Blaine followed Kurt into Breadstix, holding tightly to his hand. They were on their way to meet up with the rest of New Directions, in what would probably become a post prom tradition for the glee club. Blaine hadn’t wanted to come. He’d want to take Kurt home, and cuddle with him on the couch and try to make the world okay for him somehow – no matter how na�ve and futile the idea might be.

He’d faced down his fears, danced with Kurt, and put on a show for Kurt’s classmates. It had ended up being the most perfect moment, at least in his eyes, and Blaine hated what it had cost them to have it.

Kurt had been the one to insist to they go to Breadstix.

“I don’t want to go home yet, Blaine,” Kurt had said. “I can’t…I don’t know how to explain this to my dad.” He’d pointed to the crown still fixed on his head with the scepter he held in his hand.

Honestly, Blaine wasn’t sure why Kurt had still been wearing it, but he’d hesitated to ask. Instead, he’d nodded, reaching over his free hand to hold Kurt’s once he’d put the car in drive.

Silence settled on the crowd at Breadstix when they entered, the hostess pointing them to where New Directions had taken up a large section of the back wall. Even with Finn and Jesse missing, thanks to their fabulous display of macho shoving, they were still a large group.

As they walked back to the group, Blaine got why Kurt had left the crown on.

Almost every table was filled with McKinley students, their eyes on Kurt and Blaine. Kurt held his head up regally, if Blaine had to describe it, ignoring them all. Blaine would have thought him unmoved at all, except for the death grip Kurt had on his hand.

They finally reached the table and sank down into the first two empty chairs. Most of the others had been joking and laughing until their arrival. Various looks of pity were sent Kurt’s way, and Blaine tried not to get angry.

Kurt didn’t need pity.

Awkward silence fell, and no one seemed to know what to say.

“Queenie.” Santana was the first one to speak. Horrified eyes, including Blaine’s, stared at her.

“Yes, Satan?” Kurt nearly snapped.

“You’re totally a fierce bitch in that crown,” Kurt looked oddly touched by her words, swallowing hard before speaking.

“Of course I am.” He arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in her direction. “Nobody rocks a tiara like me.”

The group fell into laughter, slowly going back their previous conversations. Blaine glanced around as Kurt took a shaky breath, realizing they’d sat down directly across from Santana and Karofsky. He wasn’t even sure why Karofsky had joined them.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Kurt said, and Blaine realized he was talking to Santana. Well, his words might have been directed at Santana, but his gaze was on Karofsky.

“We could say the same about you,” Santana replied.

“Not ready to go home yet,” Kurt muttered. “My dad’s going to lose his mind when he –“ he stopped mid sentence. “I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t immediately transfer me right back to Dalton.”

“Do you think he’d do that?” Blaine tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but he must not have done too well, because Kurt’s narrow-eyed gaze met his. Blaine just smiled innocently at him, and Kurt only managed to hold the stare another moment before laughing. Santana made a sound of disgust, getting their attention.

“Seriously, if you’re going to jump each other, at least go to bathroom.” Blaine could feel his face turning red at Santana’s words. Kurt’s was red too. “Unless you’ve got some exhibitionist tendencies…in which case, knock yourselves out.”

“Jealousy is not a good look on you,” Kurt said. His gaze was not one Blaine would want directed at him. She just shrugged, leaning back into her seat.

“Your dad really wouldn’t make you transfer back, would he?” Karofsky’s question was so quiet, Blaine almost didn’t hear him. Kurt’s reaction to it was interesting as well – before the two had only shared anger, but now that Karofsky had apologized, really apologized and meant it, Kurt seemed softer toward him.

“I can talk him out of it,” Kurt answered. “I talked him into letting come back to McKinley, didn’t I?”

“After he yelled for a really long time,” Karofsky replied.

“My dad’s all bark and no bite,” Kurt chuckled. “Ask Blaine.”

“Your dad scares the crap out of me,” Blaine admitted honestly.

“Yes, well, Blaine...” Kurt gave him a teasing look. “That might have had something to do with the drunken sleepover and you encouraging him to give me ‘The Talk’.”

“Wanky,” Santana commented, sipping from her drink. “I’m beginning to think I was wrong, Anderson. Kurt’s not the kinky one. You are.”

Kurt’s eyebrows were in his hairline, and Blaine let out a chuckle.

“I do not ever want to know how your thought process works,” Kurt told her.

“He practically molested that microphone stand during his performance tonight.” Santana examined her fingernails, looking nonchalant. “It’s not my fault your boyfriend has a manual fixation,” she snarked. “I just call it like I see it.”

“I do not have-”

“Yes, you do, Sweetie,” Kurt interrupted him. Blaine stared at him, surprised – not because he’d agreed with Santana, but because it was the first term of endearment either of them had exchanged. The flush on Kurt’s face indicated that he’d just realized it too.
“You also have boundary issues,” he continued, and Blaine frowned. “But I love you anyway.”

Woah. Okay. That was…

“I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Kurt’s voice was higher than normal, his eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed, and it was like everyone else in the room, including Karofsky who was…staring, for lack of a better word, seemed to disappear for a moment.

Kurt loved him.

Kurt loved him.

That was…

“Wow.” Blaine couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I didn’t….I shouldn’t have…” Kurt was flustered, and Blaine covered Kurt’s hand with his own.

“Stop.” Blaine smiled. “It’s okay. We’ll just…talk about it later,” he said. “When we’re not surrounded by twelve of your closest friends.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kurt squeezed his hand. The next hour flew by, Kurt and Santana trading barbs like it was second nature (and Blaine realize that, yeah, it probably was), and it was until the restaurant lights dimmed that Blaine realized it was getting late.

Somehow, despite the horrible moment at prom, they’d actually managed to have a good time. They filed out, one of the last groups of kids to leave, laughing and joking.

Rachel was still proudly displaying her bruised cheek (why she was proud that Quinn had hit her, Blaine had no idea, but maybe he just didn’t understand girls – it was probably a good thing he was gay), while Puck was promising Kurt that he and Lauren would get to the bottom of the ‘incident’ and make the perpetrators pay accordingly.

“Please don’t,” Kurt’s soft reply got his attention. “Don’t make it worse.”

“But…” Puck protested.

“I appreciate it, Puck, really I do,” Kurt said. “But my dad’s probably going to raise all kinds of hell as it is.”

“Someone should,” Santana replied.

“Can we just…let it go?” Kurt pleaded. “I just…”

Puck finally agreed, and everyone started to leave then. It wasn’t until Blaine heard Karofsky say Kurt’s name that he realized it was just him, Kurt, Karofsky and Santana left.

“Kurt?” Karofsky got their attention.

“Yes, Dave?” Blaine tried not to flinch at Kurt’s use of Karofsky’s first name. He didn’t like Kurt being so comfortable with the guy who used to shove him into lockers and threatened to kill him. He kept that thought to himself though, because it seemed that they’d finally gotten through to Karofsky, and his behavior was different. And if Karofsky could accept himself…

“I just wanted to say…I’m sorry,” Karofsky managed. “I shouldn’t have just left you there.” Kurt sighed.

“You weren’t ready,” He told Karofsky, eying Santana as if he was wondering how much she knew.

“Still, I could have…done something.”

“It’s really okay,” Kurt reassured him. “Blaine and I danced. It was all very romantic comedy, and no one said a thing.” None of them voiced the idea that people might have been thinking hateful things, because that was just too much on top of everything else.

“Now that prom is over, does this mean you’re done with the Bully Whips?” Kurt asked. “Because it’s okay if you are.”

“No.” Karofsky was the first one to speak. “No, I say we keep doing it.”

“The lack of slushies to the face has been nice,” Santana agreed.

“My dry cleaning bill is almost as low as it was when I was at Dalton – which my dad is thrilled about, by the way.”

“Though you’ve more than made up for that by buying new clothes.”

“Totally,” Kurt said, and then his phone buzzed. “And that’s my dad.” He checked the screen, seeing a text message. “You need to get me home before my carriage turns into a pumpkin and he grounds me for life.”

“Somehow I have a feeling Finn will be in more trouble than you are.” Kurt grinned.

“I’m so using that to my advantage,” he replied. They said to good-bye to Santana and Kar – Dave. Blaine had to start thinking of Karofsky that way, because Kurt did and it was obvious that the former bully was trying. It was also obvious that Dave had a thing for Kurt, but Blaine wasn’t too worried about that.

What he and Kurt had was so much more.

Kurt loved him. He'd said so.

“Have a good night, Queenie!” Santana’s voice rang out from across the parking lot.

“Go with God, Satan!” Kurt called back.

They were laughing as they drove away, and Blaine thought maybe it’d been the perfect night after all.