A/N: Just to keep you in check with the setting (in case you're confused), it's nearly December at the beginning of this chapter, and cheer Nationals/Glee Regionals is in March. Glee Nationals (if they make it, of course...) will be in June.

Also, I am so so so so oso osososooSO sorry for the delay...I had a major bout of writer's block, and soccer/summer work for school has been stressing me out.

So without any further ado, enjoy!

Kurt groaned.Of course. Of-fucking-course."What do you mean by that? Are they on the same day?"

Blaine shook his head emphatically, much to Kurt's relief. "No, but close: it's the day after. February is going to be absolute hell."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Kurt queried as he got up, keeping his towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He turned to retrieve his bedraggled uniform and stuffed it in his bag after getting his clean sweatpants and sweatshirt out. A rustling from the other side of the room notified him that Blaine was doing the same. He began to change while Blaine spoke.

"I guess we're just going to have to tell Mr. Schue that the Cheerios come first, and-"

"Hold up; are you saying that we're going toquitGlee?" Kurt paused at Blaine's words in shock.

"Well, we made the commitment to the Cheerios first, and if it turns out that all of the practices are too much...it's a lot to memorize and rehearse; I wouldn't be surprised if the other Cheerios in Glee quit, since that's probably the most detriment we can inflict upon the club at this point. Quinn will probably be the first to go, since she has nothing left in the club with her whole thing with Finn—or lack of a thing."

"I'm not going to leave Glee. I don't care what it takes."

"Kurt...I've not only got these two extracurriculars, as well as a few others to deal with; I have school and college visits and the SATs coming up. I'm under an overwhelming amount of pressure right now, and—and I'm not sure if I'm going to make it through..."

"Oh, Blaine—talk to me. What's going on?" He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and walked over in the direction of disturbance in the labyrinth of lockers. Blaine was sitting on a bench close to the door, his arms crossed against his chest—they were wearing the exact same outfits, which Kurt would've found funny in different circumstances. Kurt could see that Blaine was on the brink of losing it again, just like that day in the park. His knee was bouncing rapidly as he stared at the ground; Kurt watched as his chest rose and fell.

"It's just...everything is going so fast, you know? At this time next year, I'm going to be sending in my applications; I don't even know what I really want to do or where I want to go."

Kurt took a seat next to him, unsure of what to do or say. "Youdohave another year...and you can go as undecided, right?"

Blaine snorted. "Every freaking time I mention that I'm a junior to someone, everyone immediately asks, 'oh, you're thinking about college, right? What major? What school are you leaning to?' I need to knownow. And my PSAT scores were barely good enough for scholarships, so now I've got to kick ass on the SATs. I just don't really know where I want to go. I don't. Schools may want me for cheerleading, but I can't do that for the rest of my life, and I don't want to, but what else can I do? It's not like I'm that talented in other areas..."

Not talented in other areas?Kurt thought in disbelief. "You're a great singer, Blaine. Actually, you're exceptional, beyond exceptional. You play the piano as well, I know from that cover of Teenage Dream, and you have that piano in your house, I saw it the first time I came over."

"I took lessons for years; it was more of a disciplinary thing, but it grew into a hobby, unbeknownst to my parents. That's the one thing that comes to mind when I envision myself in the future: music. My parents would probably kill me for going into such an unstable field, although..." he trailed off, his expression dropping.

"What?" Kurt queried, but Blaine shook his head.

"Never mind. I guess music is my best shot, then. Do you really think that I'm exceptional?" Blaine asked as he looked at Kurt, a complacent glint in his gaze.

"Seriously, I'm sure you can go very far with your talent. Iknowyou can. Not as far as me, though—I'm going to be a Tony-Award winning performer on Broadway in a few years," Kurt mock-flipped invisible strands of hair from his shoulders, and Blaine laughed.

"Not before I have some hit singles out!" He protested as he lightly smacked Kurt's arm. The locker room soon grew quiet as their collective laughter subsided; it was a while until Blaine spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I also hate thinking about college because—becauseyouwon't be there." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Recently it's been hard envisioning, I don't know, life...without you. Hence why I don't do it that much."

Kurt's heart stuttered as he turned to stare at Blaine. He recalled that stomach-churning revelation he had during Thanksgiving:I'm falling in love with Blaine.

Was it reallylovethat he was feeling? Was itlovethat he felt for Blaine when he'd simply catch a quick glimpse of him in the hallway, was itlovestirring in his insides in that moment, was itlovepreventing his lungs from ballooning with air as he walked away, leaving him breathless?

Love. What a simple-looking word, a string of just four letters, alternating consonants and vowels that contain the power to simultaneously manifest and destroy life. It appears to be an intangible, unattainable idea, a false hope to so many—yet how could love not exist when it has been believed in for thousands of years? So many stories, myths, legends from all over this tiny Earth have been passed down from the word: love,amor,Liebe,szerelem,upendo...it must be real! If there was a war over a woman, a woman stolen from her husband that thousands of men died for, lovemustbe real!

Yet Kurt's love for Blaine—not love, no, he couldn't quite label it yet; he couldn't be sure so early in their relationship—could never be so morbid, so utterly savage. All he knew that whatever the hell he felt for Blaine, the strangetha-thumpof his heart screaming against his chest was so new, pure, and absolutely exquisite. Andscary—God, he'd never been so scared in his life, aside from when he was pacing in his room a few months ago, trying to figure out how to come out to his dad. He had no real preparation for this. How could he predict his sheer loathing for Blaine to metamorphose into—into—

Everything he felt for Blaine was just...uncharted.

"Earth to Kurt," Blaine sang, and Kurt shook his thoughts away. "I think it's time to go; my English teacher assigned this nasty paper that I've got to tackle..."

Recently it's been hard envisioning, I don't know, life...without you.Blaine will be physically gone in two years, but the one thing Kurt was sure of was that he'll forever be imprinted in his mind, his heart, hisskin...

When Kurt got into the house, he was startled by a peal of laughter—a female peal of laughter coming from the couch, where he could only see the back of Finn's head. That laugh was very, very familiar...

"When do you think Kurt's getting back? I need to get his opinion on what I should wear to New Year's,"Oh my God. Rachel and Finn are together on the couch—now they are very audiblymaking outon the couch—

"New Year's isn't for, like, a month. I'm sure you'll look fine." Finn reassured her as they fell back out of sight.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Finn," Kurt interrupted loudly while he walked past them into the kitchen; he heard a loudthump!as someone—presumably Rachel, as she was on top of Finn—fell on the floor.

"Oh, um, hi, Kurt, um," Finn stuttered; Kurt looked at him from the doorway with an apple in his hand, watching Rachel get up from the floor. She gave him a shy smile: Kurt grinned back and took a bite out of his fruit.

"'Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know!'" He quoted, and Rachel's lips quickly curled into a scowl. Finn didn't seem to recognize the reference.

"Kurt, we're doing homework, go away," She replied as she fixed her skirt.

"You don't seem to be focused on your homework," he gestured towards the sheets of paper spread out on the table before them, blatantly left untouched. Rachel turned bright red as she sat down next to Finn.

Finn, on the other hand, groaned. "C'mon, Kurt, leave us alone. Anyway, you're home really late from practice; I'm sure you andBlainewere pretty occupied with each other-"

It was Kurt's turn to blush. "I'll be in my room; don't do anything stupid."

"I'm sure you'll be texting Blaine about how much you miss him after not seeing him for five-"

"Shut up, Rachel!"

(6:47)Oh, how I hate Rachel Berry.

(6:49)?

(6:51)She is currently on my couch right now, probably swapping spit with Finn.

(6:53)Are you *jealous* of her? I'm insulted.

(6:54)Shut up. You know I'm not.

(6:56)I wish you were here so you could physically prove that ;)

(6:58)Blaine!

(7:00)Oh wait, you already did that today :) anyway, returning to our conversation from before...we'll have to work out a schedule with Mr. Schue and Coach if we want to stay in both. We've still got plenty of time until March, but it's never too early to start thinking about it.

(7:02)So we're staying?

(7:03)Of course. Anyway, I'm sure Rachel would murder us in our sleep if we quit.

(7:05)No, that's only if we were to get a solo over her.

(7:06)You wanna Skype? I need to see your beautiful face right now.

(7:07)...okay :)

"There's something about winter that makes me want to have hot chocolate," Blaine said as he walked with Kurt to their usual table at the Lima Bean. They decided to have an impromptu coffee date, as school had been canceled that day from an early snow storm. Kurt woke up to see a few inches of a fluffy white blanket on the ground.

"Technically it's not winter yet, Blaine." Kurt corrected him.

"Please. It's, like, twenty-five degrees outside, there's snow out there, and we're not at school. The whole month of December is synonymous with winter."

"I really can't believe we're already a week into December," Kurt changed the subject as they sat down. He waved to Tina and Mike, who were sitting at a table nearby. "It feels like school started just a few days ago."

"You know what's coming up, then," Blaine said surreptitiously, and Kurt grinned.

"Of course I do. Our two-month anniversary. God, Homecoming seems like yesterday."

"Mmm," Blaine took a swig of his hot chocolate. "Remember when we had time to do things back then? Like, time tobreathe?"

"Now it seems like I'm either singing or dancing all the time—I'm definitely going to lose my voice after Regionals for a month."

"My muscles are probably going to give out. You can pick up my corpse from the stage."

"'Here Lies Blaine Anderson: Died Of Cheerleading And Show Choir.' I'll be sure to leave a box of Cheerios on your grave every month."

Blaine nearly spat out his drink. "Oh my God,Kurt. Anyway, do you know what Rachel and Finn are up to? I imagine Rachel is freaking out over her solo." Mr. Schue had just assigned her a new song at their last Glee rehearsal.

"Quite the contrary. She won't shut up about it! I almost poured hydrochloric acid down her throat during science when she kept singing this one part over and over andoveragain, asking me how it sounded. Only Finn can shut her up with his mouth, basically. My dad issomuch more lenient with them; they're allowed to go in his room with the door closed, while we practically have to be right in front of him at all times."

"He's just overprotective of you. Anyway, Finn isn't really his son...well, not yet."

"Dad seems fine with saying 'son, can you turn up the volume?' when they're watching football together."

"Whatever. Changing the subject...how's the wedding planning going?"

"It's going well. It's going to be small, nothing too fancy...I'm going to ask the Glee club if they want to provide some entertainment; I know that it's close to Sectionals but we know enough sappy love songs to plow through it. Have you gotten your tux yet?"

"Kurt, it's in February! I have plenty of time. I'm sure you've got your entire ensemble planned out, though."

"Of course; what kind of man do you take me for?!" Kurt laughed and glanced down at his coffee, taking a long sip from it. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, and he blushed. Sometimes the way Blaine looked at him...

"Hey, I've got an idea," Blaine sprang from his seat and grabbed Kurt's hand, barely giving him enough time to secure his drink in his other one. He then dragged Kurt out of the coffee shop, out into the cold parking lot where it was snowing lightly. Kurt watched as his boyfriend let go of his hand to prance around the pavement, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue as they walked to his car.

"Are you sure that you're sixteen?" Kurt asked warily, "you look like you've lost about ten years of age right now."

"Andyoulook like you've lost your ability to have fun right now. And excuse me, I'll be seventeen in just two months!"

"Yes. I'll be getting you some matchbox cars for your birthday."

"I think I need to go over there and warm up that cool mouth of yours." Blaine waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Kurt stuck out his tongue. "Ah! Yes, do it, catch a snowflake!" He clapped his hands and did a silly little dance.

"Oh my God, I really should be driving. I swear, you are six years old." Kurt rolled his eyes as he got into the passenger seat. "It's like I'm your baby sitter."

Blaine grinned at him as he got into the car and turned it on; Kurt muttered "asshole" under his breath. The beginning chords of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" immediately rang from the speakers, and Kurt couldn't resist but sing along. Blaine followed, their harmonies overpowering that of the radio. After practicing "Four Minutes" so much, Kurt and Blaine learned just how well their voices melded; how they fit together like puzzle pieces. It was a shame that Mr. Schue didn't recognize their collective talent and just gave Rachel solos.

Blaine parked the car, and Kurt realized they were at the same soccer field they'd gone to after their first coffee date at the Lima Bean—their first dateever. It had been surrounded by trees bursting with scarlet and gold foliage, and covered with emerald green grass under a bright cerulean sky. In contrast, the trees were bare, their branches like black veins and capillaries against the peculiar somber sky, snow falling from the clouds down to the bright expanse of untouched white, waiting for something to penetrate it.

A figure flew past him and sprinted into the snow, leaving a fresh track of foot prints behind him. Kurt watched as Blaine completed a series of cartwheels, round-offs, and handsprings across the field. He held up his hands in defeat a few minutes later, his chest heaving as he shouted "they're numb; can you come over and warm them for me?" to Kurt.

"I'm not wearing the proper footwear, though," Kurt looked down at his black lace-up boots: technically they'd be fine in the snow, but he could not bear the possibility of ruining them. Anyway, he knew that if he trudged into the white mass, snow would somehow find its way through his clothes and onto his bare skin, licking his flesh like icy flames.

He felt something cold and wet hit his chest, spraying particles across his jacket and up his face. Someone laughed nearby as he yelped in surprise; he looked up to see Blaine just a few feet in front of him, another snowball in his hands and a coy smile playing on his face.

"You—you—ugh!" Words failed Kurt as he bent down and scooped some white fluff into his hands and chucked it in Blaine's direction. The snowball sailed over his head and disintegrated before it even hit the ground. "Hence why I don't play any sports that involve thro—hey!Stop!" He admonished as Blaine pelted him with another icy blast. "That's it!" He left the car's side and marched onto the field, sprinting straight towards Blaine. He spread his arms out as if he was going to hug him: Blaine reciprocated the gesture, but let out a small"umph!"in surprise as Kurt collided with him, sending them both into the snow. Straddling a wriggling Blaine, Kurt extended his hand, grabbed a handful of snow, and stuffed it into his boyfriend's face.

"Oh my God, Ihateyou," Blaine laughed as he shook his head, looking up at Kurt with furrowed eyebrows and playful honey eyes.

"Here, let me help you with that," Kurt said as he bent down to cup Blaine's frigid cheeks, brushing the snow away while he kissed his frosty lips. Blaine made a happy sound in the back of his throat, his hands clutching at the front of Kurt's letterman Cheerio jacket. They stayed like that until Kurt felt that Blaine was properly warmed up again and broke away, his thumb sweeping the rest of the snow away from under his eyes. "Better?" he breathed.

"Mmm, I don't know; I still can't feel my lips," Blaine replied, and Kurt sighed. Their lips met again, and again, and again...

"Okay, okay, my butt is getting numb; I didn't drive us here just so we could make out in the snow," Blaine said a while later, his visible breath beating down on Kurt's nose.

"'Justso we could make out?'" Kurt queried, pulling away from Blaine so he could get up and dust the white from his legs and jacket. Blaine followed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, help me out here," He bent down to make a little ball of snow, and then began rolling it around, causing it to accumulate even more and more until it was a large mass of fluff—

"We came here to make asnowman?!" Kurt asked incredulously as he started making the next ball.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not really, it's just...it's got to be like eight years since I made one."

"You know...sometimes you've just got to take a break from the real world and be a kid again."

(8:12)That picture on Facebook is unbearably adorable.

(8:14)The bowtie was Blaine's idea. Actually, the whole thing was Blaine's idea. He was acting very childish yesterday.

(8:16) Do you guys know what you're doing for Christmas yet? Finn and I are going ice skating, if you wanted to come along.

(8:20)You don't celebrate Christmas? And we're already going out to dinner; it's going to be a half-Christmas-half-anniversary celebration.

(8:22)Cute! Do you know where?

(8:23)Nope—Blaine's adamant in keeping it a secret.

(8:25) ...he's so good to you, Kurt. Are you two okay after what happened today?

(8:30)I think so. My back still hurts a bit from where it hit the lockers; Blaine was kind of quiet for the rest of the day. I would be texting him right now, but he said he has a lot of homework...he may not want to talk, and that's okay. He's had bad experiences with this before. I just don't understand why we can't walk down holding hands without being bothered. It's not like we were subjecting anyone to anything graphic, like how half of the population of this high school likes to shove their tongues down each other's throats in the hallways.

(8:33) Karofsky and his friends are probably just jealous of the love you two share; don't get too hung up on it—unless it gets really bad, of course. We don't need our star performers to get injured or anything before Sectionals!

(8:35)Or cheer nationals...maybe Coach can do something to stop it...ugh, that'll just make us look weak and she'll call us wimps, etc, so I don't want to bother her with it...

(8:37) I've seen her supply football players with slushies before—that woman is evil.

(8:40)Tell me about it. Well, I've got to go—I'm almost done with the lab, I can taste it!

(8:42)Actually, I was wondering if you could help me :)

(8:45)As I told Blaine the other day, I hate you, Rachel Berry.

(8:46)!

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter; I swear the next one will be longer...