The first thing Blaine was aware of when he woke up was that he had slept for more than a couple of hours in a row for the first time since he and Kurt had—well, since he and Kurt weren't he and Kurt any more. The second thing was that a pair of all too familiar arms was wrapped around his middle. He turned his head slightly and, sure enough Kurt was still lying next to him, only somehow they'd shifted in the night so that Blaine was the little spoon and Kurt was practically plastered to his back. The third thing he noticed was that Kurt was incredibly hard against his ass and definitely still asleep due to the little snores coming from him.

In the past, Blaine would've enjoyed this fact, and allowed him to sleep a bit longer before kissing him awake to continue what they'd been doing the night before, effectively taking care of Kurt's little problem. But, in light of recent events, it felt wrong to lie here and enjoy the feeling of being wanted, so Blaine carefully reached behind him and gently shook Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt?" he whispered and then tried again a little louder when he got no response. "Kurt?"

"Mmph..." Kurt murmured into Blaine's pyjama top and nuzzled his face into Blaine's neck. He then proceeded to press himself against Blaine's ass properly and groan in a way that should be illegal as he ground into him, trying to get friction.

"Kurt, wake up!" Blaine said loudly, causing Kurt's eyes to flutter open. He looked at Blaine sleepily for a second longer, still rocking against him, and then suddenly his eyes grew extremely wide and panicked as it dawned on him what he was doing. Immediately, he jerked away from Blaine, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, and rolled over until he was on the opposite side of the mattress, pulling the sheets up over his head.

"No, no, don't be like that," Blaine said hastily, leaning over and tapping Kurt on the shoulder. He flinched away from Blaine's touch. The now familiar sense of hurt washed over Blaine and he sat back on his side of the bed, wrapping his arms round his legs.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—sorry." He closed his eyes, wondering how he could've fucked up so spectacularly in the few minutes he'd been awake.

Very slowly, Kurt's still-red face poked out from underneath the sheets to look at him.

"It's not your fault," Kurt said, his voice higher than usual and for some reason Blaine's desire to kiss him in that moment doubled. "I was the one getting a little bit too well acquainted with your behind."

"Even your sleepy subconscious loves my ass," Blaine grinned at Kurt.

"Oh, God," Kurt groaned, turning his head momentarily back into the pillow. "This is so embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing, Kurt. I love that you want me like that." Blaine's mouth snapped shut as soon as he'd said the words, his face looking panic stricken. For a moment Kurt's face remained neutral and Blaine waited for the freak out to start and then Kurt merely looked away from him before rolling out of bed completely and heading into Blaine's ensuite bathroom. Blaine hit himself on the head, groaning as he sank back into the pillows. You don't get to say that anymore, Blaine, remember? You fucked up and now you have to bear the consequences.

He lay there silently berating himself for a bit longer and then got up and put on the same clothes as yesterday. Just as he was gelling down the rats nest that was his hair, Kurt's phone buzzed from where it'd been left on the top of Blaine's dresser. Blaine almost went to check it for him, something he would've done without thinking when they were together in order to relay the message, but he stopped himself, realising Kurt might no longer want him to read his texts. That thought stung so he quickly resumed gelling his hair and tried not to think about gun shots or how spectacularly he'd ruined things with the love of his life (a feat that turned out to be impossible).

Another buzz sounded from the dresser, only this time it kept going, buzzing repeatedly and insistently; Kurt had an incoming call. Blaine sat and stared at it in the mirror for a second and then abandoned all attempts at willpower and crossed the room, gingerly picking it up, unsure whether to answer or not. His mind was made up for him when he saw 'Adam' flashing on the screen as the caller ID, causing him to drop the phone instantly as if it suddenly burned him. Of course Kurt was still with him, of course he was! Why wouldn't someone as attractive as Kurt find a proper boyfriend in New York, one who wouldn't break his trust as soon as he was no longer attached to Kurt at the hip? And the worst part was that Blaine had no right to feel this insane mixture of jealously, betrayal and hurt; he'd lost that months ago when he'd hooked up with some random guy off Facebook.

He felt unwelcome tears threatening to escape and pushed his fingertips into the corners of his eyes, as if this would somehow force them away. It was then that he heard the click of the bathroom lock signalling Kurt was finished. Panicking that Kurt would see him in this state, he leapt off the bed and half ran to the door, just as the bathroom door opened.

"Blaine, where did you get that shower gel from? It smells divine..."

"I-ugh-I don't remember," I need to get out of here. "I'll, um, I'll be in the kit-kitchen if you, when you're r-ready. You're phone went off." He tried to sound indifferent but knew he'd failed spectacularly when his voice broke on the word 'phone'. Not that he gave himself time to worry, he'd already legged it out the room, closing the door a little too forcefully behind him in his haste, and still not having looked at Kurt once.

Blaine ran down the stairs towards the kitchen, unable to hold the tears in any longer, causing his vision to blur completely. He only made it to the hall before collapsing against the wall, his chest heaving, though whether that was from his lack of breath or his heart breaking into even smaller pieces he wasn't sure. He let himself slide to the floor and wrapped his arms around himself, as if doing so would somehow hold him together, patch up the cracked fragments.

As he buried his head in his arms, a loud bang came from upstairs and suddenly he was back in the choir room again, Mr Schue telling them all to get down, find a place to hide, stay quiet. Only this time, there was something else mixed in with the fear; an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair. What did it matter whether he lived or died? His parents would move on, Cooper too, they'd grieve and then realise it was better for their careers in the long run. Kurt would finally be free of him, able to squash his memory into nothing with countless kisses from Adam, no longer having to worry about pretending not to hate Blaine. Everything would be so much easier for everyone if he wasn't here, an ever-present burden to their lives. He felt himself whimper and vaguely heard footsteps, presumably Mr Schue, probably to tell him to shut up and stop endangering the others. A hand touched his shoulder and Blaine pressed his face further into his knees. Go away, he thought, go away, I'm not worth it.

"Blaine?" God, he was even imagining Kurt's voice now. He'd officially gone mad.

"Blaine, sweetheart, what's wrong?" The Kurt-voice asked again, and fuck, it sounded so soft and concerned and Blaine couldn't take it. He'd never get to hear Kurt's voice talk to him like that ever again.

There was a soft sigh and then he felt the person sit next to him, awkwardly in the small space between the stairs and his father's office door so that they were pressed hip to hip.

"Sweetheart, don't cry," The Kurt-voice tried again and Blaine knew he was going to shatter completely if he had to hear it again. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Or, better yet, why couldn't the person with the gun find him already, end this pain for good? His eyes snapped open, looking around frantically for any sign of the gun, he had to find where it was, he had to aggravate them and—

His eyes met the blue ones next to him, shining with worry and— was that fear? Was Kurt scared of him?

"I'm s-sorry," He sobbed, guilt engulfing him. "G-god, Kurt, I-I'm so s-sorry,"

Kurt tilted his head to one side, surveying Blaine with a surprised expression, as if that was the last thing he'd expected Blaine to say. He felt like he'd disappointed him again in some way.

"S-sorry," He tried again, his voice barely a whisper now. Kurt continued to watch him cautiously. He sucked in a shuddering breath and looked away, staring at the wall and waiting for Kurt to get up and leave.

"Blaine," Kurt began carefully. "Would you like to come back to mine for lunch?"

Blaine froze, certain he'd heard wrong or maybe made it up in his head, knowing him that was the more likely explanation.

"Finn's coming too and Carol was going to put something together. It'll probably just be sandwiches and salad, but if you'd like to come, I'm sure they'd all be thrilled to see you."

Blaine looked at Kurt this time, watching his mouth move so he could be certain he wasn't imagining things.

"How d-do you always manage t-to do that?" Blaine asked, his head falling back against the wall with a loud thunk. "You always zig when a think you're about to zag..."

Kurt snorted next to him. "Clearly, I'm just special." Blaine nodded, not joking in the slightest when he silently agreed. "So you'll come back with me?"

"I-yeah, yeah ok." Kurt smiled softly and placed his hand over Blaine's still-trembling one on the floor. Blaine instantly felt calmer. He squeezed Blaine's fingers slightly and then stood up, brushing off invisible dust from his tight jeans.

"Well, I'll go grab my coat and we'll make a move," He said, walking over to the closet. "By the way, Adam and I aren't together anymore. We've been just friends for a while." He said it so casually, but the words seemed to unclog something in Blaine and he exhaled in what felt like relief.

"W-what?" He asked, trying to pretend Kurt's statement hadn't affected him so much. Kurt merely raised an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly as he tossed Blaine his coat. Blaine tensed momentarily at being found out but then Kurt touched his back lightly as he walked passed him out the door and Blaine sagged in relief, rolling his eyes when Kurt glanced back over his shoulder.

The ride over to Kurt's house was quiet but comfortable, Kurt driving as Blaine tried to wipe the evidence of his slight breakdown off his face. They parked outside the familiar two-storey house and Blaine glanced in the little mirror one last time, brushing in vain at his slightly red, puffy eyes which gave away the fact he'd been crying, regardless of how well he'd wiped the tear tracks themselves form his cheeks.

"I think you're fighting a losing battle there." Kurt said teasingly. Blaine snorted but it still sounded choked off and weird. "Come on," He said more quietly, "No one'll care."

Blaine nodded and climbed out of the navigator, joining Kurt round the front of the car so they could walk up to the door together. It opened before they even got there to reveal a beaming Carol, slightly flustered-looking with a pink apron tied around her. She enveloped him in a big hug as soon as he reached the doorstep.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you. We were all so worried when we heard. Kurt here was beside himself." Blaine looked timidly over at Kurt who smiled softly at him and then gestured for Blaine to go on in. Blaine smiled as he took in the familiar little hall and breathed in the smell he associated with Kurt's house, the one of the places where he felt most at home, second only to Kurt's arms.