The first few days of having Rachel Berry live under the same roof were not quite what Kurt had expected. Back when New York was still in the works, they had had it all planned out. They'd live in a hole-in-the-wall place close to school, in cramped quarters that, despite the cramped factor, were impeccably decorated by Kurt himself, with little to no input from Rachel --as he had explained to her constantly, he couldn't trust the taste of someone who's fashion leaned towards sweaters with animals on the front. They would fight over who got to use the shower first in the morning, but otherwise life would be perfect. They would do vocal warm-ups together, diet and exercise together, trade off on cooking and shopping, and always be in the front row of each other's performances.

Even after the Blessed Event, the only change in plans was that they would find a bigger apartment, and Brittany could join them in their activities while she earned her GED, since of course they would want her there right away and not want to wait for her to repeat her senior year. Though Brittany had admitted that Kurt was much more capable of taking care of their daughter, it had never for even a moment crossed his mind to break apart their family, even over the great experience that New York was sure to be. But New York never happened, not after discovering that even if Brittany achieved a 4.0 her second senior year, her average GPA would still be too low for any conventional scholarships that any decent New York establishment might offer, and so the idea, the place, and the living with Rachel situation was scrapped, and he never discovered if any of their living plans were realistic.

Thus far, the only thing that coincided was fighting over shower use. Though Rachel was usually a morning person, she had apparently decided that, amongst all the other normal Rachel-esque things she was giving up, her six am wake-up call was top of the list. While Brittany was out the door before the sun rose, Rachel, who had taken up residence in Kurt's room while he slept with Brittany and Sunny, lounged in bed until nine, which was around the time Kurt usually shuffled, bleary-eyed, to the bathroom to do his morning moisturizing routine before his ten o'clock class. He hadn't given much thought to Rachel's behavior when she acted thus on Sunday; weekends were made for sleeping in, if you asked him, and she could take all the time she wanted in the shower, as long as she was ready to go to brunch at noon.

"I know it's dinnertime, but Sunday dinner doesn't sound quite as sophisticated as Sunday brunch, you know?"

When she repeated the same behavior on Monday morning, however, Kurt nearly threw a fit. He had hoped that, after Brittany's recovery that weekend, that he would be able to go to class stress-free, and confident in the health and well-being of his girls. He ended up more stressed than ever, though, when he found himself with fifteen minutes to get ready, and he ended up skipping his moisturizing routine altogether, and running out the door, feeling a mess, just as Brittany bounded back in, looking as fresh as a daisy and beautiful as ever.

He knew he looked out of sorts, and had garnered more than his fair share of surprised and worried looks from the few classmates he allowed himself to be friendly with, and he wondered how he would have handled New York for four years when he wanted to kill Rachel after only a few days. Of course, with Finn following her, their time together probably would have lessened, but still. After all these years, shouldn't she be less annoying than she had been in high school?

When he had brought the subject up in their
meeting, Quinn had only laughed and told him that he should be more flexible.

"Your friend is obviously going through a hard time right now, Kurt, and she needs all the love and support you can give her."

"I'll support her all right," he grumbled on Tuesday afternoon as he sat in the library and read through his notes for his chemistry class. After missing last week's lab, he had quite a bit of material to catch up on; they really did a lot in such a small period of time, and though still annoyed with her --Rachel had made them all tofu for supper the night before. Tofu!-- he had to admit he was also grateful, that she had offered to watch Sunny for awhile so he could go and study without interruption or worrying about her getting into trouble. As smart as she was, he was constantly reminded that she was still only three years old, and just as capable of hurting herself or swallowing something she shouldn't as any other child her age. And, if something did happen, Rachel would call. So he was thankful, grateful, whatever you wanted to call it, to Rachel, for finally giving him the chance to relax and just think about school and nothing else.

In theory, anyway. Kurt trusted Rachel with his life. Trusting her with his precious daughter was a different thing, entirely. It was only after she had yelled at him via text --this after he had sent fifteen messages himself, reminding her that Sunny was allergic to shellfish, or asking her to check that she didn't change clothes by herself and ruin the style he had set for her that day, or even just asking if the little girl had wondered where he was-- that he had managed to get some studying done. His phone never left his range of vision, however, and he sighed as he admitted that he wasn't progressing as much as he would have liked, especially considering the hour and fifteen minutes that he had been sitting in the library's designated study area.

"Maybe if you sang something, you'd study better?"

He went still a moment at the warm, teasing voice to his side, and then took a breath and smiled up at the young man standing next to him.

"Blaine. Hi. Are you studying, too?"

He found himself caught by how the green henley tee he wore brought out the ivy-green highlights in his hazel eyes. He could stare into them forever, he thought, and had to blink to focus on Blaine's response.

"Checking out a book, actually," he said and held up a blue hardcover with the title written in gold letters on the binding.

"Il teatro di rosa?" Kurt asked, raising a brow. "You speak Italian?"

"A little," he shrugged, and leaned against the table. Kurt gulped at the range of his lower half to Kurt's eyes, and he shook himself infetismally to try and dislodge the observation. "So, you should sing something," Blaine went on, and Kurt blinked.

"Um, what?"

"To study better. Some more of that Next to Normal show would be good," he said thoughtfully, fingers tracing his jawline as he pondered, and Kurt found himself jealous of those fingers. "Or you could always try Def Leppard again," he added with a grin, and Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"I can understand how, considering our previous meetings, you might think I sing all the time, but I really don't. Laundry is an exception, not the rule."

"Well, that's a shame. You've got a great voice, Kurt."

He couldn't help but flush at the compliment, but shook his head.

"I'm out of practice."

"Couldn't tell by me. What are you studying?"

Kurt grimaced, and replied, "Chemistry." Blaine winced, and slid away, and Kurt laughed, while simultaneously missing the closeness. "Yeah. It's not that I don't enjoy it, but I just can't concentrate today. I keep waiting for my phone to ring," he admitted, and then blinked as Blaine's expression closed off just the slightest bit.

"Brittany?"

His eyes went wide, and he remembered how stupid he had been.

"Ah, no, actually--" How was he supposed to do this? He fished around for the words, and then found himself blurting, "Would you like to come over to my room?"

He couldn't say which of them were more surprised at the question, but Kurt fixed his expression into as natural a one as possible, smiling encouragingly even while Blaine gaped at him.

"Uh, are you sure? I mean, I--"

"Absolutely," Kurt nodded, something telling him that if he let him see everything, all their problems would be solved. Or at least the one where Blaine obviously thought he was straight. And after that? Well, Brittany was always telling him to just relax and let things happen, so that's what he was going to do.

If Blaine said yes, that is.

"I'm not getting much done here anyway," Kurt continued, casually beginning to pack up his bag. "Besides, it'd be nice to talk to you under non-laundry-emergency circumstances."

Blaine laughed at that, his eyes flashing, and Kurt stilled before realizing that Blaine was saying 'yes.'

"Sounds great. I'll just go check this out," he raised the book again, "and meet you at the door."

"Great," Kurt managed and watched as Blaine slid off the table and walked over to the front desk.

And then he realized.

Blaine was coming over.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.