He lasts until that night. So much is going on at school; what with becoming valedictorian and Artie and Tina fighting and Artie and Tina making up and singing. Which is why he doesn't even think that much about the picture of Kurt and Elliott. Not really. Not obsessively.

It's only when Kurt doesn't come online on Skype that he begins to worry. A bit.

He calls his cell phone and Kurt picks up at first ring.

“Hey”

It's whispered and lovely and Blaine misses him.

“Hey. You're not online.”

And maybe he could have started with something less accusing, but Kurt is always online for their nightly Skype session.

“Yes, I know, sorry. I just didn't want to risk waking her”, is the whispered reply and Blaine frowns.

“What? Is Elliott sleeping with you now?”

His voice is too high and too pitchy and it takes Kurt a moment to answer.

“Her. I said waking her. Santana insisted on sleeping in my bed tonight because she and Rachel have been fighting and she needs to pretend she doesn't care during the day.”

Blaine frowns even further and simultaneously feels like an idiot. “Why are they fighting?”, he asks, hoping to distract Kurt from his own insanity.

Kurt, being Kurt, is not deterred. “Don't change the topic, Blaine Warbler. Are you.. jealous? Of Elliott?”

Blaine hesitates for a moment, debating whether it's worth it to lie. But since it's Kurt, he knows he doesn't stand a chance.

“Becky showed me the picture of you and Elliott today. I'm not jealous. Just.. surprised. I thought he was a psychopath?”

Kurt hums in response, clearly amused, and Blaine sighs in relief. Amusement is so much better than the alternative, which would be anger.

“Turns out, he's not. I took your advice to heart and invited him over for some one-on-one time, to dig for information and such. But Elliott is awesome. He did see through my act, though.”

Blaine smiles in response, even though he still feels the sting of jealousy. “Of course. You're not exactly stealthy.”

Kurt laughs through the phone, a soft sound since Santana is still lying next to him, and Blaine aches with his longing to touch him, to kiss him.

“No, not really. You could have reminded me of that little fact before you send me off to keep my enemy close. I should be a better actor though.”

“It's not about being a bad actor. You just don't have a calculating bone in your entire body. I love that about you.”

Kurt hums again, this time clearly pleased, and Blaine presses his phone closer to his ear, as if that would help with the distance.

“Well, anyway, he and I spent some time together, mostly eating and talking, going guitar shopping and such. And he's great. He wasn't even angry about my little scheme. And he assured me that he's not planning on taking over the band.”

Blaine grins and nods. “That's good. Though I doubt that he'd tell you if he wanted to do that.”

“I know. But I believe him now. We got to know each other.”

He sounds so sure and Blaine can't stop the green-eyed monster from roaring its ugly little head again. He presses his lips together to stop himself from saying something stupid.

 “So.. You are jealous, aren't you? Do you in all honesty think I would cheat on you??”

Kurt sounds so incredulous and Blaine's heart does a painful little tug, the word “cheating” still scratching on a raw spot in his heart.

“No! No, I would never think you'd do that. I mean, okay, so maybe I've been a little jealous since I've seen that picture. But it's only because Elliott is there. And I'm not. He gets to spend time with you and kiss you on the cheek and eat with you and you clearly enjoy spending time with him and like him and I just got- insanely, stupidly jealous. I'm sorry.”

When Kurt doesn't immediately respond, Blaine shrinks in on himself on his bed, sure that he's screwed up again.

“I guess I can understand that”, is what he finally says, and Blaine breathes again. “You do know that I only want to be kissed by you though, right? I like Elliott, true, but I still like you best. Even if you're not here with me right now.”

Blaine laughs, a relieved squeaky sound. “I would hope so. Since we're getting married and all that.”

“Oh yeah, I've heard about that. You finally put a ring on it.”

Blaine smiles giddily and the ache of not being there, in New York, of not being with Kurt, on top of Kurt, under Kurt, isn't quite as bad, if only for the moment.

“I did. And soon I'll come to New York and then we can get started on planning that wedding.”

“Oh, yeah, we could do that. And then maybe you'll stop being a possessive macho boyfriend.”

He's teasing but Blaine still squirms in his pillows, embarrassed by his own behaviour.

“So I guess you're not into the possessive thing, then, are you?”

Kurt laughs, loud enough that Blaine is sure that Santana will wake up any minute now.

“Mmh, I've never thought about that. We could figure it out when you come visit me next weekend. Go out to a bar, where I can flirt with some guys and you can come over and act all macho possessive and take me home where I can show you that I belong to you, and only you.”

Blaine squirms again, this time for an entirely different reason. He would be self-conscious about how much the thought turns him on but Kurt's voice has gone all low and dreamy so instead he just enjoys the way heat floods through his veins.

At least until he can hear Santana's voice through the phone.

“I'm so impressed. Like, carry on, I never would have thought you were the perverted kind, who dirty-talks even when others are in the same room. I would have thought all you do is talk about rainbows and kittens and stuff.”

She sounds sleepy so her words aren't as vicious as she'd probably hoped.

“Hey Santana!”

There's some commotion and Kurt's quiet laughter and Blaine can hear a muffled “such a dapper cupcake, seriously, I can't believe you two have sex”.

Blaine feels the ache again, but then he remembers that soon, soon he'll be right there with them, living with his fiancé in the city of his dreams. He'll get teased about having sex with Kurt by Santana, he's sure, but since that means that he will have sex with Kurt, he can't bring himself to care.