"I- I can't. I'm sorry, but I'm with Blaine now."
"I should go …"
"No, wait!" and you don't know why you're doing it, but you reach out, grab his hand, pull him in. "Happy Valentine's Day, Dave," you whisper, and you lean in, pressing your lips to his surprisingly soft cheek.

"Kurt!" and oh shit, is that …? Wha-what's Blaine doing here? How is he even … "Kurt are you okay? Get away from him, you Neanderthal!"
"No, no, Blaine, it's okay! He didn't … I mean I … I kissed him," you manage to stutter out between the panicky breaths which are suddenly forcing their way up through your throat.
"…What?" and it takes him a second to process what you said, but then his voice comes out all cold and flat, managing to sound small and hurt as well.
"No! It's not … I wasn't …"
"I, uh, I should probably go," Dave mumbles, and the look he shoots you is of gratitude, forgiveness, understanding, but you can see the hurt under the tears. "Um, Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt." And then he's gone, and it's just you and Blaine and the assumptions you can hear him making in his head.

"Will you let me explain?" you force out, unable to meet his eyes.
"Of course, baby," but the endearment sounds too stiff and formal on his lips and you both wince at how wrong it sounds. You reach out to take his hand, pulling him over to a booth and ignoring the way he flinches slightly at your touch.
"I-I've been getting these little cards and presents all week from my 'secret admirer' and I thought it was you, baby, I thought it was you, but then one card said to meet here and … and it wasn't you, it was him, and …" you can feel your voice getting more and more hysterical, the tears threatening to spill over because oh god, Blaine thought you were cheating on him, and, and-
"It's okay, sweetie, calm down. Just breathe. I'll hear you out, come on, deep breaths," and sweet Jesus, could he be more perfect? He has every right to be mad, and he's sitting here rubbing your back and telling you to take your time.

"Ri-right … so … it was Dave, and I haven't spoken to him since we saw him at Scandal's, but he gave this really sweet speech and h-he said he loved me, Blaine! And he's changed, really he has, bu-ut I told him 'no' because I'm with you and I love you and he was upset, but he didn't get mad or anything, and then he was going to go and I felt so bad, because he'd gone to all that effort and he looked so sad, so I just … I just kissed him on the cheek, Blaine, I swear! It was nothing, I just … and then you saw and I freaked out and here I am, freaking out and oh god, Blaine, say something please!" but he doesn't – he just reaches over and brushes the escaped tears from your cheek, leaving his palm resting there against your face. "Blaine, I-"

"Kurt." And you look up at that, because he doesn't sound mad or sad or anything you expected – he sounds exasperated and a little … amused? "Kurt, you are singularly the most wonderful person in existence. Ever." And you're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head.
"Uh … and why exactly is that?"
"Well," he smirks, "the list is pretty long – remind me to go through it with you someday – but I'm bringing it up now because here you are, worrying, because you're just too nice! I mean, you feel bad because you don't return his affections! And of course you don't – although you seem to be convinced that he's changed, you can't just forget everything he did to you! And you were just trying to make him feel better and, baby, I'm not mad!" and you sag in relief as the endearment sounds natural and warm. Burying your face in his neck, you sniffle away the last of the tears and press a small, shy kiss into his soft flesh.

"Thank you, love. And sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for."
"I still am, though. Oh, and I love you."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt."
"Happy Valentine's Day."