably won’t, but Blaine doesn’t need to know that.

“You know it’s important though right?” Blaine mumbles, turning his head to face Kurt, who’s now perched on his own bed untying his shoes. “Every voice in the Warblers counts, not just the soloist.”

“You can’t play a symphony with only the first violin.” Kurt quotes back what Blaine told him on Tuesday as he practiced harmonizing with the rest of the Warblers.

“Only orchestras don’t have banjos.” Blaine groans again. Kurt has been prepared for this too. Wes and David informed him at dinner that Blaine would probably spend the next few hours dividing his time between obnoxious pep-talks and bemoaning their ‘inevitable loss’ much to the annoyance of everyone around him. Kurt had been assured this behavior would not last till morning.

Wes, it turns out, is rather too serious, but he does put it to good use, and Kurt is grateful for the heads up.

“Listen to me, you are going to have those judges eating out of your hand. You’re amazing, and the Warblers are ready. We’re going to win Blaine, I can feel it.” Blaine raises his head slightly and watches Kurt collect his toiletries bag and pajamas.

“You really believe that don’t you?” Kurt just smiles as he leaves.

“Do you miss us?” Rachel asks when Kurt finds her at the concession stand, screaming at the harangued looking staff member behind it about Raisinets. He’s almost offended that Lauren Zizes is the best replacement they could find but that’s neither here nor there, especially when Rachel emphatically states she’s nothing more than a ‘warm body’.

“I do. Being at Dalton is great, but I don’t think they appreciate my individuality as much as you guys did. And I can’t help but think I let you guys down.” It’s true, though he hates to admit it, especially when Dalton is so wonderful and he feels so completely accepted without question, for what really is the first time in his teenage life.

“It’s your life Kurt, and you weren’t safe at McKinley anymore, and we all get it.” Rachel’s voice is soft with something that sounds like compassion but realistically couldn’t be because he isn’t entirely sure Rachel actually knows how to feel emotions that aren’t completely self-centered.

“And may I say how kind it is of you to come and cheer us on? It must be so hard for you to maintain team loyalty when the Warblers are so talented. No doubt they’ve tried to recruit you already.” Kurt inwardly sighs with relief at the reappearance of the Rachel he knows and somewhat begrudgingly loves.

“Oh, yeah. Um, they even gave me a free ticket in their section. I guess they really want a countertenor.” Kurt shrugs and tries to look nonchalant. He thinks maybe Rachel would forgive him if he were honest and told her the truth, that she would understand more than anyone how much he craves acceptance. He wonders how mad she’ll be instead when she discovers his betrayal.

“I admire you for staying true to New Directions. When we win, I want you to know it’ll be a win for you too.” Her voice cracks on the last word and she springs forward suddenly to smother him in a warm embrace.

“Hey Kurt, you coming to sit?” Kurt has never felt so grateful to hear Blaine’s voice as he extracts himself from Rachel, patting her arm gently as she sniffs and wipes her face with a napkin.

“Good luck in there.” Blaine says to her, warm and sincere, and Rachel smiles back, her cheeks flushing with colour before she hurries away to find the rest of New Directions.

Kurt watches her retreat and enjoys what is probably the last moment she’ll consider him a friend.

Backstage is a frenzy of activity. The Warblers are arranging themselves in order, Kurt at the very front on one side where he can’t be missed.

“Don’t worry, you’re ready.” Wes whispers from the step above him and Kurt is surprised to feels his nerves dissipate ever so slightly.

“And now, for our second act of the program, from Dalton Academy in Westerville, The Warblers!”

The curtain rises.

For the first few seconds, Kurt focuses on keeping his banjo in harmony, and when they finally turn dramatically to face the audience, he holds off looking for the New Directions as long as he possibly can.

He lasts until ‘I don’t want to miss a single thing...’ before Rachel catches his eye. Her expression looks a little confused and a lot hurt and for a moment he falters before picking back up again and smiling wide, casting his gaze over the rest of his former team mates.

They don’t look nearly as upset as Rachel, Mike is even visibly dancing in his seat. Mr Shue’s expression is really the most amusing, a sort of constipated look as he slips halfway down in his seat, apparently having underestimated his competition.

The song ends and Kurt feels his heart surge with affection as the entirety of New Directions, excluding Rachel, leap to their feet, smiling and cheering. Even Artie gives an enthusiastic fist-pump from his place in the aisle.

His buoyant mood lasts until he’s was back in his seat and Quinn and Sam are wooing the crowd with their saccharine vocals and Barbie and Ken appeal. He hears Blaine audibly groan as the song finally ends and Santana launches into an incredible rendition of Valerie, accompanied by Brittany and Mike’s athletic dancing. The Warblers have no hope of winning, not when New Directions are so good.

So he’s was naturally pleasantly surprised when they tie and he’s was suddenly faced with the very real chance of Nationals and New York, and Rachel’s wounded expression be damned.

Except it isn’t not Kurt she keeps trying to make eye contact with.

It’s Blaine.

“Blaine Anderson!” Rachel’s cry precedes her entrance into the lobby where everyone is making polite conversation while they wait for the buses to take them home again.

Blaine casts a quick worried look at Kurt and holds up his hand in surrender as Rachel stalks towards him, her hair a mess where she’s obviously pulled her hands through it in distress or frustration or both.

What Kurt can’t figure is how Rachel and Blaine know each other at all.

“You knew! You knew Kurt was my only real competition and you used him against me!” Rachel’s words become incoherent through her tears and she stumbles forward, burying her face in the folds of Blaine’s blazer.

Kurt is just about to ask what exactly is going on when a startling cry of “Hey!” echoes from across the room and he turns to see Finn heading towards them, Mike and Puck in tow.

“You the prep school kid who stole my girlfriend?” He demands, and Kurt has to give Blaine credit, he doesn’t even flinch, despite having to crane his neck back to look Finn in the eye as he looms over him.

“I believe the term is ex-girlfriend.”

“The hell man, you’re friends with this guy?” Finn seems to suddenly notice Kurt and rounds on him.

“Roommates.” Kurt corrects him. “And I can assure you, until a few minutes ago I wasn’t aware Blaine had a girlfriend at all, much less that his girlfriend was Rachel.” He tries to ignore how bitter the words taste in his mouth. Out the corner of his eye, Blaine frowns.

“Are you two friends?” He asks and Kurt sighs.

“Blaine, meet Finn, my step brother and your girlfriends ex-boyfriend.” Blaine’s eyebrows rise.

“Wow. Small world.” Rachel gives a small hiccup of laughter from her place still tucked against his shoulder, and finally extracts herself from the now significantly soggier blue material.

“Finn, I know you’re upset, but you have no right to take it out on Kurt, or Blaine. Our relationship ending was my fault, and if you should be angry at anyone, it should be me.” She says sniffing, obviously still on the verge of tears. “You, on the other hand-” She turns to face Blaine, “You have some explaining to do. And you.” She points an accusatory finger at Kurt.

“What’s wrong with Kurt joining the Warblers?” Finn asks, obviously forgetting his annoyance.

“What’s wrong with-? Kurt betrayed us! He was an original member of New Directions and the minute he was at Dalton he just up and joined the Warblers! How long do you think it took him to spill everything he knew about us? They had an unfair advantage!” Kurt wonders if anyone would stop him from slapping her.

“Actually-” A stern voice cuts in and Kurt turns to see Wes and the rest of the Warblers looking disapproving. “Kurt didn’t speak a word about you or your glee club. Considering your claim that the two of you are friends, I’d have thought you’d trust him more than that.”

“Don’t worry Wes, I’m not taking it too personally. Rachel’s a little intense when it comes to glee club.” Kurt assures him, turning back to give Rachel a fierce glare.

“Yeah, Kurt wouldn’t betray us.” Finn says seriously, Mike and Puck nodding along, looking at Rachel as if she’s obviously mistaken. The rest of New Directions seem to have noticed the commotion and are starting to drift towards them, making Kurt feel ever so slightly uneasy at the bodies pressing in on all sides.

“Kurt’s our boy, it’s awesome the garglers let him in.” Puck punches Kurt’s shoulder in the fashion he’s learnt is meant to indicate male affection.

“The Warblers Puck, but thank you for defending me.” Rachel splutters her displeasure.

“Blaine, say something. You’re supposed to back me up!” She implores, tugging on the sleeve of his blazer. Blaine looks uncomfortable.

“Rachel, Kurt is the most moral, compassionate person I’ve ever met. I don’t think he has it in him to hurt his friends like that, and I promise you, he didn’t tell us anything.” There’s a long beat of silence and Rachel finally purses her lips and nods quickly.

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” She says quickly and excuses herself to the bathroom. There’s a ripple of awkward laughter as she disappears, the tension still thick in the air.

“So-” Kurt says conversationally, “You’re dating Rachel?” He notices Finn’s ears prick as his attention is drawn back to Blaine.

“Yeah, she came to spy on the Warblers a few weeks ago and we went for coffee afterwards.” He says somewhat nervously, looking up at Finn like a mouse facing off against a lion. “I’m really sorry that you got hurt by all this, I didn’t know she already had a boyfriend.” Finn looks crestfallen, and Kurt feels for him, knowing Rachel’s actions must sting.

“Well, now it’s out in the open, we can all move on with our lives. Right Finn?” Kurt pats his stepbrothers arm, giving a grunt as Finn suddenly hugs him, squeezing just slightly too tight.

“Sorry I got mad at you. I promise I don’t mind if you guys are friends.” He says, and Kurt smiles, touched by the unexpected kindness.

They talk a little longer, loitering until the buses arrive and they’re forced to say their goodbyes. Kurt accepts a round of hugs from his friends, promising to visit soon, and assuring Rachel all is forgiven.

He tries not to watch too closely as she and Blaine exchange their goodbyes, sharing a long kiss, her arms tight around his neck. Even with the knowledge Blaine is straight, it’s unexpectedly painful knowing he lost out to Rachel again. He’s starting to wonder if this is how his love life is going to be from now on, constantly beaten by Rachel Berry.

He’s still pondering this as Blaine and Rachel finally extract themselves from each other and Blaine joins him in line for the bus.

“Hey, this isn’t going to make things weird between us is it?” He asks and Kurt shakes his head.

“No, I mean, I do have to wonder about your questionable taste in women, but I think our friendship will survive this blow.” He says very seriously, allowing a tiny smile to end the sentence.

“Oh, good. Good.” Blaine replies, grabbing his hand to pull him into a spare seat, his grasp lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. It’s almost certainly not something he should read into, but Kurt feels his pulse start to race all the same.

This is going to be a problem.