“Well, I’m sorry for that, too.”

Being at Dalton was different. Not better or worse, just something he’d have to get used to. After his first week, he chopped off his hair and slicked it down with gel. He buried himself in his books, trying to catch up in his classes, and worked on building up a better vocabulary. Blaine’s family was well-off, there was no doubt, but Blaine had never been exposed to the “finer things” the way the kids at Dalton had. Still, with a lot of hard work, Blaine was blending in just fine. And with a bit more effort, he wound up on top: the lead singer of the Warblers, loved by many of the boys, and a real star in his classes. By the end of the semester, the Sadie Hawkins dance seemed a distant memory. Here, being gay wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t special, either. It just was. Blaine settled into a rhythm of charming smiles and big words. Nobody ever saw the scars – physical or mental. And he built a new kind of happy.

And then Kurt burst into his life.

“How are you liking it?” Blaine asked him as they were walking down the halls to class one day.

“It’s just a different energy,” he said. “Not better or worse, just something I have to get used to.”

Blaine tripped. “Yeah. I, uh, know what you mean.”

Kurt smiled a familiar smile. It was one that deflected and shielded, one that Blaine knew all too well. Seeing it, Blaine had a startling thought: he wondered if he and Kurt would ever get to the point where they weren’t guarded around each other. And as time passed, he didn’t wonder it anymore; rather, he hoped it. He hoped it very much.

The first time they kissed, Blaine had laid out all the schmaltz. He spent his entire lunch period in the bathroom, practicing what he’d say over and over again at his reflection in the mirror. “You move me, Kurt,” he repeated. Kurt wanted romance, and Blaine would give it to him, even if it felt impossible.

The second time they kissed was in the back of a movie theater, and it was all Kurt. “I really want this,” he whispered against Blaine’s lips.

“Me, too,” said Blaine, putting a hand on Kurt’s cheek.

“You don’t think this is all hormones? There’s something here?” asked Kurt.

Blaine laughed. It was a very Kurt question. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he said.

Kurt nodded. “Me, too.”

“Mom,” Blaine called out, opening his front door. “Are you here?”

Kathleen came trotting down the stairs. “Hi, honey,” she said, offering him one of her smiles.

Blaine pushed the door the rest of the way open and fell into his mother’s arms. Boarding at Dalton had been a mutual decision between the entire
Anderson family, and while it made life between Blaine and Gordon much more tolerable, it was hard for Blaine to be away from his mom. “I came home for the weekend. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she said, hesitantly.

Blaine was confused, until he remembered that Kurt was right behind him, and he and his mom were staring at each other with awkward smiles. “Oh, Mom, sorry,” he said, pulling away from her and straightening his uniform jacket. “This is – um, this is Kurt.”

Kathleen noticed the weight in his words. “Ah,” she said, smiling again. “Very nice to meet you, Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Anderson,” said Kurt, nervously reaching out a hand to shake hers.

“I really wanted you to meet him,” Blaine said, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

Kathleen kissed Blaine’s forehead. “Will you be staying for dinner, then?” she asked Kurt.

Kurt looked at Blaine sharply.

“Um,” Blaine started, “Is Dad going to be here?” he whispered.

Kathleen’s eyes turned sad. “Let me see if I can get his secretary to stall him at the office.”

Kurt blushed.

Blaine held his mom’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

Kurt did meet Gordon eventually. “Who are you?” he barked at Kurt, who was sitting on the couch in the Anderson living room. He was waiting for Blaine to come back from the bathroom, and the movie they had been watching was paused on the TV in front of him.

“Oh, I’m – I’m Kurt,” he said, standing up immediately and trying not to seem too visibly afraid of him.

“And what are you doing in my house?”

“Dad,” Blaine said, appearing in the doorway behind Gordon. “Leave him alone.”

“I was just asking who he was,” said Gordon, who, upon seeing Blaine, busied himself with his Blackberry. “Now I know his name is Kurt, and that he’s probably not a burglar if you know him. So I’ll leave now.” He walked past Blaine and towards his study, not bothering to make eye contact.

“Kurt is my boyfriend,” Blaine called after him.

Gordon turned around and stared at Blaine.

Blaine’s knees felt a little weak, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Just – just thought you might want to know that,” he said.

Gordon stared a moment longer, then looked back at his Blackberry and went into his study, slamming the door behind him.
Blaine looked at Kurt, who was sitting again in the corner of the couch. “I’m – I’m sorry that you met him like that.”

Kurt shrugged. “Nice guy,” he dead-panned.

Blaine let out a laugh and walked to the couch, falling into the cushions and wrapping Kurt up in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear.

Kurt snapped his head towards Blaine and looked quickly back and forth between his right eye and his left eye. “I – really?” he breathed.

Blaine was suddenly horrified at how quickly he had thrown the term around. Not that it wasn’t true; he’d been thinking it for quite some time, but he also knew that Kurt wanted to move slowly. “I – I mean, I’m –”

“I love you, too,” said Kurt. The two of them stared at each other a little longer, and then kissed – soft, but passionate.

“Great,” said Blaine, giggling. “Awesome.”

Kurt and Blaine stayed together for a year. For that year, they were both happy in a way they didn’t believe was possible anymore. They loved each other and rebuilt their definition of trust. But Blaine graduated, and Kurt had another year. The distance between New York and Ohio proved too great. “I just don’t know if I can do this,” Kurt whispered into the phone one night. He was in his bed, the phone anchored between his face and his pillow beneath him. His hands were busy catching tears on his cheeks.

Blaine excused himself from his roommate’s presence and walked out of his dorm room into the hallway. He started to make some speech about how it was worth it, that they could do this, but he had to admit that it didn’t feel right. He sighed. “I’m so sorry, Kurt,” he said instead.

“No, I’m sorry,” said Kurt. “This is all my fault.”

“Stop,” Blaine said. ”It’s both of us.”

Kurt whimpered into the phone. “It is?”

“Look,” said Blaine, “I still love you. I’m pretty sure I – well. Yeah.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” said Kurt.

There was a long pause. “So, we part as friends?” Blaine finally asked. It felt like the wrong thing to say, but so did everything else.

“Yeah. Yes. Okay.”

“Okay.”

They both stayed on the line, listening to the other breathing.

“Now what?” Kurt asked.

“I guess – well, bye?” said Blaine.

Kurt whimpered again. “Right. Okay.” He sniffled. “I love you,” he whispered.

Blaine wanted to say it back, but he barely choked out a “Good bye,” before he dropped his phone and sank down onto the floor, hiding his face in his hands.

“I was wrong to treat you the way I did,” said Gordon. “It shouldn’t matter. Who you love, I mean. That shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does?” asked Blaine, feeling like a child again.

Gordon sighed, then nodded. “It does.”

Blaine’s heart sank. “Okay. Is that all?”

“No,” said Gordon. “That’s not all.”

Kurt knew he would move to New York once he had graduated. That was part of why breaking up with Blaine was so difficult. For quite a while, Kurt had convinced himself not to break it off with him purely because they’d be in the same city in a year. Just a year, he told himself. You can make it one year. But what he hadn’t expected was feeling so sad all the time. There was no relief from it. Eventually, he had to concede that his relationship was making him unhappy more often than it made him happy. Best to move on, he thought. And while parting as friends seemed the best option, both boys quickly learned that talking to each other only made things worse. It took some major adjustments, but Kurt learned to live without talking to Blaine every day – and eventually, at all.

But that didn’t change Kurt’s intentions to go to New York. While he had applied to several schools, there was only one he really wanted to get into. “You know, kiddo,” Burt said at dinner one night, “I don’t know much about this college thing, and I definitely don’t know too much about New York, but I’m pretty sure that Columbia’s no easy joint to get into.”

“I know that,” said Kurt calmly, taking a bite of his salad.

“Okay. I’m just sayin’.”

“What, exactly, are you saying?” asked Kurt.

Burt sighed. “I don’t wanna see you get all heartbroken. We already did that once this year. Once was enough.”

Kurt smiled. “I’ll handle it. If that’s the case.”

Luckily, it wasn’t.

From: Kurt Hummel < khummel@gmail.com >
To: Blaine Anderson < ba1749@columbia.edu >
Subject: Guess What?
I’m coming to your school next year. In case it’s of interest.
-Kurt

From: Blaine Anderson < ba1749@columbia.edu >
To: Kurt Hummel < khummel@gmail.com >
Subject: Re: Guess What?
Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me you were applying?
This was very much of interest. Maybe we could see each other when I come home? No pressure.
-Blaine

From: Kurt Hummel < khummel@gmail.com >
To: Blaine Anderson < ba1749@columbia.edu >
Subject: Re: Re: Guess What?
I suppose if we’ll be on the same campus next year, we should get used to seeing each other again, right? Call me some time this summer. No pressure on you, either.
:)
-Kurt

Blaine got a summer gig singing at a restaurant in Westerville. It kept him fairly busy. He’d hover over Kurt’s name in his cellphone contacts regularly, but he figured there was always tomorrow. That lasted about two months.

The first week of August, Blaine finally called Kurt. He was clutching the phone in his sweaty hand, trying not to panic.

“Hello?” Kurt answered.

“Hey,” Blaine sighed, caught off guard by how relaxed he felt upon hearing Kurt’s voice again. “It’s been a while.”

“Nine months, to be precise.”

Blaine laughed. “Who’s counting?”

Kurt hummed innocently.

“So, coffee, maybe? Catch up?”

“I’d like that,” said Kurt. Blaine could practically hear his smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

“Perfect.”

The next day, the boys met at The Lima Bean, their old hangout. Blaine walked through the door to find Kurt already perched on a chair at their usual table. It felt unsettlingly familiar, as if they hadn’t been broken up for nine months. As if they had been talking every day. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else,” Blaine said through a smirk as he settled down in the chair across from Kurt, setting his shoulder bag down next to him.

Kurt smiled. “College may have changed you, but I’ve still been here. I’m happy to report that I’m still my punctual, obsessive self.”

Blaine nodded. “Medium drip, then?”

“Iced, please. It’s way too hot.”

“I’ll get yours iced. I’ll stick to my usual.”

“Really? Why not get ice?”

“Why get it?”

“Well, how about a Frappuccino or something? It’s summer. It’s Ohio in the summer.”

“I always just get coffee. Engrained in my head or something.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “I’m trying to decide if it’s a good or a bad thing that we’re debating about coffee this casually.”

Blaine’s smile faded just a bit. It hit him how much he missed Kurt. “I’ll go get our drinks, then.”

A few moments later, Blaine returned with two cups, one steaming, the other sweating. He placed them on the table and settled down in his seat once more. Kurt’s chin rested in his hand, his big eyes staring back at Blaine in a once again unsettlingly familiar way. Blaine felt a bit lost looking back at him, so he focused on pouring a packet of sugar into his cup. “Oh,” he said as the last grain of sugar dissolved into the liquid. “I almost forgot.” He disappeared under the table to rifle through his bag. When he resurfaced, he was holding a t-shirt up for Kurt to examine. “I got this for you before I came home.”

Kurt smiled and took the blue Columbia t-shirt from him. “Thanks,” he said softly. “That was really sweet of you.”

“I know you won’t wear it. But – well, welcome to Columbia.”

“Do you like it there?” asked Kurt, folding the shirt and placing it gently in his own bag.

Blaine nodded. “So will you.”

“I certainly hope so. It’s costing me a fortune, even with the financial aid and scholarships.”

Blaine sort of smiled, not sure what to say. He took a sip of his coffee.

“Blaine?” said Kurt.

He looked back up. “Yeah?” he replied, just a bit more vulnerable than he preferred.

“Can I – I just want to know how this feels for you.”

Blaine tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Kurt said, taking a sip of his own coffee before continuing. “It’s just that we haven’t spoken in so long. I’m just – okay. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically, shaking out his nerves. “How have you been? How’s that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying to Columbia?” Blaine asked, as if he hadn’t heard Kurt talk at all.

Kurt blushed. “Honestly?”

Blaine shrugged. “We’ve always been honest with each other.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was applying there because of you.”

Blaine took another sip of his coffee.

“And I didn’t. For the record.”

“Of course not,” Blaine scoffed, but he had to admit the thought had crossed his mind.

“Actually, since I’m being completely honest, I almost didn’t apply because of you.”

Blaine bit his lip. “Yeah.”

“But I realized that that was stupid. I mean, I could’ve just gone and not told you I was there. We might not have ever run into each other.”

“It’s not that big,” Blaine said. “I mean, take the student union, it’s – “

“Not the point,” Kurt interrupted, leaning in a little closer. “I felt like I should tell you because I miss you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. And, frankly, it’ll be nice to have a friend around if I’m hopelessly lost or don’t know what professors are good.”

Blaine smiled weakly. “I miss you, too.” Instinctually, he reached out and grabbed Kurt’s hand. It was soft and warm, despite the fact that it had been holding a cup of iced coffee. Realizing how this could come across, though, he pulled back. “I’m – sorry, I shouldn’t have – “

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, reaching out and taking Blaine’s hand back in his. He squeezed it once, then let go. “I mean, only if it’s okay with you.”

Blaine looked at their hands on the table. He didn’t know if this was a good idea. He couldn’t manage to think clearly; all he knew was that it felt overwhelmingly right. He slid his hand over to Kurt’s and laced their fingers together. “Okay, then.”

They chatted aimlessly for a minute or two.

“Kurt,” Blaine said at a lull in their dialogue, “I want us to be okay.”

Kurt nodded. “We are. Aren’t we?”

“Yeah, of course. I just mean that – these past nine months were great because of school and this job I got, but I don’t think I realized how much I missed you until right now.”

Kurt nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, trying to stay neutral.

“We can take it slow,” said Blaine. “We don’t have to jump right back in. But I – if you’re game, I’d like to try again.”

“Okay,” he repeated.

“Okay?” said Blaine.

Kurt paused for a moment. “I didn’t want it to end. Before, I mean,” said Kurt. “It just – it had to.”

“I know. Really, I do.”

They each sipped their coffees.

“Why did you take so long to call?” asked Kurt.

Blaine chuckled. “I was scared of you. Just a little. Still am.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re pretty terrifying,” said Blaine. “I’m not kidding.”

Kurt winked, and squeezed Blaine’s hand again. “All part of my technique.”

“Have you used it on anyone else?” asked Blaine tentatively.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

Blaine crossed his legs. “I mean, 9 months is a long time. To be alone.”

“Okay,” said Kurt.

Blaine sighed, hating that word. “Are you seeing anyone else? Or did you?”

“Did you?”

“I asked first.”

“Who would I see?” asked Kurt. “Karofsky?”

Blaine frowned.

“I’m kidding, Blaine,” he said, pulling his hand away.

Blaine grabbed it back. “Sorry, sorry.”

“So? Did you?” asked Kurt, his inquisitive eyebrow perfectly arched.

Blaine looked down at the table. “Just a couple of dates.”

Kurt’s features fell.

“They were total duds. I was just lonely.”

“Did you – do anything?”

“Just some kissing. Nothing else.”

Kurt nodded. “It’s not really my business anyway. We were broken up.”

Blaine leaned forward at the use of the past tense. “And what are we now?” he asked, his stomach in knots.

Kurt offered a small smile. “Getting to know each other after nine months apart.”

Blaine uncrossed his legs. “Right.”

“But,” Kurt said finally, “if you’re free tomorrow night, I know this great restaurant that opened up since you left.”

“Like a – a date?”

“Yes. A date.”

Blaine smiled. “Sounds great.”

“Where are you going?” Gordon called out to Blaine.

Blaine had been running to the front door, but stopped at the gruffness of his father’s voice. “Out,” he said, not daring to turn around and look at him.

“Out where?”

“With Kurt,” he said, swallowing thickly after the words left his mouth.

Gordon grunted and walked away. At least, Blaine thought, his dad had bothered to remember who Kurt was.