To say Blaine was angry would be an understatement. He was downright pissed off. Confused, frustrated and completely at a loss as to what went wrong. He had been sure his plan to get Kurt to date him would have worked. Didn’t everyone want to be showered with gifts? Serenaded? Wanted? He’d actually put thought and money into his stupid plan and Kurt had thrown it back in his face.
 
Not to mention he was now back at square one, completely humiliated and had no idea where to go from there. Of course, he could give up; find someone else to satisfy his…needs. He didn’t need Kurt to be that person. But he was having too much fun with the chase, of that he was certain. He certainly didn’t care about the person he was chasing. But now he was in too far to find someone else. He had to prove to himself, and to the rest of Dalton, that he could get Kurt Hummel. That’s all this was.
 
Or at least, that’s what he spent the entire Christmas break trying to convince himself of as he brooded and thought over everything that had happened and what he should do next. Now he was back at Dalton and he needed a new plan.
 
He slipped his hand inside Kurt’s coat pocket while the rest of the Warblers were discussing the backing steps to their newest number, mentally cheering when his hand clasped around Kurt’s cellphone. He scrolled through the numbers as quickly as he possibly could, until he found the name he had over heard Kurt say a dozen times. He copied the number into his own phone hurriedly, before replacing Kurt’s cell and stepping back to the group, thankful once again to be the lead and as such, not always needed for rehearsing the backing steps.
 
He took his place in the front of the formation, shooting Kurt a small smile as he turned to face forward, and opened his mouth to sing.
 
---
 
“This is Mercedes,” a confident voice answered the phone on the third ring.
 
“Hi,” Blaine said quietly, his heart racing because this had to be his craziest idea yet.
 
“And you are?” Her question was laced with sass and Blaine no longer had any doubts that when he’d overheard Kurt talking about his friend Mercedes, he had really meant ‘we’re not just best friends, we’re soul mates’.
 
“Um, I’m a friend of Kurt’s from Dalton.”
 
“Is he okay?” She sounded panicked.
 
“He’s fine,” Blaine hurriedly assured her. “I just wanted to ask your advice on something.”

“What’s your name, boy?”
 
“Blaine Anderson,” he tried to sound confident and like his usual cocky self, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was convincing when he was met with the sound of raucous laughter coming through his cell phone. Mercedes was laughing at him.

“Of course you are,” she said. “What do you want?”
 
“I need you to tell me how to get Kurt to go out with me?”
 
“And why would I want to do that?”
 
“Because your best friend deserves a chance at happiness?”
 
“Oh I have heard all about you, from my best friend and I am seriously unsure that you are his chance at happiness.”
 
Blaine swallowed hard, biting his tongue to stop from fighting back and snapping at the girl.
 
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Mercedes said. “Maybe you really do like my boy if you’re speechless. Or maybe you like me and I’ve taken your breath away.”
 
“I really like him okay,” Blaine blurted out, surprising even himself. He couldn’t believe he was admitting this to some complete stranger when he hadn’t even dared think the things he was telling her. “He’s got fight and personality. Not to mention his voice, and how much music obviously means to him. He’s pedantic about his hair, which is adorable. And he’s the first interesting person I’ve met that hasn’t been easy to get into bed.”
 
“I’m going to assume you didn’t mean to sound so self-important with the implications of your promiscuity and just focus on the fact that you’re clearly smitten.”
 
“I am not smitten.” He gritted his teeth, thankful that he had a single room and no one was around to see his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
 
“Spoken like a true smitten white boy,” Mercedes laughed. “I can hear the little hearts in your eyes down the phone.” 
 
Blaine didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything.
 
“Look, my boy told me all about your attempts to get in his pants, but he must be blind or stupid because he seems to think you’re just out to sleep with him and then humiliate him.”
 
“Maybe I am.”
 
“No you’re not,” Mercedes said. “And because of this, and because he’s also told me in his angry ranting about you that you have the voice of an angel and are frustratingly attractive, I am going to help you.”
 
---
 
Kurt was in the process of rearranging his closet to accommodate some of his new Christmas purchases and gifts, organizing his scarves into some semblance of an order, when he heard the knock at his dorm room door. He called out to whoever was there that he’d be there in a minute, not wanting to leave in the middle of his task, these scarves need not be neglected after all.
 
A moment later, he quickly stepped to the door, however when it was finally opened, there was no one standing there to greet him. Sighing, he looked around, frustrated at the other boys in the dormitory for playing whatever pointless prank that was. Until he spotted the folded piece of paper on the floor.
 
He bent down to pick it up, stepping back inside the room and shutting the door before unfolding the paper with cautious interest. In a familiar, neat script was written, “falling, yes I’m falling/and he keeps calling/me back again”, above a crudely drawn heart. Kurt couldn’t help but smile, even though he was frowning slightly, confused as to who had left this. He had a vague idea – he knew that handwriting, and he knew who had that handwriting and also liked the Beatles – but he was too afraid to admit just who might have left such a sweet gesture for him. All this meant was that he hadn’t quite given up, and could very well continue to humiliate him.
 
Despite this, Kurt wandered slowly over to where his laptop was sitting on his desk, opening up iTunes and starting his Beatles playlist on a particular track. He couldn’t help but sigh, lying back against the many throw pillows he had on his bed, reading over the words of the note once more. He ignored the racing of his heart, the fluttering of his stomach and focused his energy on pushing thoughts of Blaine Anderson from his mind. Which in theory, probably didn’t make much sense considering he was focusing on the words on the paper that were so likely written by the persistent boy. However Kurt focused on the lyrics, and on the melody and the voices flittering through the room. He was completely in his own little world when he was startled by the vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks.
 
“You have every right to tell me to go fuck myself, but I’m risking it anyway, because you’re worth it. I hear that it’s normal to just ask the person you like out on a casual date. So, would you like to get coffee with me after classes tomorrow? Blaine, xx”
 
Kurt was positive he resembled a confused fish at that moment. Yes, that’s right. Not only was he gaping like a normal fish gapes; he was gaping like a sea creature that had just been asked out politely by the school slut.

When he finally managed to think properly his first instinct was to ignore the text, or send back an angry response telling Blaine to go away. But the piece of paper still held tightly in his left hand made him stop and think clearly about what he was being asked. It was obvious that Blaine was actually trying, for whatever reason. Kurt remembered the few moments that Blaine had made him doubt whether or not there was more to the arrogant asshole persona that the spoilt brat projected to the entire school.
 
Falling, yes falling,
And he keeps calling, 
Me back again…
 
It was time for Kurt to suck up his pride and take a chance for once; after all, for all of Blaine’s faults, he was definitely interesting and maybe even worth taking the time to find out why he was so interesting, and why he was like he was.
 
He quickly tapped out a response, before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, and waiting anxiously for another message from Blaine to confirm a time and place to meet. He chewed nervously on his thumbnail, a habit he absolutely despised about himself, and worried that he wasn’t going to have any nails left by the time four o’clock rolled around the next day.
 
---
 
As much as he tried to come up with an excuse to not go to coffee, or to convince himself to just not turn up, Kurt wasn’t that kind of person. He couldn’t just stand someone up, especially a cute boy who actually seemed to be trying to be nice to him, for some strange reason. So when classes finished the next day, Kurt hurried back to his room to change into the outfit he had carefully laid out that morning (because every moment was an opportunity for fashion, not because he was trying to impress anyone) and spent the short amount of time before four o’clock fixing his hair and trying to act like he wasn’t preening himself to perfection for any particular reason.
 
“You came,” Blaine said when Kurt approached where he was standing at the edge of the parking lot.
 
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Kurt avoided Blaine’s eyes.
 
“I’m just surprised is all,” the small smile was noticeable only to those that took the care to look closely, and was missed by Kurt who was still looking anywhere but at Blaine, attempting to hide his nerves even though he knew he was most likely failing miserably.
 
“Shall we?” Blaine led the way to his car, and Kurt tried not to roll his eyes at how obviously expensive the thing was, merely sliding into the passenger seat with grace.
 
“Do you mind where we go? I know this place that makes amazing coffee that’s quite close, unless you have any preferences?”
 
“Oh wherever you think is fine,” Kurt spoke quietly. “I don’t really know places in the area all that well yet.”
 
Blaine nodded and they left the parking lot neither saying much of anything the short ride to the café. Kurt stared at his hands a lot, smiling as Blaine quietly sang along to the music playing on the stereo but still not really having the courage to strike up a conversation; he could wait until he had a drink in his hands and something to focus on instead of the nervous energy that was racing through him.
 
Ten minutes later, the pair were seated at a small table in the back of a tiny little independent coffee shop, that Kurt was surprised to learn that Blaine frequented. They were sipping coffee and attempting desperately to make conversation but it was obvious to both that they were nervous to be themselves.
 
Eventually the long silences and awkwardly terse remarks led to stock standard questions about their Christmas breaks. And the questions of presents and time spent reading and watching films led to excited exclamations of “you’ve read Patti LuPone’s new book?” and “I can’t believe you got a subscription to Vogue for Christmas, I’m so jealous” and suddenly they were talking non stop, as comfortable as two people could be in each others company.
 
“I got really lucky with my Dad,” Kurt smiled over his coffee cup, agreeing with Blaine’s sentiment about the present his father had given him for the holiday. “He didn’t really know how to handle me being gay at first, but he says he’s known since I was a little kid and he’d do anything to make things easier for me. Including using his honeymoon money to pay for my tuition at Dalton.”
 
He didn’t know how their conversation suddenly got serious, but the look in Blaine’s eyes told him that he was uncomfortable and didn’t really know how to respond.
 
“That sounds really lovely, Kurt,” Blaine said, his smile genuine but not quite reaching his eyes.
 
“How about you?” Kurt tried to steer the conversation away from his father. “What did your parents get you for Christmas? Something fabulous, no doubt.”
 
Blaine cleared his throat slightly, taking a sip from his drink before painting his usual smirk back on his face and Kurt found himself startled by how easily he could now see the difference between the false smirk and the real, genuine smile that he had rarely seen before that day.
 
“Well, yeah,” Blaine said as though there would be no other answer. “New computer, the interior of my car is getting refitted, and my father invited some Buckeyes players over for dinner over the break.”
 
Kurt could tell that the smirk and the shrug to show that it was all nothing were less than genuine. The gifts didn’t quite fit with all he had learnt about Blaine so far; sure, who didn’t want a new computer, or to meet sports stars, if they were into that sort of thing? But Blaine clearly loved music, and shows and fashion, if the way he’d sung along to the Rent soundtrack in the car, or the way his eyes had lit up as they’d talked about Patti LuPone, were any indication.
 
“Do you like football then?” Kurt asked, picking the easy question instead of the prying personal questions about Blaine’s relationship with his father that he actually wanted to ask.
 
“I love the Buckeyes,” Blaine smirked and winked, just for good measure. “I like to break the stereotype.”
 
Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes in frustration, and probably with a hint of fondness if he dared admit it. He couldn’t think of much to say after that, really having to bite his tongue to keep from saying something rude about Blaine and his family and the pretense that he was keeping up.
 
They finished their coffees in relative silence before deciding they’d better get back and exited the small café. Neither of the boys spoke until Blaine was walking Kurt to his door.
 
“You know I’m not a girl right?” Kurt said dryly. “I don’t need to be walked to the threshold.”
 
“I know,” was all Blaine said, smirk in place.
 
Kurt sighed, stopping outside his door and turning to look at the other boy.
 
“What?” Blaine asked cautiously. “You’re thinking too hard, I can tell.”
 
“I just think that this cocky, arrogant, holier-than-thou persona that you present to the rest of the school, and to me a lot of the time, isn’t the real you,” Kurt finally worked up the courage to say. “I think you’re capable of actually being a decent human being, and I wish you would be that human being more often.”
 
Blaine’s jaw clenched, and Kurt watched him fight with himself, saw a dozen different comebacks and admittances flash across his eyes. But before Blaine could run away or say something mean and hurtful or downright inappropriate, Kurt leant forward and kissed Blaine; just a simple, sweet and lasting kiss, quite unlike their previous encounters.
 
He pulled back before Blaine had a chance to respond, and had moved to unlock his door and step inside, when Blaine clasped his upper arm and pulled them flush together. A pair of strong hands held his face with a surprisingly gentle touch and their lips met once more. There were no tongues, no teeth, no battle of wills, but the kiss was anything but chaste.
 
And then, the moment passed, and Blaine was walking away, leaving him standing by his door, shaking slightly, lips tingling and heart racing in the most beautifully clichéd way.