Kurt descended the staircase slowly, waiting for Blaine to rush by. Praying that Blaine would rush by. And then he did, and Kurt felt his presence before he even saw him. Kurt's voice was shaking so badly, but he managed to call out, “Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I'm new here.”

Blaine turned around and held out a hand, “My name's Blaine,” and Kurt nearly sagged with relief because it was exactly as it had happened those years ago. He was just sure of it. Kurt put out his own hand, and then used every ounce of his self-control to simply shake and say, “Kurt,” rather than pull Blaine into the embrace that he wanted and never let him go.

Oh, who was he kidding?  He didnt want to hug Blaine.  He wanted to sling Blaine over his shoulder, carry him out of Dalton, throw him in his car, and drive somewhere far, far away where no holes in time could ever separate them again.

Kurt's voice trembled a little when he asked, “So, what exactly's going on?”

Blaine smiled and looked around, “Warblers. Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the Senior Commons. It tends to shut the school down for a while.”

Kurt wanted to melt, Blaine looked so beautiful. Maybe over the years Kurt had kind of gotten used to Blaine. He hadn't taken him for granted, exactly, but he didn't always stop and recognize how stunning Blaine was, or how much his smile lit up a room. Now it was like he was seeing him for the first time, and Kurt's breath caught in his throat, because his fiancé was a picture of grace, warmth, charm, and masculinity. Kurt cleared his throat and pulled himself together, and he was happy to hear that his voice didn't shake when he said, “So, wait. Your glee club is kind of popular here?”

“The Warblers are like rock stars. Follow me, I know a short cut.”

Follow me? Follow me?! That wasn't right. That wasn't right, at all. No! Nonononononono!

Still Kurt followed at a trot, and when they arrived in the Commons, Kurt remembered to say (although his head was reeling), “Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Blaine smiled and replied, “Well, next time, don't forget your jacket, new kid. You'll fit right in.” He touched Kurt's lapel, straightening it. “Now, if you'll excuse me…”

And then he was off to stand with the Warblers. As the Warblers began singing “Teenage Dream,” (and, even though Kurt thought Blaine sounded a little more breathy than he did now after his NYADA training, he still found it to be one of Blaine's most captivating performances), Kurt was a little relieved to see that Blaine seemed to be singing straight to him. But when Blaine pointed as he sang, “You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream,” Kurt saw that Blaine wasn't pointing at him, but the boy in a navy blue sweater dancing right next to Kurt. Was that right? Didn't Blaine point to Kurt the first time around, or had Kurt just thought that originally because he wanted it to be true?

Kurt looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye. He was nice looking in a rather unremarkable way, and he was dancing with enthusiasm in his gray slacks and dark tie, doing some dance move with his hands that was kind of like climbing a ladder.

One thing that Kurt remembered from the first time was how stunned he was at the enthusiasm by which the Dalton students reacted to the Warblers, but his memory didn't serve it justice. Students were responding with absolute abandon, giving in to the most absurd dance moves that revealed pure joy. It made Kurt a little sad to realize that time had taken the bright edges off of a lot of good memories like this one.

Then Blaine sang, “Don't ever look back; don't ever look back,” and he was not looking at the boy next to Kurt. He was looking dead at Kurt, a look of deep intensity in his eyes. Kurt's own eyes widened. Did he know? How could Kurt not look back? It was all he could do these days. Did the message mean that Kurt shouldn't try to remember how to replicate the past—that he should simply live and move forward in this new past?

Kurt shook his head. He was not going to mine deep, existential meaning from a Katy Perry song. That was absurd.

And then Blaine was singing, “Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight,” and Kurt felt a desire for Blaine more intense than he had felt in years. He loved Blaine so much. He loved him. He belonged with him. They were a part of each other in a way that he—if he lived to be a million—would never experience with another man. Whatever it took, Kurt resolved, Blaine and he would be together. If he had to crush Matt and sweater boy and everyone else in the process, it didn't matter. Blaine was his.

Afterward, as the crowd began to dissipate after the clapping and cheering, Blaine walked up to Kurt, put a hand on his back, and said, “Why don't you come into the other room and we'll talk about what you're really doing here?” Kurt nodded and followed meekly.

Now Kurt was seated at a table opposite Wes, David, Blaine and the guy that had been standing next to Kurt during the song. That wasn't right, either. What was that guy doing here?

Blaine introduced them all around, including the guy, whose name was James, apparently. They chatted a bit and reassured Kurt that they weren't going to beat him up for spying, since he clearly had another reason for being there. (Yes, Kurt wanted to scream, I'm here to get my fiancé back!) Kurt then drew in a breath and asked the question that had always mortified him, looking back, because it made him sound so pathetically naïve. “Are you guys all gay?”

They chuckled good-naturedly, and then Blaine said, “Uh, no. Well, I mean, I am, but Wes and David have girlfriends, and James here is my boyfriend.”

What?!

They all stared at Kurt, and he realized he had said it out loud. He blushed, cleared his throat, and said in a quieter voice, “Er, I mean, how did you two meet?”

James laughed and smiled at Blaine, “It was a crazy thing. Blaine thinks it was supernatural—he's always reading Harry Potter, you know.”

Blaine blushed prettily, but he didn't interrupt his boyfriend who continued, “About a year ago we were all playing soccer on the practice field, and Blaine swears that an angel pulled up in a black Navigator—like that's how celestial beings move around. Anyhow, Blaine said the angel just stood there, and Blaine was staring at him and couldn't move, and then he started walking toward him, but the angel ran away. Blaine didn't notice that play had resumed, and he wasn't watching what he was doing, and I was dribbling the ball down the field and just kind of flattened him. Landed smack on top of him. And I guess I'd never noticed how beautiful his eyes were, but it was hard to miss when you're nose to nose with him, and so I asked him out. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“How…interesting,” Kurt replied weakly.

And then there was more talking, but Kurt couldn't take it in, because his head was swimming. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.

Blaine's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he scrutinized Kurt's face, then he asked, “Would you guys excuse us?” and everyone—including that little, trespassing twerp, James—left the room after issuing polite goodbyes. Blaine looked at Kurt and said, “Look, Kurt…” but Kurt interrupted him.

“Can you give me a minute, please, to collect my thoughts?”

Blaine made to stand, and Kurt shot out a hand, “No! Don't go anywhere. Just give me a second.”

Blaine smiled. “Sure. Take all the time you want. I'll be right here.”

As Blaine uttered that last sentence, Kurt instantly knew two things. First, it simply wasn't possible to relive your life. All those people who said, “If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing,” were lying, because, no matter how hard you try, you change everything. Second, this was Blaine, and Kurt could always talk to Blaine about anything. Even if Blaine didn't know Kurt yet in this particular lifetime, Kurt knew Blaine. He trusted Blaine, and he could trust him now.

Kurt made a decision, looked at Blaine, and smiled, “I need to tell you something—something very private. But, first, I need to show you my car.”