It took Blaine nearly a week to work up the nerve to text Kurt; hed drafted several dozen messages but chickened out before he could press send.

Santana was getting irritated to say the least.

"Give me your phone," she demanded, reaching into his pocket when he find immediately comply.

"Whoa, no, what?"

"Give. Me. Your. Phone," she repeated. "Im tired of watching you type message after message without sending anything. Give me your phone."

"No! I can do this by myself," Blaine glared at her, offended that she seemed to think otherwise. "I was actually about to text him."

"Really."

"Yes, if you must know. Im tired of this too," he told her. He dug around in his pocket for a moment before outline out his phone and scrolling through his contacts until he landed on Kurts number. "What should I say?"

"Ask him how big his dick is," Santana waggled her eyebrows.

"No!" Blaine narrowed his eyes at her. "If you arent going to take this seriously Im not going to let you help me."

"Fine, fine. Do you have any genuine questions about sex?"

"Um," Blaine blushed dark, "yeah, but theyre more- um, personal than they are generic."

"Ooh, look at you," Santana teased with with a grin. "Personal about Porcelain?"

"Shut up," his face felt hotter than ever. "Do you want to help me or not?"

"Alright, Jesus," Santana led him to their couch and patted the cushion next to her. "Start with a simple hey, its Blaine."

"Oh, sure, hey, its the guy that basically harassed you at work the other day, Im going to ask you invasive questions now," Blaine scoffed. "Thats exactly how I want to start- whatever this is."

"Chill," Santana nudged him with her shoulder. "Stop over-thinking this."

"...so just say hey?"

"Yes, Blaine," she rolled her eyes. "Just say hey."

After hesitating for a moment, he re-unlocked his phone and opened up a blank text.

Hey Kurt, this is Blaine.

He took took a deep breath and pressed send.

"Was that really so hard?" Santana rolled her eyes, smug that she had somehow managed to get Blaine to actually talk to the man hed been swooning about for the past week.

"Yes," Blaine pouted. His expression slipped from playful to serious and Santana raised an eyebrow at him. "What if he doesnt respond?"

"He will," she told him. "He wouldnt have given you his number if he wasnt expecting you to use it."

Blaine stared at the phone, willing it to buzz.

"Youre gonna break your phone if you keep glaring at it like that," Santana teased him, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Cmon, help me pick a shitty reality show to make fun of while you wait for Prince Charming to fall in love with you though text."

"I hate you," Blaine commented. "And you can choose whatever, I dont care."

"Aw, youre no fun."

He rolled his eyes just as his phone vibrated in his hand. He shot up out of his slumped position and Santana laughed at his enthusiasm.

The text was only one word:

Hey!

"Now what?" Blaine turned to her with an embarrassed kind of desperation in his eyes. "I cant just start asking questions, that might make him uncomfortable."

"Ask him if now is a good time to talk," Santana leaned over to watch him type.

Do you have time to talk?

Blaine pressed send before he could chicken out, half terrified that he was already overstepping. What if Kurt had been kidding when he'd given him his number? What if he got uncomfortable? Blaine had no idea what he would do if that ended up being the case.

Santana snapped her fingers in front of his face before he could work himself into a panic.

“Blaine, calm yourself,” she told him with a bewildered expression. “Seriously, he isn't going to go running for the hills just because you're curious about things you should've been Googling years ago, Hummel is cooler than that.”

“Right,” he let out a breath he hadn't know he was holding and tried to shake away his remaining nerves. “I wouldn't like him so much if he was that kind of guy.”

“I beg to differ,” Santana snorted. “Remember your one sided fling with Jeremiah? That dude was a douche with a capital d.  And what about your one date with that guy Eli? Didn't he flirt with the waiter the whole time? Your track record isn't as shiny and perfect as you think it is, babe.”

“Don't remind me,” Blaine groaned, covering his face to hide his shame. They had both been huge mistakes that had taken weeks to get over- and months to regain his pride.

“I'm just saying,” she defended herself, “Kurt isn't like the other guys you've panted over, he'll at least have the decency to tell you if he isn't interested.”

“How would you know?” he demanded somewhat petulantly.

“Did you forget that we all went to high school together?” she snickered at him, resting one arm over the back of the couch to keep her balance as she shifted her body to face Blaine completely.

“Oh yeah,” he felt his face turning red and fiddled with his phone. He was so caught up in his embarrassment that he flinched when it buzzed with another text.

Sure, what's up?

Blaine weighed his options before deciding on an innocent enough conversation starter.

I just have a few more questions, if that's okay.

“What did he say?” Santana asked eagerly, already reaching to snatch Blaine's phone out of his hand. Her eyes skimmed the screen for a moment before she passed it back to him.

“What are you going to ask him?"

“....I haven't really thought about that yet,” he admitted. “I was focused more on starting the conversation.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Santana sighed. “What kind of things do you want to know about sex?”

Blaine hesitated, knowing he should tread carefully for fear of the non-stop teasing that would definitely follow whatever he decided to confess.

“I mean,” he began, “I know some stuff already, it's just- the internet isn't always reliable in these kinds of situations.”

“Okay…” Santana looked at him quizzically and was about to ask what he meant when a buzzing sound attracted their attention back to Blaine's phone.

Go for it.