"I didn't know you werethisgood at Algebra," Kurt commented as Blaine guided him to the answer of yet another one of his math problems. They were huddled in the corner of the noisy, football player-filled locker room, trying to get a head start on their homework before Cheerios practice. Kurt was lucky that Blaine was so adept at math, and Blaine was lucky that Kurt was decent at history.

"There are still some things you don't know about me, Hummel," Blaine replied playfully, and chewed on the end of his pen as he looked down at a bunch of documents spread in front of him from his APUSH class. "What's the Cuban Embargo again? I think I dozed off in class today. Actually, I did, eugh, I guess I drool while I sleep," he pointed to a wet spot on one of the sheets of paper; Kurt stuck out his tongue.

"Again? That's the third time within the past two weeks. When do you go to sleep? You need to go to bed earlier."

"Late," Blaine muttered, placing the papers in his folder and putting his schoolwork in his bag. "We've got to go now, and we have to hurry too or else Coach is going to get mad."

It was Tuesday, nearly three weeks since Blaine's breakdown, which meant nearly three weeks since he came out to his parents. Evidently, they hadn't taken it so well, since they were still not exactly on speaking terms with him. Blaine said he didn't care, but Kurt could tell it hurt him on the inside. For the most part, though, Blaine felt a lot better-Kurt could even see it in the way he moved and talked. It was as if an invisible burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and that he could finally walk normally.

Kurt supported Blaine the whole time, texting him every so often to check in and saying hello in the hallways occasionally. They started the routine of doing homework together a week ago, and it turned out that Blaine was a very good student who cared about school, something that was surprising to Kurt: he thought Blaine was too busy being an intolerable asshole to put any effort in. They helped one another as best as they could (Kurt felt bad since he wasn't as resourceful, considering that he was two years younger), and learned more about each other in the process. Their friendship (or whatever it was called) just sort of...bloomed. They still hadn't admitted their friendships, but things had changed. Blaine had his moments, however for the most part, he finally started to dismantle his facade completely. Kurt caught him smiling more often, a kind light flickering in his eyes, a wonderful music to the way he laughed, which was still rare. It wasn't that it was a different Blaine, he had simply transformed into a much happier man right before Kurt's very eyes within a matter of weeks.

The days following Blaine's reveal to his parents were hard: the multitude of depressing texts he sent Kurt was alarming, though not too bad in comparison to their talk in the park. He was disappointed that his parents were upset with what they called his "choice", but with Kurt's reassurance, he admitted that he felt a lot better than before. Blaine still didn't have any plans to tell the rest of their friends or the school, and Kurt respected his wishes. Blaine needed to go at his own pace, and so far he was doing fine.

"Are you going to homecoming on Saturday?" Kurt wasn't sure where the question came from; he just felt the need to make small talk. They finally made it outside and were speed-walking towards the football field. He was going, just because Rachel begged him to and bribed him with cupcakes. It was all that everyone was talking about, anyway, and he heard Noah Puckerman contemplate spiking the punch while he was changing near them in the locker room earlier.

"I don't...do dances," Blaine mumbled, and Kurt then realized why it was a stupid question.

"Oh, I take that back, that was so dumb, I'm sorry. Wait, no," Kurt shook his head, "youshouldgo. You're only letting them win if you keep skipping out on these events. This year is your junior prom, too, and then prom, and that's it. You can't let them dominate your life, Blaine. And I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun," Kurt added, desperately searching for another reason why Blaine should go.

Blain sighed. "Kurt...fine. Maybe. I just-"

"HEY! Anderson, Porcelina! Get your rainbow asses over here!" Coach shouted from her megaphone on the other side of the field, where the Cheerios had congregated on the bleachers. The two of them began to sprint, hoping that they'd make it out of practice alive.

After practice, Blaine took Kurt home, as he'd started doing shortly after they made up. Burt was very grateful to Blaine for this arrangement: he seemed to have taken quite a liking to the boy. Kurt had hooked up Blaine's iPod to the stereo and listened to his music, which he was elated to find they had similar tastes. That afternoon, he was scrolling through Blaine's playlists when he found that they were listening to "Kurt's Playlist." His cheeks burned a little in embarrassment and—appreciation? but he decided not to say anything.

"Kurt," Blaine said after he stopped singing under his breath while he braked at a red stop light, "are we friends?"

It was a simple question, yet it still had not been established. Kurt realized that they never really defined their relationship. It stung a little to think that they hadn't ever referred to each other as a "friend."

"Yeah, I guess we are," he said contently, and leaned back on his chair, feeling something finally settle in his heart that he didn't even realize was there.

"Best friends?" He asked softly, startling Kurt.

"That's quite a jump there," he laughed nervously. Just a few weeks prior he hated that boy's guts, but now...

"I can't really say I have a best friend," Blaine replied flatly as he turned onto Kurt's street. A brief, awkward silence followed as this statement struck him as true. It didn't seem like Blaine had any true friends, aside from Sam, who Kurt didn't know, but saw the two of them hang out from time to time. Then again, Sam didn't know Blaine's secret.

"If that's so, I would be honored to be your best friend, Blaine," he finally replied, and watched the corners of Blaine's lips turn up into a smile. Kurt wasn't sure if he considered Blaine one of his best friends, but as long as it made Blaine happy, he was satisfied.

"Good, good. You're doing a lot better," Blaine commented as Kurt finished up the Nationals routine. They were still going through with the Wednesday practices, since Coach Sue had yet to be satisfied with Kurt's performance. Ever since they got on speaking terms, Kurt improved a tremendous amount. He'd worked very hard before to prove to Blaine that he didn't need him, but it was a lot easier when he had someone who knew what they were doing guiding him rather than his hazy, anger-driven mind. Blaine was a good teacher, telling Kurt exactly what he was doing wrong and what he could do to fix it, but he never touched Kurt, ever. Kurt realized that they hadn't had any physical contact since that day in the park. He understood why, but it was a little unsettling. He trusted Blaine now, since he hadn't shown any romantic interest him since their altercation. He seemed perfectly satisfied with them being friends-best friends.

"Blaine, do you mind if I go to the bathroom for a sec?"I shouldn't have had so much water.

"Sure, go ahead. You know what? Once you come back, we'll go home. It's almost time, and you've worked hard enough. Anyway, homecoming's this weekend, and I don't want to wear you-"

"Blaine." Kurt started backing away, letting him know that he had more pressing matters than listening to him drone on.

"Okay, okay, I actually want to get home quickly so I can finish this English paper..." He heard Blaine's voice fade behind him as he entered the boy's locker room.

As he was washing his hands, an idea dawned on him-it became so clear, so obvious to him. He wasn't sure where it came from, but he thought it was a damn good one.

Why don't I ask Blaine to homecoming?

He dried his hands and stayed by the sink for a bit to consider what the notion.

Of course we'd go just as friends, I mean, it's not like that...at least, he doesn't seem to be interested in me anymore, and that's good...I think...anyway, we'd just be friends as we've recently established, and he can combine coming out to the school and getting over his past in one shot. Done.

It's not as simple as that, a little voice said in the back of Kurt's mind, but he ignored it. Yesterday he said "maybe", which practically meant yes. He rushed out of the locker room and found Blaine cleaning up the mat. He walked over to help him put it away and sent him a smile. Blaine returned it; there was something about that smile...

"Blaine, can I ask you a question?" Kurt said, eerily echoing Blaine's words from the day before.

"Shoot," Blaine said as he picked up his bag. Kurt copied him, and they both started towards the door.

"Do you, um, would you like to go to homecoming...with me?" He queried, not exactly sure how he wanted to phrase it.

Blaine's mouth fell open. "Wow, Kurt, I just...oh my God," he said breathlessly, and Kurt's cheeks flushed, "I...no. I'm sorry, but I can't-the past is too raw-"

"That's precisely why you need to do it!" Kurt shouted, not sure where his anger was coming from. "You need to get over this and conquer your fear! What better way than to go with me on Saturday, as friends, of course, or best friends, whatever..."

"Jesus, Kurt, I didn't think you were that insensitive," Blaine said, his voice dripping with attitude. He had reverted back to being an asshole in just a matter of seconds—yet not exactly. There was so much hurt in his tone, and it momentarily pierced Kurt. The pain passed, and Kurt continued on.

"Well I'm sorry that it's been three years and you still can't get over it, or yourself," Kurt wasn't even sure of what he was saying. "It's just a stupid dance; nobody is going to care. It's not even like people like you anyway."

Blaine promptly braked at a stop sign, giving Kurt major backlash. "What do you mean, people don't like me?" He seemed concerned; Kurt didn't realize that Blaine could be self-conscious when he seemed so indifferent to everyone around him.

"Oh, I don't know, your head is too far up your ass to see!" Kurt replied acerbically. "The way that you've isolated yourself is by being a dick, so no one likes you. Basically everyone on the Cheerios hates you. You're lucky that I've seen how nice and great you can be, or else I'd be right there with them. If you go to homecoming, then maybe you'll be able to loosen up a bit."

"I go to parties and loosen up there!" Blaine shouted. "What more do you want from me?! I've made moves on guys at parties-"

"But you're trashed when you do so, and no one can really see you because they're focused on getting themselves wasted, and-"you would drunk-text me about how hot I was when you were there, but he didn't really mean that, he couldn't"-whatever. Why do you care what other people think?!"

"You're the one that fucking brought it up!" Blaine yelled. "I mean, I want to generally be liked, doesn't everyone? Still, when people liked me, I got the shit beaten out of me because I got too close to people that didn't really know who I was, so of course I've been avoiding this!"

"Have I beaten the shit out of you yet?"Even though I've wanted to countless times.

"You're different, Kurt." Paul McCartney's voice floated in the background as Blaine pulled into Kurt's driveway.

"Please, Blaine, you need to do this." Kurt begged. He had a tenacious grip on the idea and refused to let it go.

"I don't have to do anything. Now please, just-just get out of my car," Blaine said adamantly, and Kurt obliged, slamming the car door a little harder than he intended to. Angry tears distorted his vision as he walked to the house, not even turning back to watch Blaine drive away.

Burt was passed out on the couch when Kurt passed through the family room; he turned off the television and lightly tapped Burt on the shoulder, waking him up.

"Dad, I'm home," he said softly, struggling to keep his composure.

"I can see that," Burt commented, and let out a huge yawn. "I'm going straight to bed, all right? I had a long day. Oh, did Blaine leave already? We had a nice chat in the shop today."

"Bl-he was at the shop? Why?"

"He needed to get a tire replaced. He's such a nice boy. He had a lot of good things to say about you."

"You were talking about me?" Kurt said, his voice a little higher than usual. This was the boy he just said had his head stuck up his ass, and didn't even know he'd had a conversation with his father earlier.

"Yeah, he said that you two have grown really close, and that he's needed that recently. Problems at home, I guess. He told me that you've made him a better person, and that he's thankful you're his friend. Is he usually that sentimental?"

Kurt was unable to reply for a few minutes, for he was rendered speechless by this.

"N-no, not really," he stuttered, feeling something sink in his stomach.I was such a jerk to him just hours after he said this about me. Why couldn't I just leave him alone about homecoming?

Because you believe in him and know that he deserves better.

"Well, I'm off to bed. G'night, kid."

"'Night, dad,"

He went down to his room and quickly showered, exhaustion slowly creeping over his body. While he was shampooing his hair, he found that he was softly singing the song that had been playing when Blaine dropped him off. It was so familiar...

Oh. That's what I'll do.

It was as if their friendship never existed in the first place: Kurt and Blaine regressed from being best friends to total strangers. They did not speak or acknowledge each other's presence-it killed Kurt to walk past him and not even shoot him a glance. All of the words left unsaid cut him like little shards of glass embedded in his skin.

Rachel noticed by the time that gym class rolled around. They were walking around the track, surrounded by yellowing foliage that hinted at the coming fall.

"Hey, what's going on between you and Blaine?" She stepped in front of him and started walking backwards in the innermost lane of the track. Kurt shivered from a frigid gust of wind that confirmed the fact that fall had come.

"What makes you think something's come between us?" He walked a little faster so he was next to her and swiveled his head to make sure that no one, especially not Blaine, was near.

"For the past week I've seen you standing by his locker before science. Today you didn't even look at him."

"Are you stalking us?"

"Nooooo," she said, ducking her head. "What matters is, why aren't you two talking?"

"We kind of...got into a little disagreement last night. It's not really my story to tell." Considering that most of the details were borne from Blaine's past, Kurt did not want to divulge them to her. It was not fair to Blaine. Anyway, he wanted to make things right again. As much as he wished Blaine had listened to him, he missed his friend, and found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay mad at him. He didn't think it would cause this much pain. Kurt was also worried about Blaine; he'd just lost someone who knew more about him than anyone else, someone who'd been through so much with him in such a short amount of time.

Rachel noticed how detached Kurt was. "Are you going to try to make up with him? I'm guessing that based on the atrocious dark circles under your eyes, you spent a long time thinking about this," She asked, trying to rein him in.

He nodded. "I have a plan that I came up with last night," he said ambiguously, "you'll see. I don't know if it's going to work, but it's worth a shot."

"What do you mean, 'you'll see'; will I get to see it?" She inquired.

"Later," Kurt said quietly as Blaine passed by them. He was alone with his hands deep in his pockets. Even though he couldn't, Kurt wanted to go over and talk to him, or at least say "I'm sorry." But life could never be that simple.

"So everyone, I thought that maybe-"

"Mr. Schue, if I may," Kurt interrupted, and Mr. Schue nodded. He stepped away with a look of surprise on his face when Kurt climbed down from his seat to the middle of the room. He looked up at the rest of the members staring down at him, including a new member named Mike Chang.

"So, um, I made a huge mistake yesterday and hurt my friend's feelings, a really...amazing friend who's been going through a hard time," Kurt could not look at Blaine; he simply could not, "and I feel really bad about it. We can channel our emotions through song, so if it's okay, can I do a solo today?"

"Go ahead," Mr. Schue answered, "we have time."

Kurt thanked him and walked over to the guitarist, asking him if he knew how to play the song. He did; and Kurt stepped back into the spot as the boy warmed up. Rachel was giving him a look; Kurt knew exactly what she was thinking. He ignored her and cued the guitarist when he was ready, and the boy began to play.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night..."

He was singing along when he realized. A peculiar feeling was starting to sweep over his being when it hit him with the next chord change.

It was as if he was seeing him for the first time. Perhaps it was the way the lights were hitting his face, illuminating his porcelain skin and bringing it to life, or how the azure of his eyes seemed so much more prominent, or the way he'd coiffed his hair in a new way, making him look older-it was the same Kurt, but he was so different. It wasn't just related to Kurt's looks, though. The gracefulness of his step, how he treaded so lightly yet commanded the attention of everyone in the room, the emotions he was portraying even through his voice, that beautiful voice...

Something ignited within him; it was subtle at first, but soon began to grow into a gripping flame. It flowed through his veins and engulfed his heart, causing it to beat to an unfamiliar, haunting rhythm. It crept into his lungs like a breath of new life: the air never felt fuller or sweeter. It painted his skin with a color that did not even exist, or perhaps was there the whole time but he could never see it.

Oh, there you are.

Kurt's voice consumed him, the whole room, the entire universe; every electron in existence buzzed with his energy. Nothing else held any meaning; rather, Kurt gave everything meaning.

He'd been looking for him forever, yet there Kurt was, standing right before him, singing for him. Kurt had been there the whole time, and yet it took him until he screwed up the second time to realize just how much Kurt meant to him.

How he hated the way he treated Kurt earlier, how he wished that he took the time to appreciate him. The feelings from when he first saw Kurt were manifested again, but much stronger than before, as he finally understood what they were. He was a lysing cell, his entire being bursting with his heightened emotions.

He could not bring himself to sing again, as he did not want to drown out Kurt's voice with his own. He was afraid that the feeling would disappear once the song came to a close; he was afraid that the feeling would remain and amplify when it ended. He hoped for the latter.

"Thank you, Kurt, that was fantastic!" Mr. Schue said as the clapping ended when Kurt finished the song. "You know, that may qualify for a solo; you never know," he added slyly, and Kurt smiled. He felt loads better than before, although there was still a lingering feeling of doubt as to whether Blaine had accepted his "apology" or not. He glanced at Blaine; he was looking down at his hands, which were sitting in his lap. His body language gave no indication as to what he was feeling. It was better that way for Kurt, as he did not want anything to happen in front of the rest of the Glee club. Rachel grabbed his arm as he sat down next to her.

"Oh my God, that was how you decided to do it?!" She hissed in an accusatory manner as Mr. Schue droned on about how they still needed more people.

"Yeah, and?" Kurt retorted, figuring that she was lashing out in response to Mr. Schue's comment about a solo; she was sensitive to anyone aside from her getting one, even her best friend.

"No, I just-" she stuttered, and then smiled. "I think Blaine liked it, since he was staring at you with this ridiculous look on his face the whole time."

"Define ridiculous." Kurt stole another glance at Blaine, who was looking at Mr. Schue with a dazed expression.

"Kurt, Rachel, do you two have a suggestion for what we can do for our performance next Friday?" Mr. Schue interrupted them.

Performance?"N-no, sorry," Kurt replied, wondering what he was talking about.

"Ugh, come on, we can't recruit people with some crappy 70s song!" Artie groaned.

"Oh," Rachel said under her breath. "Oh,no."

"C'mon, everybody loves disco!" Mr. Schue replied, and everyone sighed.

Blaine continued to avoid Kurt for the next two days; Kurt figured that he still needed more time. By the end of the football game on Friday night, it hurt badly to have Blaine right there yet barely be able to even look at him. He didn't know whether he should say or do something, but felt that the song was more than enough.

Santana had yelled at him for the song. "What were you thinking, Lady?! I don't care if you stole Berry's sweater or whatever you were upset about, but you can't wear your emotions on your uniform-clad sleeve, or display how good you are. You're going to fuck everything up, Hummel! We already failed with Finn, since he was talking about asking Puck to join, and then that Asian kid came, so Coach is going to whip our asses on Monday. Thanks." Kurt simply let her rail on him as he drank his water after the game, which, predictably, they'd lost. Once she was finished, he walked away to Burt's car.

On Saturday afternoon, he was halfway through his moisturizing regimen when his father interrupted him.

"Hey, Kurt, when are you going tonight?" Burt called from upstairs.

"I said I wanted to leave at 7, right?" He shouted back, guessing that his father forgot.

"Okay, well, make sure you're ready a little earlier," Burt said.

"Sure," Kurt replied, rolling his eyes.Of course I'll be ready in time, I just showered and I'm doing this now, so I should be ready in...two more hours?

Eventually he was almost completely ready, with the exception of a final decision on which tie to wear. He was satisfied with his hair, his designer dress shirt, slacks, and shoes, but could not choose which tie he should go with. He knew it wouldn't be much use, but he gathered up his extensive collection in his arms and brought them upstairs to consult Burt about an hour before he wanted to leave.

"Hey Dad, which tie should I wear?" He asked as he emerged from his door and entered the family room, looking down at a rainbow of ties splayed across his forearm.

"I hope you have a red one," a soft voice said, and Kurt snapped his head up.

Blaine was standing next to Burt, wearing a nice tux with a red bow tie. His hair was impeccably gelled, his face completely clean-shaven unlike the day before, where there was a hint of stubble scattered across his cheeks. His eyes were bright as he looked at Kurt; his lips were slightly parted and curled back into a small smile.

"Wait, I thought you were just taking Kurt there?" Burt asked, obviously a little confused. Kurt's feet were glued to the floor. He could hardly even comprehend the fact that Blaine was there.

"He told me to man up, so I am. Mr. Hummel, I'm gay, and I'd like to take your son to homecoming as my date, if that's okay with you...and especially with you, Kurt."