"Why is Anderson glaring at me?” Kurt looks up from his lunch—celery sticks, some slices of avocados and half a sandwich, today—to smile at his boyfriend. Caleb is glaring over at the glee club table, blue eyes narrowed and face set in a pout. Kurt nudges him with his shoulder, but Caleb pulls back, “No, really, Kurt why is he glaring at me? I didn’t think the kid could pull any look but timid and terrified.”

Kurt glances two tables over from where he’s sitting with some of the Cheerios and Swimmers to see the Glee Club table. Mercedes is in the midst of a fight with Rachel Berry, both of them gesticulating wildly, Tina is showing a magazine to Artie and Mike on the other side. Blaine is nowhere to be found. Kurt puts down the avocado slice, turning the side eye on Caleb Harrison.  His boyfriend gestures, and wow, okay that’s creepy.

Blaine is seated behind Tina, propped up behind a Calculus workbook with just his nose, eyes and hair visible. If Kurt didn’t know better, he’d think that he had a stalker, but it’s just Blaine, the loveable quiet nerd with a massive crush on Kurt. His eyes widen almost comically when Kurt lifts up a hand and waves at him with a playful grin.

To his credit, Blaine lets the workbook fall and shines a blinding, sweet smile at Kurt. His eyes wander and Kurt almost laughs out loud when his mouth sets into a pout when he looks at Caleb. Kurt rolls his eyes and just so happens to brush his fingers over Caleb’s, shooting him a smile, “Relax, handsome, he’s my friend.”

“He’s glaring at me, and looking at you like you’re a delicious treat he’d like to eat.”

“Blow,” Kurt corrects airly, waving around a celery stick for emphasis. “He’s looking at me like a treat he’s like to blow.” A smile pulls at the corner of his lips when Blaine gets momentarily distracted and pulled into Rachel’s fight, and he’s forced to comment with a deer in the headlights look, “He’s not going to do anything, relax, Cal.”

“Yeah, Cal,” Santana chirps from the other side of the table, cradling her head in her hands and batting her eyes prettily at Kurt and Caleb. “Better not get to feisty or people’ll think you have a thing for Lady Lips over here,” She flashes a winning smirk at Kurt, challenging him to say something that will rile her up. Kurt can’t. He purses his lips, fingers turning white as he clenches the cafeteria tabletop, watching her without comment. They hadn’t seen eye to eye since Blaine’s performance almost three weeks earlier, and she had taken every opportunity to mercilessly insinuate that there was a relationship between them.  “Tell me, Harrison, are you flying the rainbow flag?” 

Caleb’s response, a stuttered denial and violent shake of his head, is the wrong move and it’s all Kurt can do not to bang his head on the lunch tray in front of him. He instead, cross his arms across his chest, eyeing her with disgust, “Like you should talk, Satan.”

She doesn’t justify it with a response; her job is already done judging by the look of the four other Cheerios that have looked up curiously. Instead, she pulls Brittany toward her with a sickeningly sweet smile and presses a kiss to her cheek.  The other cheerleaders don’t even stray from their conversation about collagen, and Kurt’s stomach clenches in anger and hatred. Kurt really hates the double standard at McKinley High. He can’t wait until he’s free.

“I’d hate to interrupt your battle of wits,” Caleb cuts in, sounding a little put out, “But can we get back to the point? Why is Anderson glaring at me?”

“He has a minor crush on me,” Kurt answers as lightly as possible. Caleb may not want to come out, but he has a jealous streak a mile wide and is fiercely overprotective.  of other people potentially checking him out.

“Why?” Caleb asks in a low tone, anxiously checking that other members of the swim team at the table are not listening to their conversation.

“Well,” Kurt begins curtly, sending him a dirty look, “Blaine thinks I’m attractive and isn’t ashamed to say it in public. You know, if you would finally come out you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“We’re not having this argument again,” Caleb barely holds back a glare, shifting even further from Kurt. “You know I think you’re beautiful and I really like you, Kurt, but I can’t. I have two more months left than I’m out of here.”

“No one would care. Is it really that big of a deal that I want my boyfriend to hold my hand somewhere other than my bedroom?” Kurt protests, reaching to take Caleb’s hand, who instantly retreats as if he’d touched a burning stove. He glances around anxiously, slumping into a casual position with his legs splayed open. Kurt rolls his eyes, “If you’re trying to look more hetero, you should just go make out with Santana. That way you’d both be bearding each other.” Caleb doesn’t give an answer, so Kurt angrily gets to his feet, staring down at Caleb in disgust, “You’re hair is enough to make anyone think you’re gay, if you’re that concerned you should learn the art of not giving a fuck about your hair.”

Kurt stomps away with tears in his eyes, hauling his bag over his left shoulder and retreating from the cafeteria with enough spunk that no one says anything. He doesn’t notice, even as he storms into the always empty girls’ bathroom nearby that his little shadow—his sweet, quiet little shadow—is following him.

He finally rests at the sink, bowing his head and running his hands absently through the running water. He’s just so tired of pretending that it doesn’t bother him; Caleb is literally his dream boy in looks and attitude, but it’s mostly a front. He lacks the confidence that would make Kurt fall for him. He’s too meek and follows the crowd so easily that Kurt’s afraid one day he might just decide he’s bi and pretend their relationship never happened. It’s too far-fetched to think that that’s possible, but late at night, when Kurt’s running through his day and planning his outfits, he thinks about his boyfriend and wonders if he made the right choice.

Caleb had been the obvious choice, even though he was struggling so much with his sexuality. He was handsome and sweet and popular and perfect for Kurt. Their relationship had been so much better when Kurt didn’t know any of his faults.

Kurt sniffs loudly, so very thankful that the bathroom is empty, and tightens his grip on the sink. He just wants to be free of oppressive Ohio. He’s so sick of being an anomaly, and treated like a strange species. He doesn’t know how Blaine handles it every day without the strength of the Cheerio uniform. Kurt tries his hardest to be out and proud, but it’s so very hard and he can’t help but dream about life in New York.

“Are you okay?”

Kurt looks up from the sink, peering intently into the mirror at the reflection of Blaine Anderson near the door. He’s dressed reasonably well today, in navy blue high waters with a striped sweater over a light gray button up and a bowtie that matches the shade of one of the stripes. Kurt doesn’t think that he changed clothes today, which is a relief. Just yesterday, Blaine had walked into the choir room for glee in his gym shorts and a McKinley soccer team t-shirt he had to borrow because the jocks had gotten him a second time in two days.

Blaine is watching him curiously, not prodding him to answer. He seems content to spend his lunch period in the girls’ bathroom with Kurt. And Kurt can’t seem to take his eyes off of him, watching with a watery smile as Blaine nudges at the metal frames on his face, and touches the one loose curl that dangles by his left ear. He’s not wearing suspenders, today. He looks older than sixteen.

“I’ll be fine, I just got too caught up in our argument.” He smiles faintly, turning to look at himself in the mirror, and making a face at how splotchy it is from the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He hesitantly wets a paper towel and dabs at his face, wishing he had some of his moisturizers in his bag instead of his locker. He doesn’t know how Blaine could find him attractive, he looks like a child with chicken pox—not someone you’d fawn over.  Since there is a football game today, he’s wearing his boxy uniform, not something even reasonably attractive, and desperately trying to not think about the feel of the polyester nylon fabric against his skin.

“Did he hurt you?” Blaine asks seriously, eyes boring into Kurt’s. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his laughter, thinking of teeny Blaine attempting to hold back six foot Caleb. He had watched Blaine beat the stuffing out of a bag in the wrestling room, but the image of Blaine actually in a fight made him shiver. He didn’t ever want to see blood dripping from a cut or see him covered in black and blues.  “Kurt?”

Kurt shakes himself out of it, and turns the automatic faucet back on with a wave of his hand. “No, he didn’t Blaine. You don’t need to play my knight in shining armor,” He shrugs, offering a shy smile, “Thank you, though.”

“Don’t sound so dubious,” Blaine comments with a pout, bringing up his hands in a boxing stance, jumping around on the balls of his feet, “I could totally take Blondie in a fight.”

Kurt laughs a belly clenching laugh, throwing his head back at the serious stance in combination with Blaine’s all too preppy attire today. He finds himself smiling even as a grin crosses Blaine’s face and his eyes flood with relief. It kind of makes him a little giddy inside to know that Blaine would do anything to make a smile light up Kurt’s face. 

Blaine’s hands fall to his side, and he steps closer. His eyes are the color of caramels today, flickered with tiny specks of gold. “I know that we have our own history,” He begins cautiously, licking his lips with a pretty pink tongue, “But you can talk to me, Kurt. Maybe I can help you?”

Kurt shrugs, turning back to the mirror, and raising a hand to touch his hair. He and Blaine had gotten together a fair few times without the girls and found that they did actually have a boatload of mutual interests, singing and a strong appreciation for the editors of Vogue among them. He had begun to talk to Blaine, outside of school at first, then in glee club, and even, in class in front of the other students. It had earned Kurt some negative popularity points, but it had worked out fine once Kurt pinned them all a nasty looking glare.

“I don’t know if you can, Blaine. It’s not something you can fix, it’s not even something that I can fix, I think.” He shrugs again, closing his eyes for a minute. “Caleb’s not ready to come out and I won’t force him too. I just wanted to share myself with him. He’s not really into all the same things that I am, and when we do go out, it has to be miles away near Westerville before he’ll even think of showing himself in public with me.”

“His dirty little secret, hmm?”

There’s no disguising the bitterness in Blaine’s voice, and Kurt opens his eyes hesitantly to find that Blaine’s fists are clenched and his breathing’s a little uneven. He looks angry and disappointed. Kurt can sympathize; if he hadn’t been already so used to it, he would have berated Caleb.

“I just want to hold his hand in the cafeteria, or kiss his cheek in the hallway,” Kurt admits unsteadily, feeling tears well up in his eyes as he thinks about how many times Caleb has pulled away from him, or the amount of times his boyfriend had literally ignored him in the hallway to greet a pretty cheerleader. Kurt wipes at his eyes, steeling himself, “Is that so bad? How long do I have to wait for him to be ready? I just want someone to love me.” 

He hears his dad’s voice in his ear, 'until you find someone as open and as brave as you, you're going to have to just go it alone.' He doesn’t want to be alone forever, he wants a boyfriend who loves him and wants him. Caleb had tried, valiantly to be who Kurt wanted him to be, but he had been afraid and it seemed like he was perfectly fine with losing Kurt.

A hand is gently placed over his on the sink, and he knows that Blaine is following his train of thoughts, and has probably been there as often—or more, really—than Kurt has. Kurt slowly turns his hand around to grip Blaine’s back, enjoying the feel of another’s person’s hand in his own. It’s not like he’s never held hands before, Caleb was touchy when no one was around and most of the girls, particularly Brittany and Quinn, always pressed her tiny hands to his own. 

Blaine’s is different somehow, and Kurt can’t explain it. He’d like to think that maybe it’s because their soul mates who were intrinsically made for each other at birth, but really, Kurt thinks that it’s just that Blaine is innately comforting. It’s warm and solid, and exactly what he needs when he’d rather jump off the deep end than think about spending the rest of his life alone.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt whispers finally, making no move to pull his hand from Blaine’s. “I’m not normally like this, but I just so many things are stressing me out today.” He takes another deep breath.

“Kurt,” Blaine begins hesitantly, eyes watching him with so much emotion, Kurt thinks he might drown. “I just—I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. I know you don’t see me as anything but a friend, but I’ll be here. And I’ll love you.” He clears his throat, looking mildly sheepish, “I’m sorry, we were just moving passed my crush on you, and I brought it up again. But—“

Kurt squeezes his hand and Blaine stops talking with a frown on his face. Kurt reaches up to touch his cheek, pressing a light finger to his cheekbone and watching almost entranced as Blaine’s eyes fell shut , long, dark lashes fluttering against his tan skin.  Kurt doesn’t dare breathe as he brushes the pad of his finger along his cheek, and over the bump of his nose. Blaine is really very handsome, in ways that Caleb is most definitely not.

"Maybe one day,” Kurt whispers hesitantly, hearing the sound of the lunch bell ring overhead. They have approximately thirty seconds before the bathroom is flooded with girls needing touchups before class. Kurt realizes almost belatedly that he’s still standing with his hand caressing Blaine’s face, and shakes himself away from Blaine with a shiver that races down his spine. He takes a deep breath, deftly grabbing his bag in a sideways bend, and pops back to the mirror to critically judge how badly he’s in need of a quick skin care treatment.

“Do you really mean that?” Blaine asks hesitantly, once he opens his eyes to watch Kurt with an almost blessedly hopeful look on his face.

Kurt licks his lips, ushering Blaine out of the door with him. Kurt doesn’t speak, not until he’s standing a few feet from his locker, hand already digging into his bag for his notebooks and misplaced English paperback. He thinks he may have been a bit rash saying that, his pulse drumming a bit fast in his chest and his palms a little too sweaty. Kurt turns deliberately to look at Blaine head-on, catching the loving look Blaine has pinned on him before he can mold his face into something more platonic. It ignites something in Kurt, a tiny seed of pleasure that makes his stomach flutter and his cheeks flush.

Kurt disregards any dreams of telling Blaine no, and instead, cocks his head slightly to the side with a grin beginning to form, “You’ll just have to wait and see.” With that, he slams his locker shut and walks away from Blaine to pre-calculus class.

Blaine doesn’t head to class for many minutes after.