The year is 1860 and Blaine Anderson has left his family out on the east coast to come and tutor a young man in music. He is hesitating at the front gates looking up towards the Stick Anne style house that waits beyond a fair sized lawn and a small garden. Blaine suspects that there is a larger vegetable garden in the back. On the left side of the house there is a tower toped with a dome. The rest of the front of the two story house is filled with porch. It’s a very fine house, but that was what Blaine should have expected. After all, the Hummel family had the money to bring him out from the east coast to teach their son, Kurt, music. 

Blaine was nervous. He had come all this way, but what if Kurt and he didn’t get along? He was so far away from his family and he didn’t know anyone in Ohio. Swallowing down his fear, Blaine straightened and walked towards the Hummel home. He would make this work and show his father that he could make a living with his music. 

The door was answered by a dark skinned girl who couldn’t have been older than sixteen. She smiled though and held the door open for him.

“You must be Mr.Anderson.” The maid smiled and took one of Blaine’s bags him. 

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ll show you to your room.” 

Blaine followed the maid inside off of the veranda, through the vestibule, into the hall and up a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs, they took a left and a few feet more they made another left in a small bedroom. Much smaller than Blaine was used to, but he would make it work. He could be happy in this room. The windows at least made it bright. 

The maid left him there to put away his things, but she promised to be back with water he could clean up with and then she would bring him downstairs to meet the family. Blaine nodded, because he felt a little overwhelmed. He had been traveling for several days on end just to get here, and traveling always made him a little sick. But he supposed that it was only proper to go meet the people who would be working for and the boy he would be teaching. 

After Blaine had all of his clothes in the closet, the maid came back with a basin of water and some cloths for Blaine to scrub up with. She set them down on the desk and left without saying a word. 

Washed, changed, and waiting for the maid to come back to get him, Blaine looked at the room. On the wall furthest from the door, there was a door leading out onto the upper veranda. The desk looked out onto the side yard. 

“Mr.Anderson?” The maid asked from the doorway. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He whirled around. The maid had surprised him. 

“Dinner is ready then.” 

He followed her down the stairs and across the hall into the dining room. There was a large, oval table surrounded by eight high backed chairs. Four of the chairs were occupied. At the head of the table, a middle aged man who had lost most of his hair sat looking at Blaine as if he could tell just what kind of person Blaine was before he had even opened his mouth. The man must have been Burt Hummel, the man who had written him about teaching his son. To Mr.Hummel’s right sat a woman with warm brown hair and kind eyes. Obviously, Mrs.Hummel. On Mr.Hummel’s other side there sat a lanky young man. To the young man’s left, there sat another boy, who was shorter than his brother. 

‘Oh.’ Blaine thought. ‘He is quite lovely.’ His heart fluttered as the boy looked up with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

“You must be Mr.Anderson.” Mrs.Hummel smiled at him. “Please, sit down.” She gestured to the seat next to her. 

“Thank you.” Blaine smiled as he took the seat. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. Kurt helped with most of it.” The boy across from him blushed high on his cheeks. 

“He has done a good job.” Blaine smiled at Kurt, pleased that this was the boy he was tutoring, and not the lanky boy to Kurt’s right. 

“Thank you, Mr.Anderson.” 

The rest of dinner went on in a similar fashion the family and Blaine making polite small talk. Blaine was pleased to find that the food was good and he wouldn’t be missing the cooking from home when he got home sick. 

“Mr.Anderson, would you play for us now that you’ve been fed and watered?” Mrs. Hummel asked. 

“Of course.” He smiled at her. “I’m sure you want to know if I am as good as I said I am.”

“I am interested in your skill.” Kurt said from across the table, almost sounding doubtful. Blaine smiled, he would just have to prove him wrong. 

The group moved from dining room into the parlor. The Hummel family sat themselves on the furniture while Blaine sat himself at the piano. Stretching out his fingers, he tried to decide what he should play. Deciding on one of the songs he had learned from one of the first song books his mother had bought him. 

Blaine took a deep breath and started to play. He closed his eyes to bring up the music in his head. This was one of the first songs he had learned that was more difficult than the practice pieces his own piano teacher had drilled into him. 

“That was wonderful.” Mrs.Hummel breathed as Blaine let the final chord ring in the air. “Who was the composer?”

“Vivaldi.” Blaine twisted on the bench so he could see his audience. “He was a french composer.”

“It was well played.” Kurt smiled brightly. “I am glad I will have such a wonderful teacher.”

“I am glad to have such an eager student.” Blaine smiled back.

He played a few more pieces for the family before he was yawning.

Excusing himself from the parlor, Blaine went up to bed. It had been a very long day for him, so he left the Hummels downstairs to talk amongst themselves, knowing that his playing would most likely be their topic. 

The next morning, Blaine woke up to the sun shining in his window. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Blaine got out of bed and began to get ready for the day. There was a knock on his door just as he was slicking back his hair. 

“One moment.” Blaine called as he set his comb down on the desk and moved to open the door. Kurt was standing outside. “Can I help you?” 

“Carol asked me to come get you for breakfast.” Kurt looked at his shoes. “Mercedes is in the middle of cooking.”

“I will be right down.” Blaine smiled, oddly proud that he had made his beautiful student bashful. 

The breakfast table was quiet. There were a bits of small talk, but nothing of consequence. Finn, the lanky boy, was going to call on Ms. Rachel Berry that afternoon.  Mrs.Hummel commented how quickly Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman seemed to be moving. 

“Quinn is most likely with child.” Kurt said from where he was moving his breakfast around his plate. 

“Kurt” Mrs.Hummel gasped. “What a thing to say.”

“Quinn has never shown any interest in Noah before, and suddenly she is running down the aisle to him?” Kurt rolled his eyes and he handed Mercedes his plate,half of his breakfast still on it. “I will be in the parlor, Mr.Anderson, when you want to start my lesson.” Kurt said as he got up from the table.

“I am sorry, Mr.Anderson.” Mr.Hummel spoke from the head of the table. “Kurt gets into these moods.”

“I am sure it is nothing that I cannot handle.” Blaine sat in his chair for a moment before he stood. “Perhaps it is time for a music lesson.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Mrs.Hummel smiled as Blaine retreated into the parlor. 

Kurt was sitting at the piano when Blaine walked into the room. “Are you ready for your lesson?” He asked.

“I am sorry for my out burst.” Kurt said more to the piano than to Blaine. “I should not have said that about Quinn.”

“It’s quiet alright.” Blaine sat down next to Kurt on the piano bench. “Now, where shall we begin?”

“I know my scales.” Kurt pressed a key on the piano. “My mother taught me before she died.”

Blaine wanted to comment on the fact Kurt had just given him, but he had a feeling that the boy was never this open on purpose. “Show me which ones you remember.”

Kurt nodded and began to play. They spent the rest of the morning practicing scales. As the morning wore on, Kurt’s mood seemed to get better and better, by the time the two of them sat down to lunch he seemed almost content. Mrs.Hummel was visiting one her friends, Mr.Hummel was overseeing his shop, and Finn was visiting Ms.Berry. 

“I really am sorry about my mood this morning.” Kurt said as Mercedes set lunch down in front of them. “I do try not to be such a....” Kurt searched for the right word.

“I assure you, it was really no bother.” 

“Still, I have behaved horribly.”

“I must admit,” Blaine leaned closer to Kurt. “it is good to know I will have someone like my sister around. I was worried that I was going to miss her horribly.”

“You have a sister?” Kurt was eager to learn about his new tutor. If he was being honest with himself he found the man to be extremely attractive.

“I have two younger siblings. A sister, Ophelia, and a brother, Thomas.”

“Much younger?” 

“No, Ophelia is a year younger than me and Thomas is three years younger than me. How far apart are you and Finn?”

“Finn is six months older than me, and he never lets me forget it.” Kurt huffed.

“Six months?” Blaine realized that the question had slipped out and ducked his head. “I apologize, that was rude of me to ask. It is none of my business.” 

“Finn and I are step brothers. My mother died when I was small. My father and Carol were married a year ago.”

“You did mention that.” Blaine felt silly for having forgot. 

“I forget that you are new here and do not know the entire story. Everyone in this town knows and so I do not do a very good job of telling the story to strangers.”

“You do not have to tell me anything, Kurt. I am your piano tutor.” Blaine shrugged. 

“But it would be nice to be friends, would it not?” Kurt smiled. 

“Of course. It would be nice to have friends in town.”

“So,” Kurt said as he stood from the table and began to collect the dishes.

“Are we going to continue with scales or would you rather do something else?”

“We can continue on the piano if you’d like.” Blaine smiled at Kurt’s enthusiasm. Now he felt silly for fearing that he was going to get a bratty child who’s parents were forcing them to learn. 

Kurt smiled and hurried to go deposit the dishes in the kitchen. Blaine went into the parlor and sat down on the piano bench and opened the book of simple songs that were not very far off from the scales that Kurt had been playing all morning. When Kurt sat next to him on the bench, Blaine asked him to play the first song in the book. 

Kurt nodded, brushed his bangs from his eyes, and began. It was clumsy, but Kurt managed to get through it without too much trouble. The spent the next hour playing through the next five songs in the beginner’s book. When they had gone over them several time each, Blaine got off the bench and stretched up onto his toes. 

“I think we’ve done enough learning for one day.” He smiled down at Kurt. “But if you want to keep practicing those five songs and your scales, that is what we will be working on tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Kurt nodded. “I’ll work on them.” He was not going to say it in front of Blaine, but he was embarrassed about his playing. Even more after he had heard how beautifully Blaine had played after last night. Kurt sat on the bench and waited until he heard Blaine climb the stairs before he started working on the songs that Blaine had said that they would be working on tomorrow. He was going to be able to play them at least with minimal grace before tomorrow. Also, he hoped to be able practice a few other songs in the book so he would be able to impress Blaine the next day. 

As Kurt practiced his songs, Blaine sat down at the small desk in his room and pulled out his stationary. He could barely hear Kurt at the piano downstairs and he smiled as he started a letter to his family. His mother had told him when he left that she expected a letter every week so she knew that he was alright. 

The next day, Blaine was impressed with the progress Kurt had made. By the end of the day, he could respectable play one of the five little exercises from the book and play most of his scales. Blaine was proud of his student. 

By the end of the month, Kurt was steadily making his way through the book of simple songs and Blaine was starting him on a simple hymn. Kurt stumbled all the way through it. Smiling, Blaine marked out a couple of the easier sections for Kurt to work on.

As the two men sat at the piano bench, they also became friends. Every day Blaine became more and more impressed with the young man. And as he became more and more impressed with the young man, he fell more and more in love with Kurt. Which became more and more difficult not to act on. It would have been so easy to sit just a little closer, have their hands brush over the keys, or have their knees knock, but Blaine knew that this could quickly wear out his welcome in the Hummel house. 

As Kurt sat at the piano downstairs working out some of the phrases in the hymn they were working on, Blaine sat at the little desk in his room and wrote a letter to his sister. 

Ophelia, 

I am glad to report that I have safely arrived in Lima, Ohio. The Hummels are all very nice, but I have already told you all that in my letter to Mama and father, which I am sure Mama will insist on reading to all of you around the dinner table. I am not writing to you to tell you the niceties of my first days here. I am writing to you tell you about Kurt. He is the young man I am teaching to play piano. He is lovely. Actually, he reminds me of you a little bit, which is a relief because the one thing that worried me the most about moving to Ohio was that I was going to miss you terribly. Not that I am not going to miss you, because you are still my best friend.

I had to say something about Kurt to someone, and you are the only one who knows. The only one who can know. If I do not say anything, even if it is just writing it down in a letter, I am afraid my mouth will run away with me. We do spend a lot of time alone together during the day, sitting close to each other on the piano bench and talking. Once Kurt starts talking about something he is passionate about it takes him over. His fingers are perfect for playing the piano, long and delicate, but they still clearly belong to a man. Sometimes I wonder how it would feel to have them twined in between mine. I know it is silly to wonder, but I cannot help it. The way he dresses does not help. I think that he wears all of his clothes as if he were trying to wear a second skin. His clothes make me think of things much more primal thoughts that holding his hands. I believe that he is more interested in fashion than Mama is. Sometimes he sits in the den and looks Godey’s Lady’s Book, though he tries to hide it. 

I am afraid to write too much of how I feel and I fear that I have said too much. Not that I am afraid that you will think that you would ever tell anyone, but I know Mama does not always look at the name on the letter or does not care that it clearly says your name on the letter. In her mind, there is nothing that I would want to tell you that she could not know as well. But this is such a thing, not that she would ever even consider such a thing, but I would not want her and Father to think that I am a blight on the Anderson name. 

This is the part of the letter where I am going to beg you to write me more often because I need something to keep my thoughts from Kurt Hummel and writing sonnets about his eyes. See this sorry state I am in? So please, dear sister, take time from your busy social life and write your pitiful brother. I should also apologize for how terribly written this letter is, so I apologize. 

Love, 

Blaine.