Kurt's New Years Eve was much more exhausting than he'd planned on it being. His father and Blaine had left the day after Christmas, while Kurt had returned to work for a few days and then been surprised this morning when Rachel had shown up with Santana and a car full of the other girl's possessions.

He'd known that Santana had been pondering moving to New York and testing the waters with the money her mother had given her, but she'd said very little about it since October. In fact, Kurt couldn't remember the girl saying much of anything about taking a semester of to try New York, at least not to him. Apparently Rachel and Santana had struck up quite an online and texting friendship, unbeknownst to him.

"Please, tell me that was the last box," Kurt complained, letting the awkwardly sized box slip from his grasp and slap down on the pile nearest to the door. "I can't take going up and down those stairs anymore."

"Maybe you two should have gone with ground level then," Santana snapped peevishly, staring around at all of the boxes as Rachel looked scandalized.

"But then people could bust into our windows and– "

"Mercedes would love that," Kurt quipped, grinning slightly as he stretched. A second later he regretted it completely. "Ugh, I smell nasty. First dibs on a shower." He shuffled over towards his room. "I'll let you two sort all of this and our New Years plans out."

While he was cleaning himself up, the girls rearranged some of the apartment, stacking Santana's belongings in a corner for the night and deciding that it would be simplest, and best, if they stayed in for their first New Years in New York. All three of them were exhausted and in no mood to deal with shuffling, insane crowds in the streets of Time Square.

As they dug out the last bottle of wine Brody had left them, they snuggled up on the couch, televised turned on to the New Years Eve special and discussed different ways to arrange their apartment now that there were three of them. Overall, it was actually a fun night for Kurt, much better than a loud, drunken street party or anything else boisterous. For the first time in a long time, he wanted nothing more than to be a homebody, sitting with two of his, arguably, best friends, sipping wine, discussing 2013 plans, and eating popcorn.

"Are you going to apply to NYADA?" Rachel asked as the host's reappeared on the screen and the clock hit ten until midnight.

Santana pursed her lips, looking contemplative but not very thrilled with the idea. "I don't know. NYADA doesn't really seem like my thing," Santana said after a moment. "I'd rather be on stage with a bunch of sweaty, sexy girls screaming my name than in an opera house or theatre."

Kurt giggled at the mental image, not at all surprised by Santana's latest ambitions. His own acceptance letter for NYADA had arrived and promptly been turned down, much to Rachel's chagrin. She'd been rather furious with him over that decision, but the acceptance letter from Parsons had already been returned with his signature and he was quite content with his choice. He'd fallen quite in love with his job at and all of the possibilities that were beyond entry level. With further education and a lot of hard work, he knew he could climb the career path he was already on. Fashion design was something he'd always excelled at and enjoyed deeply, and while musical theatre was a cherished passion, he knew which one he could easily spend the rest of his life doing.

"NYU has a nice music program," Kurt mentioned, taking another sip of wine. "Blaine applied there, too. The deadline just passed for early admission, so you could still apply for the standard admission process."

Santana nodded thoughtfully, looking only marginally interested. "So are you and him together again or what?"

Kurt clenched his jaw at the abrupt question, part of himself aching in longing from Blaine's departure a week ago, and another part still sore and scared of the implications of that step in their relationship.

"No," he settled on, voice wavering. "We're friends still, but… anything else isn't happening right now. It's all just too much, and we– " Kurt paused, shaking his head regretfully. "We're still in love, but forgiveness is something we aren't ready for yet."

Rachel squeezed his thigh comfortingly, dropping her head onto his shoulder as Santana sighed.

"I still can't believe he did that," she said quietly as the clock on the television screen hit 11:56. "Me or Britt or, really, anyone else in Glee Club I'd expect it from, but Blaine… "

"It was his decision," Kurt admitted softly, "but I didn't make our relationship any easier by moving on without him."

Santana nodded, taking another swig of wine. "I know what you mean," she agreed. "That's why I broke it off with Britt, before that happened to us. I was already staring at all of these girls around campus and wanting to do things… It's not like I've never cheated or helped someone cheat before either."

"Leaving them behind really sucked," Kurt said sadly. "I think it's doing both of us good in the long run. He was here at Christmas with my dad," he told them, thinking back as his heart pattered a little faster in his chest. "He was… different. I don't know how to explain it, but there was this… moment– "

"When he sucked you off?" Santana asked crudely, trying to lighten the mood, but Kurt glared at her until she looked marginally guilty.

"It was like he was the boy I fell in love with and then he gave me his last gift and… it was like handing it over dissolved some part of that boy. Like, for the first time I'd seen him peel back a layer of himself instead of having to encourage him to do it, and there he was. Still the boy I fell in love with, but older, wiser, more steady and strong. It was like watching him find another part of himself that he'd left undiscovered." He paused, finishing off his glass of wine and setting the empty glass down on the coffee table. "I still haven't opened it, but I was just… so proud of him for helping himself. I'll always love that boy I first met, but he can't stay that sixteen year old forever. At some point we have to either grow apart or fall in love continuously with the people we grow into, right?"

The other two were quiet, staring at him in shocked amazement, until Santana finally said, "Damn, Porcelain. Maybe you should spend a week by yourself more often if it gives you profound insights like that."

Rachel nodded sagely as Kurt cleared his throat. "One minute to go. Any resolutions?"

"To be friends with Finn but nothing more," Rachel said immediately, surprising Kurt and Santana since she'd still looked stunned by Kurt's words. "I'll always love him, but Brody is who I'm falling for now. I can't keep hanging myself up with a high school romance."

"Ugh, finally," Santana said in relief. "I can't believe it's taken you this long to figure that out."

"Mine is to do well at work and at Parsons," Kurt decided, biting his lip before adding, "and to let myself forgive Blaine and see where life takes us after we've both forgiven what he did."

"I want to kick both of your asses by getting famous in New York before either of you," Santana said. "And to be happy, whether it's by myself, with Britt, or some other girl." She finished her wine as well. "Oh, and to not have Berry as my New Years kiss."

"Hey!"

Kurt snorted as Rachel reached around him and tried to smack Santana, the three of them collapsing in a pile on the couch as the television and the city around them rang with the last countdown of 2012.

"3… 2… 1! Happy New Year!"

Blaine and Sam cheered as the ball in Time Square finished its drop on the television screen. They were in Blaine's basement, spending a relatively quiet evening together. The rest of the Glee Club was either out of town, at home with visiting family, or, in the case of Brittany and Tina, holed up at their own little "Girls Only" New Years Eve party. Sam had decided to counter that with a "Boys Only" one, using Blaine's house as a base of operations since his parents had been invited to James's colleagues' usual New Years bash. Blaine had denied an extended invitation in favor of having Sam over for a night of video games, board games, and several rounds of brandy during the first half of their Star Wars marathon.

By midnight they were both rather tipsy, though Blaine knew he was still far away from drunk. He hiccupped as all of the people in the crowd on the television grabbed each other and began to suck the other's face off.

Sam giggled, his jock strap (designated as his Bane mask) slipped over his nose and down around his neck.

"You sound like a squawking rooster," Sam sniggered, swaying a little next to Blaine on the couch.

"A cock," Blaine corrected, twirling a Twizzler between his fingers. "I love cock, you know. Especially Kurt's. It's my favorite. Even more favorite than my own."

Sam cackled loudly, tipping backwards onto his side of the couch as the couples on screen continued to make out. Blaine turned to watch him, room spinning slightly. Okay, maybe he'd had a bit more to drink than he'd originally thought.

After what felt like forever in Blaine's buzzing mind, Sam stopped laughing and sat up.

"Neither of us get New Years kisses this year," Sam grumbled morosely, eyes fixed on the screen.

Blaine glanced at it, surprised to find the couples and hosts still kissing. Time was unbalanced in his brain apparently, because he could have sworn that Sam had laughed for at least ten minutes instead of ten seconds.

"We could be each others," Blaine offered, barely even processing the words coming out of his mouth.

Sam stared blankly at the television, mouth hanging open in a way that could have looked remarkably horrorstruck if his eyes hadn't been so hazy and distant.

"The girls always say you're an awesome kisser," Sam informed him promptly. "Like, Rachel said you were fantastic and they all giggle about it at their parties."

"Oh," Blaine said simply. "I like boys' lips, though."

"They don't care," Sam shrugged, tilting his head and staring at Blaine. "Kissin's kissin'."

"Yeah," Blaine said a little dazedly.

"I've never kissed a dude before," Sam muttered as Blaine hiccupped once more, making Sam snort out a little giggle. "Wanna be New 'ears kisses?"

Absentmindedly, Blaine nodded, not caring that Sam was his very straight best friend, but knowing that nothing more than friendly affection was meant between them. It was a silly moment between friends, the same as Kurt was probably doing with Rachel in New Year at this very moment.

Sam leaned in a little too quickly, jaw knocking against Blaine's as he pressed their lips together. And it felt like nothing. A little tingle from the brandy still lingering on their lips, but just like kissing Rachel in the Lima Bean two years ago.

A loud hiccup echoed around the room as Sam swayed backwards, looking taken aback since the sound was now coming from him.

"Your kiss transferred it to me!" he said in outrage.

Blaine's face crinkled up as Sam hiccupped once more, the sharp sound loud and jolting. "Your lips are huge."

"Yours are a dude's," Sam said, sounding like he was agreeing to the unspoken conclusion they'd come to.

"That was definitely gross," Blaine said, speaking what they were both thinking.

With another hiccup, Sam dissolved into another fit of giggles, sliding off the couch as Blaine's face split into a grin and he began laughing, too. Never in his life could Blaine remember having so much fun or having a best friend, who wasn't also his boyfriend, to share evenings like this with. It was a new, fantastic experience he was diving into, and as much as he wished Kurt was there by his side, part of him was glad for the change. He was branching out, creating a life of his own, and finding a peaceful happiness along the way.

Blaine and Sam resolved to never mention their tipsy New Years Eve kiss in Glee Club, since the others would probably take it the wrong way. They both knew what it meant, and had had quite a laughing fit the following morning when Blaine's father had come downstairs to check on them, only to find them passed out on the couch and snuggled up together. Despite Blaine's assurances, James had insisted that the door now remain open when Sam was over, and Blaine's mother had simply smiled and shaken her head at all three of them.

Once school started up again, Blaine's life became hectic. His midterms were scheduled a few weeks into January, right before his first Julliard audition. There was Regionals to begin preparing for, several other clubs to organize, his boxing outside of school, and something he'd found quite upsetting when Principal Figgins had called him and Sam to his office the first day back. As Senior Class President and Vice President, the two were in charge of school-wide event planning, which Blaine had known included prom, which they'd already been discussing in meeting with their little prom assembly, but a new idea had cropped up this year, which meant–

"A Sadie Hawkins dance!" Principal Figgins announced to the silent pair of boys across his desk. "I hear it is the latest rage for young teens, especially these so-called 'feminist' girls, like Miss Tina Cohen-Chang, who want to be empowered."

As Principal Figgins rambled on Blaine grew tenser in his chair, his grip on the arm rests becoming as punishing as a mechanical claw. Not a Sadie Hawkins dance. Not after last time. He could notface another one of those, not with the memories and painful reminders his brain would be drifting back into. After that assault had happened, Blaine had done everything in his power to shove it out of his mind and then to further prevent such a thing from ever happening to himself again. He'd transferred to Dalton, taken up boxing, and generally kept any flamboyant aspect of himself tucked under his old blazer, tie, and crisp collared shirt.

There was nothing to hide himself under, and really, the last several months of his life had become devoted to understanding and accepting himself to the fullest of his ability. What would that mean now with this dance looming over his head? How long could he last before the inevitable memories started swirling around him like a windstorm?

When they exited the main office twenty minutes later, Blaine was silent, his walk stiff and unwavering. Beside him, Sam was riffling through the papers they'd been given, reading through a short list of dates and possible themes. Blaine was barely aware of any of it as the words "Sadie Hawkins dance" bounced around in his skull like a ping pong ball. Nobody here had any idea what he'd dealt with at the last Sadie Hawkins dance. Only Kurt had known, and he didn't want to bug him with this when they were finally friends again.

"… the casino one could be fun. We could use crackers and chips instead of really poker chips, and then have some gift certificates to cash any winnings in for or something… Blaine?" Sam stopped walking towards the staircase, confused to find Blaine had fallen well behind him.

Halfway down the hall Blaine had frozen, those three little words finally unwinding the tethers of robes Blaine had wrapped everything up in. His mind was racing with flashes of fists and booted foot, his heart pounding along as it tried to keep up.

"Dude!"

Sam was at his side quickly, catching him before he collapsed to the floor. As his back slid down the lockers lining the wall, his shirt getting untucked and caught on the vents, Blaine began to feel panicky. It was a sensation he still remembered well from his freshmen year, and despite the distance he'd placed there, it was still as heavy and overwhelming as it had always been.

"Woah, man, just breathe, okay?" Sam was squatting down beside him, rubbing his shoulders and talking randomly. Blaine could barely understand half of his words, only knew that the tone was calm and mellow. The rhythm of the other man's voice helped lessen the tension, but the bursts of memories kept popping into his mind, making him shake and shudder and sob.

Blaine didn't know how long they sat there as the memories slowly sunk back down. There were flashes from the dance itself, the assault afterwards and his defense of his date, then bright lights in the hospital hallways and operating room before he'd either blacked out or been put under. At some point Mr. Schuester appeared in the hallway, clearly looking for them since they'd left so long ago. The memories had mostly faded by that point, but the worry in Sam's eyes lingered for the rest of the day. Blaine refused to discuss why he'd had such a panic attack, even when Mr. Schuester had demanded to know what was wrong and who had upset him. It wasn't something Blaine ever discussed or worked through, just an old, frayed sock he kept swept under the rug that he always felt when he stepped too close to that edge, but never within his sight.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. Sam told him at lunch that he'd made all of the executive decisions for the dance and turned it back into Figgins and that Tina and a few of the other girls were going to help him with decorating. Without anything being said between them, Sam seemed to understand that the mention of the dance had triggered something in Blaine that they'd never talked about.

For the rest of the week, Blaine wandered the school in a foggy daze, not really interacting or doing his usual attempts at smiling and being friendly to everyone. His nightmares had returned the same day Figgins had announced the Sadie Hawkins dance idea and so far Blaine had managed to sleep as little as possible and not call Kurt in hysterics. He wanted to handle this on his own, perhaps with Sam's help if he could bring himself to tell him the truth about that terrible night, but he wasn't sure if he could manage it.

His Sadie Hawkins memories were easily the worst moments of his life, something he could see haunting him for decades to come because it broke the innocent eyes he'd viewed the world through. Kurt had been his most trusted friend, the only one who Blaine had ever had a reason to speak that truth to and the only one Blaine had ever wanted to. Without his guidance and comfort, Blaine wasn't sure how to direct any of the pain and fear he was experiencing, because Sam was his best friend, but he would never be the same best that Kurt was.

There would never be anyone else that knew him as well as Kurt did, but now was a moment, a little trial when maybe, just maybe, he could finally prove to himself that he could take care of be trusted once again.

Kurt had never imagined his life could become anymore chaotic than it had been when he'd first arrived in New York and started working at Vogue. Two weeks into January, he realized just how impossibly wrong he was. He was taking a full-time load of classes, working at least 30 hours a week, and most likely more, at Vogue, and attempting to juggle his friends here and back at home. Especially Blaine. That was the one promise he'd made to himself before Blaine had left at the end of December, whether they ended up still being in love when all was forgiven or just remained friends, he was going to do his part to make sure he didn't leave Blaine in the dust once again.

Unfortunately, an entirely new and unrelated part of his life now included coming home to Santana's rather questionable choices–

"Oh, yes!"

Kurt grimaced as he slammed the apartment door closed, glaring over at Santana's newly sectioned off room where he could see the distinct outline of two females pressed together and moving frantically. He knew at this point that slamming the door would make absolutely no difference in whether or not the two women fell silent, but at least this new fling had the decency to pause and gasp in surprise.

Apparently it only encouraged Santana further.

"Don't worry, he's gay," Santana panted, and Kurt hurried to the kitchen counter, tugging open the nearest drawer and digging out the little bag of ear plugs he'd put in there last week after he came home to this for the third day in a row.

The resounding echo still made him feel better about the situation, but having to hear the noises at all made him grind his teeth and flash back to the rather graphic dreams he'd been having lately. Before Santana had moved in, the fact that he hadn't had sex since he'd left Lima in September hadn't been an issue. There were no reminders with Rachel as his only roommate. But Santana–

"Oooh!"

He fitted the plugs into his ears quickly, then headed into his room, changed out his school bag for his work bag, changed into a suitable outfit for work, and grabbed the book he had reading in for his earliest class tomorrow morning. After that, he rushed back out of the apartment, not removing his ear plugs until he was three floors down.

Kurt sent a quick text message to Rachel, informing her that they were all having a sit down tomorrow afternoon and discussing some more roommates rules because he was not dealing with this every afternoon. At first he'd been amused, but now it was getting old and simply made him wonder how Santana had moved on from Brittany so easily. Maybe it was because she'd found out that Sam and Brittany were now going out, or maybe she hadn't been as deeply in love as Kurt had thought. Kurt imagined it was the latter, because he couldn't even stomach the thought of making out shirtless with another man, not even in his uncontrollable dreams. Blaine had dominated those images, either sprawled out beneath him, arching and begging and moaningor curled over him, his hip's movements sharp and almost brutal as Kurt had clung to him–

With a rough shake of his head, Kurt pushed the dream images away, knowing that with the light of dawn came the reality that surrounded such an intimate setting now. He still hadn't dared to ask for the truth of that one night stand Blaine had had. Part of him still didn't know if he wanted full details or if he'd someday stop imagining himself walking into Blaine's bedroom, finding his ex-boyfriend clutching his sheets, ass in the air while another, faceless man pushed into him.

He shook himself more forcefully and silently scolded himself for his untamable thoughts. Somehow he had to let that go. But the idea terrified him, because a small, resigned part of himself knew that letting go of the imagined infidelity scenarios meant letting part of Blaine go, or perhaps letting him drift away entirely in his mind and heart.

Feeling slightly nauseous at the thought, Kurt set off at a brisk pace for the subway. He'd spend the remainder of his free time until work at his favorite coffee shop by his office. A medium drip and some quiet time to finish his class reading was exactly what he needed now.

Somehow that idea dissolved into him nostalgically taking a picture of his coffee cup and sending it to Blaine with the words, "Remember the first time we had coffee together? And I spilled it all over the table because you made me feel so silly?"

By the time he left the coffee shop for work, Kurt still hadn't received an answer. Blaine had been unusually silent for the past few weeks and Kurt thought that that absence, kindled with Santana's overactive sex live, was the reason for his dreams. And the part where he was still in love with his ex-boyfriend. That was certainly a contributing factor to the hard-on always jutting against his thigh shortly before dawn every morning.

It was odd, since Kurt was used to so many messages from him. Even before they'd broken up, Blaine had always called, sent a text, or in some way contacted him throughout the day. Whether or not Kurt had answered had never seemed like an important factor, but now that Kurt was on this side of the equation, he thought he might be starting to get it. It hurt to be ignored when he was reaching out, even when they were only friends now, because he knew in his heart that so much more was shared and held between them, even if it was unspoken and rocky for now. For the first time since they'd broken up, Kurt understood how much Blaine had hurt in September.

If it hadn't been for Rachel, Santana, and a few other friends and co-workers, Kurt didn't know how he would have coped. At the same time it hit him once again that he had to let this go. This attachment was what had cause their downfall last time, and maybe in order to forgive and move past this he had to let Blaine and their love go. The boy he'd fallen for didn't exist anymore, not entirely, and Kurt had to realize that and let go of him before he could ever fully love someone else.

Unfortunately, loving anyone besides Blaine was a scary, unfamiliar thought.