“The French department, right?” interrupted Blaine. The two of them were studying in his room, Blaine sitting at his desk while Kurt and his books were sprawled across the bed. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

Kurt tilted his head. “Okay. I just don’t want you to feel left out.”

“Too late,” Blaine grumbled into his book.

“What?” said Kurt.

Blaine clenched his jaw to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I said I’m late.” He stood up and started shuffling his papers into some kind of order to leave the room. The only problem: he wasn’t late for anything.

“I thought you said you were free all day.”

Blaine snapped a book shut dramatically and grabbed a few other things he needed for his various assignments. “I have plans with Ashley. I said I’d work with her on this – um, thing. I just forgot, I guess. Until now.” Blaine met Ashley in one of his core science classes. She was a short girl with glasses who always had a shy look on her face. She helped him understand how to balance chemical equations one time – at least well enough to pass a couple of quizzes. One Saturday night when Kurt had to prepare an oral presentation with Chase, Blaine called her to see if she was interested in working on an assignment. And from then on, the two of them seemed to form an awkward friendship of sorts that usually revolved around Ashley’s zeal for Chemistry assignments and readings. And while he definitely didn’t have plans with her that day, he needed to get away and figured Kurt would believe him.

“So cancel them. We haven’t seen each other all that much.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” snapped Blaine.

“Calm down,” said Kurt, sliding off the bed to stand up. “It wasn’t an attack. We’ve both been busy.”

“No, you’ve been busy,” he scowled. He stared at Kurt, who was quite stunned, and then looked down at his feet, half-regretting his outburst, but not enough to apologize or take it back. “Look, you can stay here and work if you want, but I’m going to find Ashley.” While saying this, he was racking his brain for a place to go where Kurt wouldn’t find him alone.

“Why are you so pissed?” asked Kurt, his tone uncharacteristically hollow.

Blaine shoved his things into a backpack and pulled open his door. “I’ll see you later.”

Things didn’t get much better as the semester wore on. Blaine spent more evenings alone with his books or with Ashley than with Kurt, who always seemed to have one more presentation to prepare, or one more draft of a paper that was extremely important to go over. Blaine did his best to just let it go, but there were plenty more incidents like the one in his room, and to say he was on edge most of the time would be an understatement. Ashley seemed to be the only person who never judged him for it, who would sit there and listen to him ranting for hours. And while usually Blaine initiated their hangouts – or study sessions, or therapy hours, or whatever they were, exactly – one Thursday night, he was surprised when Ashley called and dragged him out to a bar.

“This isn’t usually our scene,” said Blaine, feeling very self-conscious. He wasn’t quite 21 yet.

“Relax,” she said. “They don’t card here.” Despite her shy bookishness, Blaine learned Ashley was very fun when it came to drinking. Before he knew it, he was relaxed, and even enjoying himself. “So,” she said, “are you going to tell me?”

Blaine, who was nursing his fourth beer, focused as hard as he could through his buzz. “Tell you what?”

“About how you and Kurt broke up,” she said gently.

“What? We didn’t. At least – wait, what?”

“You didn’t?”

Blaine rubbed his eyes, then took another drink. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m sorry, I saw Kurt with some other guy a couple of times, and I—well.”

Blaine flung a lithe hand towards Ashley, giving her an awkward pat on the forearm. “Oh, no, that’s his study partner, Chase. They’re kind of like you and me. Always working really hard.”

“I don’t think they’re like you and me.” Ashley ducked into her drink, blushing.

“What do you mean?” asked Blaine.

“No, never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. I – well, maybe I’m wrong.”

Blaine’s stomach flipped, and he felt as though he might be sick. “What?”

She traced lines in the condensation on her glass, stalling.

“Ashley, you’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I saw them together,” she finally said. “Like – you know. Together.”

Blaine stared at her, suddenly feeling very warm. He downed the rest of his beer. “No.”

Ashley took Blaine’s hand and squeezed it, her eyes shining with concern. He would’ve been flattered that she cared so much, but he was too busy trying not to scream or break down crying. Or both.

“What exactly did you see?” he asked.

Ashley blushed again. “They were kissing.”

“Where?”

“Outside Lerner.”

“When?”

“Yesterday. That’s why I dragged you out tonight. I thought you needed some company.”

Blaine stared blankly at the space in front of him. “I have to go,” he said. He threw his coat on and walked out of the bar.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said into the phone. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Yes it did,” said Blaine. He was back in his single, biting his lip, trying not to cry. He had waited long enough for the beer to wear off before he called, but he still felt a little hazy, which only magnified every bit of hurt he was feeling. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

“Fine,” whispered Kurt. “It meant something. But I just needed to get it out of my system. And I did. Can I come see you? We can talk about this.”

“I just can’t believe you’d do that,” said Blaine.

“Let me come over. This will be better in person.”

“No. Just – leave me alone.”

“Blaine, don’t do this – “

“Do what? Break up with you?”

Kurt was silent.

“You cheated on me,” said Blaine. “I should break up with you.”

“It was one kiss.”

“No it wasn’t. Stop.”

“Blaine, it was –“

“It’s been like this all semester, Kurt. You’re constantly blowing me off for him. And, frankly, if it lasted long enough for Ashley to see you in action, there’s no way that last night was just one kiss,” he said, raising his voice louder than he wanted to.

“I was pissed, okay? You’ve been so touchy lately. I just thought–“

“What, you thought you’d expedite our – our – impending doom, or something like that? Instead of talking to me about it?”

“I tried to talk to you –“

“When?”

Kurt was silent again.

Blaine’s head was pounding. “I’m gonna go.” He hung up the phone. And even though Kurt called him back 14 times that night and sent him countless text messages for the next few days, Blaine didn’t give in to him. They didn’t speak for three weeks.

“How’re things going with Kurt?” asked Kathleen over the phone one night.

“Oh. They’re not, really,” said Blaine, partly embarrassed, partly sad, curled up on his bed.

“Oh,” said Kathleen. “That’s a shame. Are you all right?”

“Fine. How’s Dad?” asked Blaine.

“You know. Same old.”

“Mom?”

“What’s up?”

“Did Dad know officially? About Kurt and me being together. Now, I mean, not just high school.”

“I had told him, yes,” she said. “I hope that’s all right.”

“Yeah,” said Blaine, who was now picking at a loose thread on his comforter. “Could you maybe not tell him we broke up? Just – well, don’t tell him?”

Kathleen paused, trying to understand her son’s motives. “I won’t,” she said anyway. She supposed it didn’t matter why he asked her; if that’s what he wanted, that’s what she’d do.

To: Blaine Anderson < ba1749@columbia.edu >
From: Kurt Hummel < kh902@columbia.edu >

Subject: I’m Sorry

Blaine,

I know we’re not speaking, but I figure if I send you this, I’ve spoken my peace whether you answer me or not.

I feel incredibly shitty about this whole situation. I’m so, so sorry. I got carried away in how nice Chase was to me. (You know I have a compulsive need to be noticed.) You deserve much better.
I think I panicked this semester. You’re the only guy I’ve ever dated, the only guy I’ve ever kissed, the only guy I’ve ever been with. Something short-circuited in my head and told me that I had to have been missing out on something more. And then when you got so snippy with me every time I brought up Chase, I got defensive and retaliated (in the most stupid way possible). I was too selfish and immature to notice what my friendship with him was doing to you. Hindsight’s a bitch…looking back, I don’t even recognize the person who treated you so badly these past few months.

I want to be really honest with you, because we’re always honest with each other. I saw Chase a couple of times this past month or so of us not talking, but we didn’t really do anything other than have dinner. I can’t stop thinking about you – not just about how horrible I feel for the way I acted, but Chase just isn’t you. He doesn’t listen to me the way you do, doesn’t respect me the way you do. What you and I had was more than just a relationship; it was like a coalition. Or a team. Or something equally cheesy and symbolic.

What I’m trying to say is that I want to try to fix this, if you’ll let me.
That said, I know that if you had done this to me, I might not have given you the second chance that I’m asking for. I respect that reality. But if that’s the case, I really don’t want this to be the way we end things. We’ve been through so much together, most of which was way more mature and special than what I did with Chase, and I would so appreciate the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am in person. I’ll understand if, after that, you want nothing more to do with me, but please let me do this?

I really love you, Blaine. I’m a complete idiot.

-Kurt

To: Kurt Hummel < kh902@columbia.edu >
From: Blaine Anderson < ba1749@columbia.edu >

Subject: Re: I’m Sorry

Kurt,

You’re right; you are an idiot.

But, fine. Coffee tonight?

-Blaine

Blaine let Kurt grovel that night. If Blaine was being honest, he had been convinced to forgive Kurt after the first few minutes. But he let it go on for almost a half hour, taking in Kurt’s words not only as an apology, but as personal affirmation: He was worth this. He was worth fighting for. These concepts had become quite foreign in the past month. He knew it was selfish, but he needed Kurt to buy him coffee and a chocolate chip cookie and make a big speech about how Blaine deserved so much more than him. And once he’d had enough, ever the gentleman, Blaine took Kurt’s hand and smiled cautiously. “I forgive you. I’m not saying that I’ll forget any time soon, but I forgive you.”

“Really?” Kurt said, his tired eyes opening wider.

“I don’t know what it is, Kurt,” said Blaine, looking him straight in the eye. “But I sort of can’t stop wanting to be with you.”

Kurt sighed in relief. “That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I thought you liked romance.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and kissed it. “I love it.”

“Do you think couples can actually make things work together?” Blaine asked Kurt that night, the two of them tangled together in Blaine’s bed.

“Is that a quote from a movie?” Kurt asked skeptically.

“What? I’m serious.”

Kurt took a moment to think. “I do,” he said quietly.

“And be happy?”

Kurt nodded slowly. “I think if my mom were alive, she and my dad would still be happily married. Why do you ask?”

Blaine curled into Kurt's side, draping an arm around him and clinging tight. “I wanna stay with you,” he whispered, and blushed immediately. He was happy the lights were off.

Kurt kissed Blaine’s temple. “I’d like that, too.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up again.”

“Me either,” said Kurt, chewing his lip. “Though, to be fair, you haven’t really messed up yet.”

“I know you’re the one who – did things, but I could’ve handled it better.”

“I guess,” said Kurt quietly. “Whatever. It’s in the past.”

The boys shared a gentle kiss. “I love you,” said Blaine.

“No, I love you, Blaine Anderson.”