When Blaine woke up the next morning, the sky was tinted a light bluish color, and it wasn't quite bright yet. It only took him a few hazy moments to remember where he was, this time. Sometime in the middle of the night he must have turned over because he was facing Kurt now. His nose brushed against Kurt's chest as his eyes fluttered open. Kurt's arms weren't around him anymore.

It felt nice to be lying like that. Right, even. He had never woken up next to a guy before, not like this. And they fit together so perfectly, and oh, okay, their feet were touching underneath the blanket that had somehow migrated down the couch. He was tempted to shut his eyes and go back to sleep, but he knew that he must have overstepped in so many ways already. This wasn't right, he shouldn't be doing this, sleeping like this with someone he barely knew. He was so close to Kurt now, so close. He could feel his heart beating, could hear him breathing, slowly and steadily, in his sleep. He moved to sit up, slowly, so as not to wake Kurt. He looked at the sleeping boy for a minute, noticing the little smile that he wore in his sleep and the peaceful look on his face. He slowly set a foot on he floor before standing up completely. Blaine picked up the blanket that was tangled at their feet, covering Kurt with it. The other boy stirred slightly, and his fingers curled against the empty space on the couch next to him, but he didn't wake up.

It was still early. Blaine looked around for a clock, but the one above the TV was blinking an obviously wrong time of 12:07 – oh, yeah, the power went out last night. His eyes found the candles that were no longer lit (Burt blew them out last night).

“Cold hands...”

“Yours too.”

Blaine pulled out his cell phone. It was 7:30 in the morning. He usually wasn't up until way, way later. It was cold, too, without his personal space heater. He looked down at the boy asleep on his couch and wondered if he should go. He knew that Kurt's dad would probably be awake soon, and that wasn't something he really felt like dealing with. He didn't want to wake the other boy up and he didn't want to be there when his dad woke up... He could call someone to pick him up, or he could catch the bus, because his friends probably weren't awake yet and his parents would be at work by now. He glanced around for something to write with, stumbling around quietly until he found a pen and a notepad in the kitchen. He scribbled a quick note.

Kurt,

Took the bus home. Sorry for disappearing, but I figured I should go. Thanks for everything – I owe you free coffee for the rest of your life. ;-)

-Blaine

He toyed with the idea of adding an xo, but decided against it. Too much, too soon. But what happens now? He didn't know. He didn't know if they were ever going to talk about last night again, or if it even meant anything to the boy sleeping soundly on the couch across the room. Was it even that big of a deal? He'd just have to wait and see, he guessed, and he stuck the note on the side of the TV and took one more look at Kurt. He looked... adorable, smiling in his sleep like that. Blaine would never have been able to wake him if he wanted to.

“Bye, Kurt,” he whispered, and he shut the door as quietly as he could when he left. He caught the 8:00 bus.

When Kurt woke up, Blaine was gone. It was the first thing he noticed, as he reached across the couch in a sleepy trance. Then his eyes opened and he was noticing so many things, like how unnaturally bright the light was after the storm last night, and how his pillow smelled like Blaine. He breathed it in for a second, for two; and he smiled. But then the panic began to settle in his stomach.

He hates me. He hates me he hates me he hates me. He left, last night was weird, what was I thinking oh my god.

Kurt stood up from the couch, wrapping the thin blanket around his shoulders (and wow, the blanket sort of smelled like Blaine too). He checked the kitchen and the foyer and the bathroom, but they were all empty and he really doubted that Blaine would be anywhere else in the house, which meant that he had definitely left. Kurt walked back to the living room, and it was only then that he found the note stuck haphazardly to the TV, written in the handwriting that Kurt was beginning to recognize. He read it, and then he read it again, and then he folded it into a perfect square and tucked it into his pocket.

He didn't really know what to think. So Blaine didn't hate him, then, and a winky face was always a good sign, right? It was the 'I figured I should leave' part that threw him off. He wished that he could call Blaine, at least – but he didn't have his number. How did he still not have his number?

Or, wait- he did. Blaine called himself from Kurt's phone last night, right? So he should have his number. But would it be weird to call him? Was this whole thing weird? Blaine had left, after all. People don't leave when things aren't weird...

Kurt made his way to his room with his phone in his hand and the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He stared at the ten digits on his screen for what felt like an eternity before he hit the call button, sprawling out on his stomach on his bed.

It rang twice before Blaine picked up. “Hello?”

“Blaine?” Kurt asked, realizing that the other boy wouldn't recognize his number. “It's Kurt.”

“Oh, Kurt, hi!” Blaine greeted him happily, and relief washed over the older boy. At the very least, he could cross 'he hates me' off of his list of things to worry about.

“Sorry I left this morning,” Blaine said quickly. “I just figured I should leave before your dad woke up, you know?”

“Oh.” Oh. Oh. So that would explain that. Kurt exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I understand,” he added after a moment, and then there was the biggest awkward silence ever, at least in Kurt's opinion.

Blaine broke it first.

“So, um... thanks again for last night. For letting me sleep-” so close to you “-over and everything.”

“It was no problem, Blaine,” Kurt reassured him. “It was... nice. And I would have worried, if I had sent you out in that thing. I mean, that's not something I want on my conscience.”

Blaine laughed, and Kurt could hear that little smile of his through the phone. “I like-” singing with you, dancing with you, sleeping next to you, making you smile “-hanging out with you, Kurt.”

“Me too,” Kurt said, too quickly.

“So, um... I was wondering.” Blaine wiped his sweaty palms on his bedspread that he was currently sitting cross-legged on. God, they had been talking for like, three minutes and he was already saying too much too soon.

“Yeah?” Came the voice from the other line.

It was too late to go back now.

“Would you, maybe... want to go to Breadstix with me tomorrow night?”

There. It was out. He said it, he said it he said it he said it. He just asked Kurt Elizabeth Hummel out. On a date!

Kurt's heart was pounding in his chest, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open just the slightest bit. Did that really just happen? Was Blaine, barista Blaine with the golden eyes and the fantastic voice and the strong arms and the perfect everything, really asking him out... on an actual date?

“Kurt? Are you there...?” Came a nervous voice from the other line, and Kurt realized that, holy shit, this was real and also that he needed to say something before Blaine got the wrong idea.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I would love to.”

A grin broke out on Blaine's face, and miles and miles and miles away, Kurt grinned too.

“Awesome. I can pick you up... or you could meet me there, if you want.”

Kurt paused, thinking for a moment.

“You live in Westerville,” he pointed out.

“And?”

“So you can just meet me there.”

“Okay, if that's what you want.”

“Okay.”

“Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“I can't wait.”

“Neither can I.”

“Goodbye, Kurt.”

“Goodbye, Blaine.”