He had always heard the expression, "So dark, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face", but he never really understood it until now. Total and complete darkness. He wouldn't have thought it possible, surely there should have been a sliver of light coming from under the door, but that was not the case.

He took a moment, staying perfectly still, keeping his gaze trained for a few moments on what he imagined was the same spot, waiting to see if his eyes would adjust and let in more light.

"C'mon Blaine, it'll be fun", Tina had said. "Artie's my friend and he won't mind one more person. Besides, it's a SURPRISE party, everyone is welcome at those."

Meeting Tina at Chorus Camp had been the one bright spot of that stressful week; learning that they lived relatively close to one another was icing on the cake. She was fast becoming a really dear friend, something which Blaine didn't have in abundance. She was, however, irritatingly well-meaning, taking it upon herself to become Blaine's personal social director. She seemed to think that being surrounded by complete strangers was just THE BEST way to loosen up. He had grudgingly agreed, because her enthusiasm was infectious, and he knew deep down she meant well.

Problem was, Tina was late picking him up, and they had pulled into Artie's driveway a mere five minutes before the surprise was to be pulled off. A few of the Glee kids were on the porch (Blaine wasn't sure of their names), waving them into the house with loud whispers of "Hurry up! He'll be here soon, just find a place to hide!" He had scarcely enough time to get his bearings in the hallway, when Tina had spun him around, shoved him into darkness and shut the door.

And this was where he found himself now; standing in the tiny coat closet at the end of the hallway in an unfamiliar house full of unfamiliar people, getting ready to help spring a surprise on an unfamiliar member of a rival Glee club. He took a deep breath and waited.

A soft voice whispered from behind him in the cramped space, "No matter what I do or say at this point, you're going to freak out...." Blaine sucked in a breath so deep, he started to cough, throwing his hand up to cover the noise as he spun around in the tight space. "Oh my god, you scared me!" he whispered to the disembodied voice, his words ending in a small embarrassed laugh, "I wouldn't have thought this closet big enough for two people". The voice joined him in the laughter, "Surprisingly, yes, and I'm sure the Glee club totally missed the irony of putting me in the closet..." Blaine's eyes widened, and he tried to school his expression even though he knew the other person couldn't see his face.

"I'm sorry I'm being so rude, my name's Blaine..."

"Kurt" came the gentle answering voice behind him. "Not much space in here Blaine. Hopefully we won't be in here long. Are you a friend of Artie's? Or a family member?"

"Oh no," Blaine replied, "Tina encouraged me to come, she said it would be okay, that Artie wouldn't mind."

Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice, "Ah yes, Tina can be very persuasive when she puts her mind to it. And no, I'm sure Artie won't mind in the slightest, the more the merrier."

Outside the door, they heard Finn's voice moving up and down the hall, telling everyone in hiding that Artie's mom had texted them from the mall and they were delayed and would arrive in about 10 minutes, so stay put.

Blaine turned to the sound of Finn's voice, his back to his new closet buddy. He was shuffling his feet, trying to find a comfortable spot, hoping he wasn't standing on top of anything important the Abrams family had stashed on the floor. He moved just a bit backward, and when Kurt spoke again, he realized that he had shifted until his back was almost flush with Kurt's chest. Even though they both knew that Artie wasn't due for a few minutes, their voices remained quiet and hushed; it seemed to suit the environment around them. In any other situation, Blaine would find it rude to speak to someone with his back turned, but the alternative of being nose-to-nose with a total stranger in pitch black darkness seemed even more inappropriate, so he just remained where he was, trying not to fidget.

"So...." he began, clearing his throat, "you're in the Glee Club with Tina and the others?"

"Yes. And Blaine, a word of advice, if you've only met Tina and haven't been exposed to the rest of the group, just remember, they all mean well. We are a rag-tag group of misfits, to be sure." Kurt whispered, just a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Oh is that so?", Blaine responded. "I think that sounds refreshing, everyone being an individual. In the Warblers, individuality is not something that's really encouraged or embraced." Blaine wasn't sure why he shared that revelation. The darkness was apparently loosening his tongue.

"We saw your club perform last year at Sectionals, you were very talented. However, I do have to say the choreography could've used some work."

"Oh my god, I know!" Blaine said, his voice rising just above their whispered murmurings. "I try to get them to loosen up, but Wes almost had a stroke when I tried to throw in an extra turn. He doesn't want any of us pulling focus."

"Wes wouldn't have survived our Lady Gaga extravaganza last year then." Kurt chuckled.

Blaine felt himself relaxing. The darkness seemed to make it easier for each of them to be open and say things they might not say in the daylight. Blaine had never told anyone how he felt about the Warblers and their policy of "do as I do, nothing more", but he had felt it slip off his tongue here in the closet with his new friend. The tension eased out of his muscles, his posture relaxed, his smile broadened. Cocooned in the darkness he felt confident and free, rather than afraid or apprehensive. He was so rarely completely honest with people. He always held back some of himself; partly as protection and partly to keep the status quo. He censored himself for one reason or another, to spare his parents, to keep his friends. But here, he felt able to share. What made this different, he wondered, was it the cramped quarters, the feeling of isolation, or Kurt's soothing voice.

"Lady Gaga extravaganza?? Ooh, this is a story that must be told. Maybe I can convince the council that doing something a little 'out of the box' wouldn't kill them."

Kurt began to speak, telling Blaine all about how Mr. Schue had suggested Lady Gaga and they had taken the assignment to heart, made all their own costumes, the more outrageous and outlandish the better. Blaine closed his eyes and got lost in the gentle flow of Kurt's words. He wished he could see Kurt's face, watch his expression change with the mood of the story. But even without that, he could hear so many emotions in Kurt's voice, the love he had for his Glee family, the frustration and indignation he had felt with the jocks' disapproval, the obvious pride he felt with the performance. It was funny how in a few short minutes, he already admired Kurt. Blaine had always felt that he had been one to run from trouble, had just 'gone along to get along' so many times. And yet, here was someone he barely knew standing up and being himself, even if it cost him friends, family, and his reputation, simply because he couldn't imagine being any other way. It was something that he had never considered doing, but hearing Kurt talk about it just made it seem so simple to Blaine. Why wasn't he able to do that? Why did he constantly feel like he had to compromise who he was and what he believed, just to make others more comfortable?

He felt an inexplicable pull toward Kurt, wanting to draw on some of that strength, be more like that, he wanted to lean back further, have Kurt wrap his arms around his waist, and keep talking to him all night, here safely in the dark.

As Kurt got to the part of his story about the jocks terrorizing them, Blaine felt a tug at the bottom of his shirt. He stayed perfectly still, his breath becoming more shallow as he realized what it was. Kurt had the hem of his button-down between his fingers, and was twisting and rolling it as he spoke. A nervous habit perhaps. Did Kurt realize it was Blaine's shirt, or did he think he had the hem of his own between his fingers? He didn't want to interrupt the story, call attention to it, and Kurt seemed to be growing more agitated with the unpleasant memories as he spoke. Blaine knew the story had a happy ending, or else he couldn't imagine that Kurt would be sharing it, but he could feel the tension coming off Kurt in waves, hear it in the tightness of his voice. Almost unconsciously, he moved back a fraction of an inch, shuffling his feet quietly, trying not to make it appear so obvious, but he wanted to be closer to Kurt, offer him some wordless support, be there for him in this bad memory. He stopped abruptly when he felt the heat of Kurt's chest against his back. He noted Kurt's indrawn breath, heard the slight hitch in his voice, mid-word, then the story continued as if nothing were amiss. Maybe Kurt needed to feel Blaine's presence in that moment as much as Blaine wanted to give the comfort.

Kurt's fingers on the hem of the shirt moved inward more and more as he spoke. Blaine was sure now that Kurt realized it wasn't his own shirt that he was toying with, but it didn't seem to bother Kurt, and it definitely wasn't bothering Blaine. He could feel the touch of the inner part of Kurt's biceps on his upper arm, skin on skin contact, warming at the edge of their short sleeves. Blaine wished again that he could see Kurt, and yet, the intimacy of this moment, soft voices, utter darkness, shared secrets; it made the moment so much more than it would have been if the lights were shining on them. It made him feel bolder and braver somehow.

"And that's how I ended up wearing those ridiculous high heels while poor Tina was covered in balloons..." he chuckled quietly, finishing the story. Blaine could feel the ache in his cheeks from smiling so big, and he could also feel the heat rising from his neck over his face, until even his earlobes were warm. Kurt let go of the hem of Blaine's shirt, and moved his hand up a bit until it was lightly grazing the cloth covering Blaine's tummy. Blaine's eyes flew open. The air in the closet felt heavy, electrically charged, and Blaine waited. The sound of their breaths stopped, or maybe Blaine just couldn't hear it anymore over the blood pounding in his ears. Slowly, Kurt lightly rested his palm on Blaine's stomach, keeping the hand still once it landed there, letting out his held-breath. "This okay....?" he whispered nervously, his shaky breath so hot where it blew across Blaine's neck.

"Uh huh, I mean, yes, it's nice..." Blaine stammered. His nerves were jangled, skin humming, and yet, he couldn't remember ever having something feel so normal and so right. With Kurt initiating that first touch, Blaine felt a surge of courage. He moved the last few inches back toward Kurt's body, finally closing the small distance between them, until they were touching - shoulders down to hips. With their bodies flush against one another now, the height difference was apparent, and it sent a jolt up Blaine's spine. Letting his eyes drift closed, he finally released the last bit of tension out of his muscles. He felt the vibration of Kurt's happy "hmmmm" on his next exhale, and they just remained still. Two boys, barely acquaintances, thrown together by circumstance, sharing space and thoughts in a dark and cramped closet. It should have been unnerving, Blaine thought, and yet he had never felt more comfortable, more secure, more protected.

"Tell me Blaine," Kurt began, murmuring, his lips not quite touching the sensitive skin of Blaine's neck, "Why Dalton? I just caught a glimpse when you got shoved in here, but your sense of style was apparent. You don't seem like the uniform type of guy."

Laughing softly, Blaine said, "I don't mind the blazer too much, it serves its purpose, puts everyone on equal footing, no one more stylish or flamboyant than anyone else. It's okay during the week, but on the weekends and special occasions, I like to try and be more myself."

"I like the tie you're wearing now, where did you get it?" Kurt asked. Blaine felt as if a bubble was expanding inside his chest. Kurt had noticed in that split second before they were plunged into darkness. Kurt had noticed and that made Blaine almost giddy. He remembered the day he had chosen this particular tie, the day his mother had suggested they visit a new clothing store in town, and the tie had called to Blaine from the shelves. He told Kurt as much, trying to describe in vivid detail that afternoon, painting a picture for Kurt of the way buying the tie had made him feel independent and reckless almost. As he was relaying to Kurt the conversation he had in the store with his mother about which shirts he owned that the tie would go with, he was becoming more animated in the tale-telling, using his hands to gesture, and adopting a higher pitched whisper for his mother, mimicking her voice. And then he felt it. Kurt had obviously been listening, interjecting a soft laugh or a quiet "mmm" just to show he was paying attention, and then as if it was the most mundane thing in the world, he had lowered his head and rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine tried to continue with the story, he really did. But Kurt's chin was on his shoulder. His face was so close that Blaine could detect the faint smell of cinnamon from Kurt's toothpaste. The words dried up in his throat, and there was an audible click as he swallowed loudly. Kurt didn't seem rattled in the least, just tilted his head slightly, his hair brushing Blaine's temple. Sensations rocketed through Blaine's body so quickly he couldn't keep up with them. He felt as if every nerve was exposed, felt everywhere they were touching, from skin-on-skin where their arms met, and through layers of clothes everywhere else. There was no way that Kurt couldn't feel his whole body vibrating, his heart pounding. He needed to touch, needed to ground himself. He brought his arm from his side and laid his hand over the top of Kurt's where it rested on his stomach. Not clasping, not entwining, just covering. Kurt drew his arm tighter around Blaine and Blaine could feel Kurt smiling against his neck. Slowly, Kurt began rocking side to side just the slightest bit, humming against Blaine's neck. The space was incredibly small, but Blaine's body moved with him, the tiniest millimeters back and forth. He didn't recognize the song Kurt was humming, and it didn't matter.

The moment stretched and lengthened, minutes passing as they swayed in the dark. No sounds except the faint rustle of clothes, Kurt's sweet voice in the air around them, and their breaths mingling in the secure, small space. Too soon, they heard the faint metallic sound of a key in the front door penetrating the quiet. The movement inside the closet stopped, hanging in the air between them with so many questions of what had just happened and what would happen next when they would leave the comfort of the closet and be exposed to each other in the light. They heard Artie's mother's muffled voice, and then Artie's, followed by many more laughing and cheering shouts of "Surprise!!"

Inside the closet, neither boy moved. Eyes closed and hands touching. They listened to the hustle and bustle outside the door, Blaine silently praying the moment could stretch just a little longer, not eager to give up this cocoon. Kurt's hand flipped and turned underneath Blaine's, their fingers finally intertwining for those last few seconds they had here. Kurt raised his lips to Blaine's ear and whispered, "Surprise".

Slowly turning his head toward Kurt, lips almost touching, Blaine replied simply,

"Isn't it just."