The next morning after breakfast with Burt and Carole, Kurt was ensconced in a comfortable chair in his apartment, laptop in hand, working furiously on his screenplay.  He had gone back and rewritten the overtly angry parts, making the tone more wistful.  When he went back and re-read from the beginning, he could see some places that still needed work, but, overall, he was pleasantly surprised by how well the story was shaping up. 

He looked up when he heard a sharp rap on the door. 

Setting his laptop on the floor, he rose from the chair and walked to the door, expecting to see his dad.  Instead, it was Blaine looking fresh and kissable.  Kurt hated him a little for that. 

Not taking his hand off the door nor offering for Blaine to come in, Kurt just looked at Blaine with one eyebrow raised. 

Blaine gave Kurt a tentative smile.  "Good morning.  I just realized that since this is your first time to the area, youve probably never been to Provincetown.  Its incredible, Kurt.  Nearly all the businesses are gay-owned, and its a place where you feel like you really belong, you know?  Its not big, like San Francisco, or touristy, like Key West, and I know youll just love it.  Come with me for the day.  Please?"

Kurts eyebrow arched even higher, "Like a date?"

"Well, um, I...er," Blaine stammered.

"You know what, Blaine?  Forget it.  No, I dont want to go to Provincetown, or, really, anywhere with you.  Now, if youll excuse me, I have things to do."  With that Kurt shut the door very firmly in Blaines face. 

Kurt stood and simply looked at the closed door for a moment, fuming, and then he realized something:  he was an idiot. 

He expected something of Blaine, and he was mad at Blaine for not reading his mind.  At the same time, he created a whole story about what was going on in Blaines mind, but he didnt know.  The one person who knew what was going on with Blaine was Blaine.  And if Kurt wanted to know what was really going on, all he had to do was ask him.  Sure, if Blaine admitted that he had a boyfriend, that would sting, but then at least Kurt would know and he could be done with Blaine, plain and simple.  If he didnt have a boyfriend, and he simply wasnt interested in Kurt in that way, then it would be a little embarrassing, but so what?  There were seven million people in New York; it wasnt like he was going to see Blaine everywhere he went. 

Kurt realized that when he was young--back in high school--he always went after what he wanted, be it a solo in Glee, class President, or a cute boy.  Most of the time he was ignored, laughed at, or politely rejected, and that was humiliating, but he lived.  Sadly, somewhere over the years he had quit asking for what he wanted because he didnt want to be rejected.  He didnt know what he thought would happen if he put himself out there and didnt get what he expected.  What he really that afraid of disappointment?  If he was, hed chosen the wrong career. 

Kurt realized that love and relationships and even just dating didnt have to be a minefield of what ifs and if onlys and whats he thinking?  Instead, he could just ask, and then he would know.  What was the worst that could happen?  Kurt shook his head.  Had it really taken him twenty-three years to figure that out? 

Kurt flung over the door and raced down the stairs to the garage just in time to see Blaine exiting the building. 

"Blaine, wait!" he yelled, and Blaine paused and looked back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. 

Kurt grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the apartment.  Blaine gave a small squawk, but he followed willingly enough.  Once inside, Kurt pointed at the chair he had vacated earlier and ordered, "Sit." 

Blaine sat. 

"I have to know whats going on, Blaine.  You invited me to your gig at the piano bar and flirted with me.  What that just a show?  Then you taught me to float and to surf, and your hands were all over me.  Was that really necessary, or were you coming onto me?  Were you planning to kiss me before my dad interrupted us?  Why didnt you kiss me after he left?  And why did you come here with the aloe?  Why did you rub it on me instead of just handing it to me?  And what was the deal with your hand on my dick, Blaine?  Why did you run away?  Is that just something you do?  Do you have a boyfriend?  Is that why youre blowing so hot and cold?  How am I supposed to make sense of all of this?  Are you just screwing with me, or what?  You have to tell me!"  Kurt was practically shouting by the end.  

Blaine looked at Kurt wide eyed, and then he said after a minute, "Um, could you repeat the questions?  There were kind of a lot of them."

Kurt threw his hands in the air.  "I like you, Blaine.  Ive liked you since the first time I saw you at Dalton.  Ive fantasized about you, for Gods sake, more than once.  I want to go out with you.  I want to kiss you.  No, I want to do a lot more than that.  A lot more, but you keep sending me mixed signals, and I dont want to do this wondering thing.  I need to know where I stand.  So whats up with you?"

Blaine ran a hand through his hair and then looked down at the floor.  After a couple of beats he looked up, "Kurt, Im so bad at this."

Kurts steam subsided, and he gracefully folded himself onto the floor, cross-legged at Blaines feet.  "Talk to me, Blaine.  I dont care if you do it badly." 

"Im crazy about you...Kurt.  When I saw you for the first time at Dalton, I thought my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.  When I sang ‘Teenage Dream, I was singing right to you.  I hoped you would...well, I dont know what I hoped.  Just...something.  Ive thought about you, Kurt.  A lot...over these last six years.  Some of my thoughts have been...pretty inappropriate, but really hot.  When I saw you on the island, I couldnt believe my luck.  But then I realized that a guy like you, who could probably have their pick of any gay man in New York City--youre so beautiful--that guy was never going to be interested in me.  But I kept being drawn to you.  And every time I got my nerve up to make a move, something interrupted us, and then I chickened out."

Kurt was stunned.  This was going way better than he expected.  Then he remembered something, "No one interrupted us up here," Kurt gestured at the apartment, "with the aloe vera."

"No, I know.  But you were sunburned, Kurt.  I kissed your neck and it hurt you.  I guess some people like to inflict pain, but its not my kink.  But I knew that if I stayed, I wouldnt be able to stop touching you, stop kissing you, and it was going to hurt so, so much.  So I left."

"Why didnt you just talk to me?  You ran out of here like your shirt was on fire."

"I should have.  I should have.  Im just...not good...at communicating.  I dont know what my problem is.  You seem really close to your dad, but my family doesnt talk--not about whats going on inside us.  I should be able to just say what I want and not worry about the consequences.  If you dont like me, thats about you, not me, right?  But, instead, Im always such an idiot." 

Kurt smiled softly at Blaine and pushed playfully at his knee, "I dont think youre an idiot."  Then Kurt remembered something and his smile fell, "You didnt say whether or not you have a boyfriend."

"A what?  No!  Kurt.  If I had a boyfriend, I would have never...not with you.  Not with anyone.  That would be cheating.  I would never do that." 

Kurt felt an enormous sense of relief.  He nodded and smiled, "Thats good."

"Do you really like me?" Blaine asked in a small voice.  Then hearing himself he chuckled ruefully, "God, I sound like a junior high kid."  He held out his hand, palm up like a piece of paper in front of Kurt.  "Check yes or no."

Kurt took his index finger and drew an X in the middle of Blaines palm with a light touch.  Blaine shivered.  Kurt answered, "Yes, I really like you, Blaine.  I like you a lot." 

A smile broke out on Blaines lips and spread across his face, "Does this mean youll go to Provincetown with me?"

"I dunno," Kurt pretended to ponder, "I hear its pretty gay." 

"Lucky for us," Blaine stood up and put a hand down to Kurt, "were pretty gay." 

"Well, okay then."

"Okay." 

-s-

They took the ferry from Nantucket back to Hyannis.  Since Kurt had conveniently stashed his Navigator at the parking lot there, he paid the small ransom to be let out of the lot and drove them to Provincetown at the tip of Cape Cod.

They walked around the streets, holding hands and occasionally wrapping an arm around the other and pulling them close.  Although there were some straight tourists, the vast majority of those filling the street were gay, many were couples, some-like Kurt and Blaine-were holding hands or even kissing.  Men far outnumbered women.  They had a delicious lunch at The Lobster Pot and wandered into art galleries where Kurt pointed out interesting and refined pieces, and Blaine gravitated toward some shocking, brightly painted horrors. 

At 3:50, Blaine looked at his watch and said, "Oh, were going to be late."

"For what?"

"The Tea Dance!"

"The what?"

"Just cmon."  Taking Kurts hand Blaine began running through the streets, and as Kurt ran after him, he couldnt help but be reminded of a time, six years ago, when they were doing something similar in the halls at Dalton.  Blaine slowed when they reached the Boatslip Resort, and Kurts eyes grew as wide as saucers. 

Everywhere he could see were men--many of them shirtless.  They were all sizes and ages, and about half were shirtless.  And they were...dancing.  Everyone was dancing.  At four oclock in the afternoon.  It was a massive, outdoor, dance party.  Blaine dragged Kurt into the heart of the throng, and within minutes, Kurt had his hands in the air and was gyrating to the beat.  He threw his head back and laughed.  This was the best day of his life. 

Sadly, after an hour of dancing, cavorting, touching, and, yes, some really dirty grinding, Blaine reminded Kurt that he had to work that night at the piano bar, so they returned to Kurts Navigator, and he drove them back to the ferry. 

"I had a really great time today, thank you," Kurt smiled at Blaine as the ferry was pulling into Nantucket Harbor. 

"Me, too," Blaine smiled back. 

Blaine nudged Kurt with his shoulder and then stayed there with his arm pressed up against Kurts.  

"Blaine," Kurt asked finally as the ferry lurched to a stop, "when you get off work tonight, will you come back to my apartment?  After youve showered, of course." 

Blaine nodded, "Of course."  Then he put his mouth very close to Kurts ear, "Ill look forward to seeing your face in the bathroom window."