An entire week has passed. Kurt was busy with Warbler practice devoted exclusively to the upcoming Regionals. Also midterms were approaching, and he promised to give it his best, for the sake of his father’s money, if not for himself. Apart from that, almost every day after school he made plans to hang out with his girls. Wednesday was Tina’s birthday, and he even managed to squeeze in a sleepover into his busy schedule.

Kurt had survived until Thursday, which was a big accomplishment.  After another nerve-racking day, it was good to finally return to his dorm room. Filling Pavarotti’s feeder, he felt the pressure dissipate; glad he finally had a relatively free evening. Observing the canary nibbling at the seeds, Kurt thought about Regionals and the struggle he will have to face competing with his friends. He briefly toyed with the strange idea of returning to McKinley, walking down the hallways in one of his fabulous outfits, giving his trademark superior look to the jocks, singing a mind-blowing solo in Glee. The nostalgia sometimes stung a little bit, but going back for real would be like stepping out of the safest tower of a castle to fight with a hungry dragon. Dalton was truly like a fairytale escape, and Kurt wouldn’t give it up for the whole world.

Paying attention in classes this week was difficult, but mostly it felt good to concentrate on his academic performance because it took his mind off those insistent little thoughts he didn’t want to deal with right now. Kurt couldn’t explain the rush of adrenaline he felt after reading one particular pamphlet, so different from the other ones, entitled “The Joys of Gay Sex”, which dealt more with the emotional side of a sexually active life. He felt as if someone charged his skin with electricity, as if tons of new possibilities opened up before his eyes. He felt liberated, but a little bit scared.

Shaking those thoughts away, Kurt lay on the bed and was about to start reading his biology textbook, when Blaine walked into their room, all sweaty and worked-up from his boxing practice. A white fluffy towel hung around his neck, a tank top possessively clung to his chest, a pair of boxing gloves hung carelessly over his shoulder. Blaine had boxing practice twice a week for the last 6 months, but not a single time was Kurt prepared to the sight that greeted him afterwards. The exposed muscles on Blaine’s forearms, little drops of sweat rolling down his neck and curls escaping from the gel at the nape of his neck were all something Kurt wouldn’t mind staring at all day.

- Hi, Kurt! – greeted him Blaine, while kicking off his trainers, - So, how are the girls? You miss them?

Trying to focus more on his homework than on the flexing muscles of Blaine’s chest under that thin tank top was indeed a herculean task.

- Yeah, they’re great. We had a sleepover at Tina’s the other day, - said Kurt vaguely.

- How come the two of us don’t ever have sleepovers? – Blaine pouted, uncapping a bottle of water.

- We’re roommates, Blaine. We sleep in the same room almost every day, - Kurt declared flatly, though his insides stirred a little at the sight of Blaine drinking water, as his eyes followed the few escaped drops that were running down his neck. He couldn’t deal with Blaine’s whining when he looked like a sexy model for a water advertisement.

- You know that’s not the real idea of a sleepover. We can order pizza and gossip too, you know. I truly believe the uniform restrains you a little bit, - Blaine smiled disarmingly.

‘YOU restrain me a little bit, moron’ Kurt thought, blushing.

- Come on, we can move the beds together and you can teach me how to do my nails or something. I can even wear pajamas.

The puppy dog eyes Blaine was using right now could be considered a weapon of mass destruction.

- Alright, if that’s what you want, - Kurt sighed in defeat.

- Sweet! Can you order some pizza? I’ll go hit the shower.

Before the images of naked and wet Blaine could flood his mind, Kurt dialed the number of the pizza delivery.

In an hour, Blaine was starting to get anxious. He already moved the beds, adjusted the laptop and changed into pajamas, but Kurt still wasn’t back with their food. He probably should’ve volunteered to go himself. Just as Blaine contemplated the idea of going downstairs to see what happened, Kurt opened the door.

- What took you so long? – Blaine took the boxes off Kurt’s hands, while he removed the jacket.

- It’s unbelievable! My friend Sam was there. From McKinley, - Kurt seemed truly stunned.

- Wait, Sam is the blond guy, right? - Blaine asked, remembering unclear bits of Rachel’s party.

- Yes. He now works as a pizza boy!

Kurt filled in Blaine on the newly found situation with Sam, and at the same time picked up his perfectly ironed pajamas from the closet. Then he changed in the bathroom, and when he finally sat on the bed, Blaine was already chewing a slice of pizza. Kurt helped himself to a piece too, taking it graciously with a napkin.

- So you think Sam’s cute?

Kurt chocked on his pizza, and flushed as deep a red as the tomatoes that were stuck in his throat. He glared at Blaine.

- What? That’s such a simple question.

- Okay. If you really want to do this, I do think he’s attractive. I actually had a crush on him when he first transferred.

- Oh that’s interesting. Have a thing for blondes? – Blaine quirked his eyebrows teasingly.

Kurt sighed. If Blaine wanted to go there, he wouldn’t be the one to ruin all the fun. After all, he decided that they really were better off as friends. So, let’s do what friends do.

- Not at all, but you should’ve seen him in our version of Rocky Horror.

- You did Rocky Horror? Seriously? At school? Who were you?

- Just your regular creepy bald guy. Okay, wait, I’ll show you.

Kurt thoroughly cleaned off his fingers and reached for the laptop. The youtube channel of the New Directions contained an archive of their performances, which were regularly updated by Rachel Berry herself. Seeing Kurt’s friends all dressed up in amazingly plausible costumes, Blaine started to laugh, and couldn’t stop until the end of the video.

- Wow, Kurt! That’s terrific! You all look so believable, – Blaine chuckled.

- Originally, Sam had to do it shirtless! Let me tell you, the boy has perfect abs.

Kurt seemed to talk confidently, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. Blaine felt a pang of uneasiness. Why was Kurt complimenting another guy’s body so strangely uncomfortable? He tried to suppress the feeling, and be as cheerful as possible.

- Show me some more videos! I want to see you in your natural habitat. What’s that? “Le Jazz Hot”! Is it from Victor/Victoria?

Despite a stream of “no, Blaine, please, close it”, and some hair tugging and pushing, Blaine still managed to open the video. Watching as Kurt danced, his split outfit, owning the stage, dancing and singing in the spotlight, gyrating his hips and smiling a victory smile to the audience, not a hint of shame or insecurity, Blaine was completely in awe.

- Why would you not want me to see it, Kurt? It’s so amazing!

Kurt settled on the far corner of the bed, not protesting, feigning complete disinterest, but occasionally stealing a glace or two at the screen.

Blaine watched the majority of videos of the channel, and he couldn’t tear away his eyes from the screen. Kurt in a leotard doing the Single Ladies dance, Kurt singing his heart out in A House Is Not a Home, Kurt as a little monster in the highest heels singing Bad Romance, even a brief glimpse of cowboy Kurt in Last Name - all rendered Blaine speechless. He was completely blown away by the boy’s talent. Kurt was a star, and he shone bright as a soloist as well as a group member.

- I do understand now why you think the Warblers are so unimaginative, - Blaine murmured to break the sudden tension.

Kurt paused for a moment, before taking a deep breath.

- Well, I do like the Warblers, there’s a certain charm about all-male accapella groups. But while in the New Directions, I could do whatever the hell I wanted, as you can see from the videos. And it felt like I was free. Like I could be myself.

Blaine nodded in understanding. He thought about how Kurt didn’t really want to be in Dalton, and the bullying that made him come here, and the whims of fate that made them meet.

- Do you miss your friends? – Blaine whispered.

- I do. I miss them all the time. But I would never leave Dalton.

- That’s a relief. If you left I’d miss you.

They beamed at each other and Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand. He took it gently in his own, and caressed the back of it with his thumb. Kurt looked as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly changed his mind.

- If I’m not mistaken, someone mentioned a manicure? - Kurt pronounced with a hopeful voice, squeezing Blaine’s hand.

In about two hours, Blaine’s nails were all trimmed a nice oval shape and covered with a thin layer of protective colorless polish. He wiggled the fingers on the left hand, but Kurt stopped him.

- They’re not dry yet.

- Kurt, I have a serious question for you. Just remember, you have to be one hundred percent honest, - declared Blaine seriously.

- What is it? – Kurt’s breath hitched involuntarily.

- Is there anything that you can’t do? Seriously, you bake, sing, act, dance, knit, sew, cook, and now it turns out you can give manicures.

- Shut up. You make me sound like a housewife.

- Mrs. Hummel, may I move my hand now?

- I’ll just cut your hand off with this nail file, so you never have to move it again!

Blaine laughed, but didn’t move his fingers.

- Oh god, I’ve missed you. You know, we haven’t really talked for a whole week, - Blaine said quietly.

- Yeah, that’s true.

Kurt settled with his back to the headboard, and played a little with the small round candle, which was lit amongst the mess of the objects on the bed. He followed the tiny flame dance with his fingers, as if trying to catch the fire. Then he swiftly extinguished it with one quick motion. Blaine looked at Kurt intently, following his every move. When he realized that he was probably making Kurt uncomfortable with all this staring, Blaine softly blew on his nails, urging them to dry faster.

Kurt seemed slightly hesitant, but then he just lay on his back, relaxing his body completely, and looked at the ceiling. He started talking in a voice that resembled a whisper, as if he was talking to himself.

- I wanted to tell you something. I called you actually, but it seemed a little impersonal talking about this kind of stuff over the phone. You know, you said we weren’t communicating on an open level. So, I’d like to say, I guess that sex talk helped me in a way. And the pamphlets that followed. I’ve read like, 6 pamphlets. And this one pamphlet was wonderful. It wasn’t written like the others, explaining what is normal to experience for a “young man of your age”. Not a single word about hair or… erections.

His voice was firm, but Blaine saw that blush creep up Kurt’s neck. Oh sweet, innocent Kurt.

 - This one was actually about the mental preparation. It was about how a lot of teenagers, especially gay, as opposed to what the media is showing, are not these sexually obsessed maniacs, overconfident supermen, but they’re actually pretty afraid and self-conscious. Because society made them fear that one act that makes them different. I never thought I would feel this way, but it made me feel less alone.

- But what are you afraid of exactly? Are you self-conscious about your body? Kurt, that’s… - Blaine was so incredulous his jaw nearly dropped.

- No, it’s not my body, - Kurt cut Blaine off sharply at mid-word, but after a pause, continued softly - Well, maybe I’m a little bit self-conscious about my body, just in a way that every teenager is. But in reality, I’m self-conscious because of the intimacy, and I expect sexual intimacy will be something that makes me vulnerable, instead of powerful.

He turned to face Blaine for a moment, as if searching understanding and support in his eyes.

-You know, Blaine, I always prescribed a great deal of importance to clothes. I have tons of notebooks covered in sketches of outfits, I dress up carefully even when I go to pick the mail. It’s something that I do, because clothes make me untouchable, they show everybody who I am. What I’m really afraid of is people seeing that inner part of me, that is covered by this shell of clothes. To open up and face rejection, - his voice broke a little at the last sentence.

Blaine’s first reflex was to comfort Kurt, tell him that he’s never going to fail. But he didn’t. He wanted Kurt to continue talking, it was one of the few times when Kurt really opened up, and Blaine was ready to listen.

- But I’m not afraid anymore, I’m not ashamed, - Kurt was talking more to himself now, as if to strengthen his own opinion, - My father mentioned sharing the first time with someone I really love, to use it as a way to connect to another person. He even said “when you’re 30 it is a great gift to yourself”. I was constantly worried that I’m gonna go to college and be the only virgin, because of this irrational fears. I don’t really care now, not at all. Age doesn’t matter, it’s feelings that matter.  Plus, there is a way to make this whole sex thing very romantic.

- Don’t you think the whole concept of virginity is deeply overrated? – asked Blaine tentatively.

Kurt lifted his head, as if he was surprised someone was even in the room.

- What do you mean?

- Just… Haven’t you thought about it? Between gay people, who is a virgin, who is not? Does masturbation count as loss of virginity? What does it mean to be sexually active? – Blaine tried to stay calm, but was unable to stop asking all the questions. Kurt’s opinion was something that he wanted to hear immensely. He hasn’t exactly met a lot of people that he could discuss this question with.

- I don’t know. I guess everyone decides for themselves. - Kurt sprawled back on the bed, - I think being completely naked with someone, letting them touch you, would already count as a giant step.

- That makes sense, - affirmed Blaine, watching as Kurt snuggled his head on the pillow and stifled back a yawn. Blaine checked the time on the phone and found out it was already past one.

- Maybe it’s more of a psychological thing, - Kurt murmured, his eyes already closing.

- Though you can’t really control your own thoughts, - he added, barely conscious.

When Blaine came back to the room, having thrown the garbage away, Kurt was deeply asleep.

Blaine carefully cleaned up the bed from all the manicure tools and unnecessary items. He looked at Kurt sleeping on their adjoined beds, his friend Kurt, and realized the fact that he was the most remarkable person Blaine has ever met.

His eyes caught sight of Kurt’s belly, under the accidentally raised shirt. Not even once the feeling of guilt crossed his mind, upon remembering what he did last time, when his imagination was left alone with thoughts of Kurt. Blaine was far too comfortable with his fantasies, and surely thinking about Kurt sexually was just a compliment to his astounding looks. And it meant very little.

What Blaine has seen in the videos and learned in Kurt’s speech tonight was a compliment to Kurt’s mind. And it was far more valuable.

He thought about Kurt with a big white wig on his head and sequins and glitter and high-heels, being himself for the whole world to see, fierce and powerful. How many different sides of Kurt were still unknown to Blaine? He could be proud and detached, passionate and caring, tender and sweet.

Looking at Kurt’s face, relaxed and graceful, he suddenly thought about kissing his lips. The idea was completely wild and made his heart pound twice as quicker. What if? Blaine really needed the magic of a sudden kiss, like one that is shared in fairytales. Easy, sweet, passionate, priceless, a kiss that resolves all the problems right away and guarantees a happily ever after. Just one kiss that would wake Kurt up and immediately make him admire Blaine in return.

Instead, Blaine tucked Kurt in and lay beside him to sleep himself.