It was two weeks until Kurt felt really cried out over it all. Until he got to the point where he could no longer shed any tears. He was finally done. Blaine was gone, and Kurt was done crying. No, he wasn't over Blaine, but he was done crying.

He was done feeling empty inside over something he couldn't control. Blaine cheated. There was no other way to look at it. It happened. They were broken. Kurt was broken. But he was done letting it rule his life. He had a great internship, good friends, and so much he wanted to do in New York. So he set himself free.

Maybe that was why, when the cute dancer from Rachel's NYADA class asked him to join his group of friends at a club on Friday night, he said yes. He didn't think of it as a date, per se, but Michael was cute, and he seemed nice. It would be good to get out. It would be good to think about something other than work or Blaine or how much he was hurting.

So he said yes. He was ready.

What he wasn't expecting was Michael to show up at his door with flowers and a shy smile as he told him that he lied about going out with friends and would Kurt mind terribly if Michael just took him out to dinner and then maybe drinks after.

Kurt wanted to be angry, god did he want to be furious about the lie, but Michael was so apologetic and nervous—not to mention, he looked really, really good in his jeans and that butter-soft brown leather jacket. So Kurt smiled. He smiled, and he said yes to dinner.

"You know, Michael, I'm really flattered, but you should know I'm kind of in the middle of a really bad breakup," Kurt said.

"I know," he said. "Rachel kind of mentioned it."

"Of course she did," Kurt said as he took the flowers from Michael and tried to find something to put them in. If she wasn't such a good friend, he'd probably have murdered her in her sleep a long time ago for always meddling in his business when it wasn't wanted or needed.

"I didn't get details," Michael said. "She just said to 'tread carefully.' "

"That sounds like Rachel," he said.

And then Kurt did something he felt like he hadn't done in weeks. He laughed.

"I like it when you laugh," Michael said.

Kurt tried to wave it off, blushing, pretending it didn't make him feel good. But the truth was, that simple compliment was what made him say yes. One little gesture and he ended up dating Michael for almost two months.

"So… dinner?" Kurt asked.

Michael smiled and held out his arm for Kurt to take. Kurt tried not to think of the way he and Blaine had always linked arms walking down the hallways at McKinley. This was different. He had moved on. Blaine had moved on. Kurt Hummel could walk arm-in-arm down the street with another guy and it was no big deal.

So Kurt wrapped his arm around Michael's and let himself be courted. And oh, how Michael courted him.

He always held doors and he never forgot to call when he said he would. He didn't get angry or hurt when Kurt had to work late, but he always made time to see Kurt in spite of their busy schedules. They saw Broadway shows and went dancing. They did karaoke and went ice skating in Central Park. They did all the things Kurt had wanted to do with Blaine. Everything except coffee dates.

Kurt still drank coffee, but he no longer enjoyed sitting in coffee shops discussing fashion trends or movies … or anything really. Coffee was a way to get through the day. Michael drank tea. So it never even came up.

They took things slow, and Kurt was grateful for it.

The first time they kissed was after their third date. Michael had gotten them tickets to see an off-Broadway show his roommate was in. It was awful. They made fun of it the entire train ride to Bushwick. Kurt laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face.

"Why do you cover your mouth when you laugh?" Michael asked.

"Do I?" Kurt asked; he'd never realized he did that.

"Not always," Michael said. "But when you really laugh, like a full-body laugh… yeah, you do."

"Oh… sorry?" he said as his hand fluttered up to hide his smile.

"No," Michael said, pulling Kurt's hand away. "I mean it's cute and all, but you have a great smile. Don't hide it."

"Oh, stop," Kurt said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"You do. And the most wonderful, full lips," he said, eyes on Kurt's mouth.

Kurt licked his lips self-consciously.

"And you lick them when you're nervous."

And then Michael's blue eyes were locked on Kurt's. He'd never noticed how lovely Michael's eyes were. He'd noticed they were blue instead of hazel. But it only occurred to him in that moment that he didn't mind the difference.

"Can I kiss you?" Michael asked.

Kurt just nodded. So Michael kissed him.

It was a good first kiss; it made Kurt's heart flutter and his lips tingle. But it couldn't compare to his first kiss with Blaine. Not that it mattered; Blaine was back in Lima, probably with someone else by now. Kurt was on a train in New York, kissing a really cute boy. A boy who wasn't Blaine.

By the time Kurt figured out he was still in love with Blaine, he had been dating Michael for six weeks. They were sitting on a blanket, having a picnic on the floor of Kurt's apartment – because it was too cold to do it in Central Park, even though Michael said that would be more romantic. They were celebrating Michael getting cast as an understudy for a small role in an even smaller play, and Michael pulled out two plastic champagne flutes and a Diet Coke. Kurt nearly choked on his pizza.

"You okay, Kurt?" Michael asked, patting Kurt's back.

Kurt nodded. "Went down the wrong way, I guess." But really he was thinking about Blaine toasting him when he was named a NYADA finalist the day before Blaine's eye surgery.

Michael smiled as he handed Kurt a glass.

"What are we toasting?" Kurt asked.

"Getting what we want," Michael said. "Even if it's not what we expected."

Kurt knew Michael meant getting the part in a play. But he was still thinking of Blaine. How Blaine was what he wanted. How Michael would never come close to meaning as much. How he so wished he felt differently.

Oddly enough, he didn't break up with Michael for the same reason he knew he probably should. He wasn't Blaine.

But the thing was, not even Blaine was Blaine. At least not the Blaine Kurt knew. Things had changed, and no matter how much Kurt loved him, Blaine wasn't a possibility right now. And Michael was.

So Kurt kept dating him. Their relationship was easy; Kurt felt grown up and sexy when he was with Michael. Their relationship worked because they didn't have to work at it.

It was almost two months to the day from their first date when the other shoe dropped. Rachel had rehearsal for her vocal performance class' winter showcase. It was rare for Rachel to be gone in the evenings, so Kurt offered to cook dinner for Michael.

He made vegetarian lasagna, and they drank red wine. It was a sweet, quiet night in. Kurt was happy.

And when they were doing the dishes afterward, Kurt splashed Michael with the soapy water. Just a silly gesture, almost a non-event in their fledgling relationship. It was a simple, playful moment that should have gone unnoticed. Instead it turned out to be one of those actions that set in motion a series of events that change everything.

Michael splashed him back, and Kurt raised his arms to protect his hair from getting too ruined. When Michael slipped on the wet floor, Kurt threw his head back and laughed. Michael scooped up a handful of suds and flung them at Kurt's face, joining in the laughter.

"Oh, you are so dead," Kurt shrieked, tackling him to the floor and squeezing out the sponge on the front of his t-shirt.

"Not fair… you have a weapon!" Michael yelled, trying to sound put out, but smiling and laughing the whole time.

"You have to be pretty quick to get one up on me, " Kurt said, using his body weight to hold Michael to the floor as he squirmed. Kurt laughed harder, sitting on Michael's chest and pinning his hands to the floor.

Suddenly, Michael stopped struggling and stared up at Kurt with a gentle smile on his face.

"I love you," Michael said softly.

Kurt froze, his laughter dying in his throat. "What?"

"Oh, god… too soon?"

"Um…"

"Oh shit, Kurt, forget I said anything. Let's just back up, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt said, pushing up on his knees and standing. He dropped the sponge into the sink.

Michael slowly sat up and rested his elbows loosely on his bent knees. Kurt took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs and stared at the refrigerator. Michael was in love with him. And Kurt couldn't say it back.

He should love Michael. He should, but he didn't.

"Michael…"

"Don't say it, Kurt. It's okay."

"It's not."

"I'm fine," Michael said, looking anything but. He pushed off from the floor slowly and stood. "I think I should go."

Kurt wanted to ask him to say. He wanted to tell him he'd try harder, tell him he felt the same way. But it would be a lie. He didn't love Michael and never would. He knew it deep in his bones the second he heard those three little words.

Because as soon as the words were out of Michael's mouth—when this wonderful, kind, generous man said, "I love you,"—all Kurt could think to say was, "I love Blaine."

It hit him like a freight train. Kurt really thought he was moving on, but instead he had been growing up. Learning about himself, finding a reason to forgive Blaine for cheating… a reason to forgive himself for leaving Blaine behind.

"I'm sorry," he said, not sure if he was speaking to Michael or Blaine.

"Me too," Michael whispered. He leaned down and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "I hope he knows how wonderful you are, Kurt. You deserve that."

Kurt jerked his head up. Michael knew.

"How…? I didn't…. I don't."

"Kurt, I've been there," Michael said, saving Kurt from his nonsensical words. "I hope it works out." He picked up his jacket and keys and stopped with hand on the door. "Call me if you change your mind." And then he was gone.

Kurt sat in that chair until well after midnight, staring at the floor. When Rachel came home around two, he had finally gone to bed. But he wasn't asleep. He laid in his bed and cried over things he hadn't thought about in months. Blaine singing Teenage Dream to him at Dalton the day they met. Becoming best friends first and then boyfriends, and finally lovers. He thought about Blaine singing Teenage Dream to him at Callbacks mere minutes before he broke Kurt's heart into a million pieces.

And he thought about the last two and a half months.

How nothing felt right even though Michael was wonderful. Michael was kind and loving and sexy, and everything a person could want in a boyfriend, but he wasn't Blaine. He didn't know Kurt mind, body, and soul. And he never would. That honor belonged to Blaine and now Kurt knew that it always would.

At 3:37 a.m. Kurt took out his phone and pulled up a number he hadn't dialed in months. The picture was still the same: Kurt and Blaine smiling, cheeks pressed together, eyes bright and full of love. It didn't hurt anymore. It felt like coming home.

He typed out a message and hit send.

Kurt:
Can you believe Moschino brought back that awful polka dot print for their spring line?

The reply came almost immediately.

Blaine:
The one that looked like they were drawn on with magic marker and then got left out in the rain?

He smiled as he typed out his reply.

Kurt:
The very one. It's awful. We're doing an entire feature on it in February. My eyes are bleeding.

Blaine:
I bet you can make it work.

Kurt:
You know, I'm sure we can.