Glee 1. First Day

**A/N: Ta-da! It's my Dalton Fic :) Yay! **_**Italics**_** are lyrics or songs/references. This takes place at the beginning of Special Education. This is kind of a prologue, a set-up chapter, and a lot of Kurt's thoughts. Real chapters will be longer.**

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><p>Kurt stared up at the intimidating doors of Dalton Academy. The school was huge and ancient, decorated in wood and marble. The pamphlet's he had first presented to his dad after spying on <em>Teenage Dream<em> told Kurt that the school was created in 1847, and 'a second home to help boys grow, and to reach their full potential in all areas.' The Warblers had an entire section devoted to them, as well as a separate pamphlet. They were all that Blaine had said. Rock stars, and well-funded ones at that.

Kurt could tell just from looking at the school that his experience here couldn't be more different from what he would have at McKinley. As much as it pained him to leave his friends and family behind, Dalton was as close to perfect as possible.

Coach Sylvester had been extremely helpful in his application process. Kurt being allowed into the school was the first mid-term transfer they had admitted since Blaine, two years previously. Kurt strongly suspected bribery or blackmail, though what Sue could have on somebody she'd never met before was beyond him. He didn't voice his suspicious though.

The countertenor had not spoken to any of the members of New Directions, with the exception of an extremely awkward goodbye from Finn moments ago, since he had told them of his transfer. He had attempted to talk to Mercedes, but, for the first time since he came out to her, she had flat-out ignored him. Kurt knew she was upset with him, for not telling her earlier, and for leaving, but he also knew she would get over it, because she loved him.

He knew she was also mad because of Blaine. It wasn't that the chocolate diva didn't like Blaine, or that she didn't think he was good enough for Kurt, if only Blaine thought of him in that way, but it was because she felt Blaine replaced her as Kurt's best friend. Kurt sometimes wondered if this was true, ever since the failed attempt to create a bond between them at BreadstiX, but ultimately came to the same conclusion, he would choose Mercedes over Blaine, no matter what happened. Now where he chose to be was a different matter.

Kurt also realized that, because he was reflecting, he had been standing in front of the grand entrance for probably about 10 minutes. He quickly hurried through the doors. Blaine didn't know he was transferring, because the process had been so rushed, and he wasn't sure he would be accepted, so he the likelihood of running into a familiar face was not great.

Luckily, the main office, grander than any area of McKinley at any time, was right inside the entrance. Kurt slipped in and smiled at the receptionist. "Kurt Hummel. I'm new here, so I believe I'm supposed to meet with the Headmaster." _Headmaster,_ not principal.

"Yes, you are the first of his morning meetings. Welcome to Dalton, Mr. Hummel." With that, she ushered Kurt into an office covered in Dalton colors, where a 30-something-year-old man was sitting behind a mahogany desk. "Headmaster Fournier, Kurt Hummel is here to see you."

"Yes, thank you, Alice. Please take a seat, Mr. Hummel." The headmaster's voice was deep, but surprisingly kind. "You transferred from McKinley High, in Lima, correct? Home of the Titans?"

"Yes, sir." Kurt kept his answer short and formal as he sat in one of the two surprisingly comfortable chairs in front of the headmaster's desk.

"You will be boarding or commuting?" the headmaster asked, as if he didn't already know, obviously trying to make Kurt more comfortable by asking easy questions. In a way it was helpful, but Kurt was finding it increasingly annoying and slightly condescending.

"Commuting, sir," Kurt answered, slightly sharply.

"That's a long drive, Mr. Hummel." The headmaster seemed oblivious to his tone, or perhaps was well suited to deal with nervous and annoyed teenagers.

"It was one of my father's conditions for transferring, sir," Kurt answered nicely.

"Very well. Why did you decide to transfer to Dalton, when there is a cheaper, but no less impressive, boarding school very near your town? Lima Academy, I believe it is called." The headmaster seemed honestly curious and that earned Kurt's respect.

"My father thought it best to have me as far away from Lima as possible, while still being able to commute. A few friends of mine attend Dalton Academy as well, sir," Kurt answered honestly in a much more relaxed tone.

"May I ask whom?" the headmaster inquired.

"A few Warblers, sir. Blaine Anderson, Wesley Carlton, and David Preston." Kurt included Wes and David as he had taken a liking to them.

"An impressive list there. Three well-known, bright, and talented boys." Headmaster Fournier enjoyed many of the Warblers, but Blaine was a widely known teachers favorite, with undeniable charm and charisma, and he was no exception to the fact that everyone liked Blaine.

"Good to know you think so highly of them, sir." Kurt knew that Blaine was a charmer to everyone, but was relieved that neither Wes nor David was on the headmaster's list.

"While we usually assign a mentor to new students, especially transfers such as yourself, it sounds like you will have no trouble adjusting. I see here that you were a prized member of McKinley's New Directions." Kurt had to resist the urge to snort at that. 'Prized member' indeed. "I assume you will be joining the Warblers."

"Yes, sir, that was my intent," Kurt replied, still resisting the urge to laugh.

"The Warblers are usually not lenient towards mid-term auditions, and I do not interfere, but with two members of the council and their first soloist at your side, I'm sure they will be more than happy to reconsider," the headmaster said with a sincere smile. Kurt almost asked what the council was, but refrained from doing so as the headmaster kept talking. "We have arranged a schedule for you based on your previous classes, and also on teacher recommendations. Unfortunately, there was no French IV open, but based on the Spanish I class you took sophomore year, we have placed you in a Spanish II." Kurt was fluent in French, and nearly fluent in Spanish, so he wasn't concerned. "If you have any conflicts or suggestions, please let them be known."

Looking over his class list, they seemed challenging, but rewarding. "If I may sir, I am nearly fluent in Spanish. Could it be possible to place me in a Spanish III, so that I may have more options to bond with those of my own year?"

Checking his computer, the headmaster responded, "Yes, and there is a class that same period as well. I shall email the teachers, and switch that for you. Anything else?"

"No, sir." Kurt was satisfied with his classes, and with this obviously bright and caring man.

"Well, first period is nearly done. Break is next, so perhaps you could head to the commons and meet your friends?" The headmaster suggested, obviously seeing his next appointment through the window. "Usually on the first day, you simply shadow someone, I would suggest Mr. Anderson, due to the fact you don't have your books."

"Well to be honest, sir, my friends don't know that I've transferred." Kurt said, wary of going out on his own. "Also, I have no idea where anything is."

"There is a map included with your information... which I have yet to give you. I apologize." The headmaster handed him a package with a Dalton emblem stamped on the front. "These are mostly forms and such, much of it is for your parents. Also, the Warblers convene at the tables closest to the stage, you'll see them."

"Thank you very much for your time, Headmaster Fournier," Kurt said reaching over the desk to shake the man's hand.

"Have an excellent first day, Kurt, and tell Alice to send in my next appointment." The headmaster smiled and shook his hand.

Walking out of the office, Kurt smiled at the receptionist and said, "He's ready for his next appointment."

"Thank you very much, Kurt, and have a great first day." The receptionist smiled warmly, if a bit clinically, and pointed a woman, probably a mom, into the office with a "He's ready for you, Mrs. Ablewhite."

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><p>Walking out of the office, Kurt sat at one of the benches to open the package, and pulled out the map. Not only was Dalton huge, naturally, but it consisted of three different academic buildings, as well as many different dorm buildings. Luckily, the commons were in the main building, the one he was currently in. Memorizing the path, as to not be the new kid who walked around with his nose in a map, he headed towards the commons.<p>

Reaching the doors, he realized commons meant cafeteria, and there was a rather large buffet of snacks accompanied a ridiculous amount of uniformed boys. Seeing that he had walked through the far doors, he headed towards the stage, searching for curly, gelled hair.

Walking up towards the Warblers and spotting Wes, he tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello, Wes. I'm not sure if you remember me, but-" He was cut off by Wes's enthusiastic grin.

"Hey, Kurt! I didn't know you were transferring." Another boy rolled his eyes and said, "I told you someone from McKinley was transferring, who else would it be."

Kurt paused hesitantly. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I've heard of you. Thad van Heusner, friend of all these losers." Kurt shook the hand he was offered with a "Nice to meet you, Thad."

Turning back to Wes, he asked, "Is Blaine around?"

Thad grinned and said, "What, lover boy doesn't know you transferred?"

Kurt was about to ask what Thad meant by 'lover boy' when Wes nearly growled "Zip it, Thad. And Blaine is right there," pointing towards the mob of boys headed over from the snack stand.

The moment Blaine saw him, he stopped in his tracks. "Kurt?" The tenor walked quickly, but smoothly up to the boys and enveloped him in a hug.

"Hey!" Kurt said cheerfully, hugging back. He saw Wes put a hand over Thad's mouth.

"Since when are you transferring?" Blaine asked, excited and happy at the prospect of Kurt being at Dalton.

"Oh, Blaine, did I neglect to tell you," Thad began, having clearly bitten Wes, if the way Wes was holding his hand to his chest was any indication, "the Ohio Show Choir boards talked about someone from McKinley transferring last night. A goldstarsinger88, to be exact."

"Rachel," Kurt said with a grin.

"And you neglected to tell me this?" Blaine said clearly annoyed.

"I thought I told you. I told everyone else. My bad." Though by the smirk Thad was giving him, Blaine knew he had purposely told everyone but him about Kurt's transfer. He refrained from commenting, however much he wanted to, and simply rolled his eyes.

"So what classes are you taking?" Blaine asked, taking Kurt's hand and leading him over where is was a little quieter, as Wes and Thad began arguing about, it appeared, Wes's hand.

"Here." Kurt handed Blaine the copy of his schedule from where he had already placed it in his messenger bag.

"I though you took French?" Blaine asked curiously, seeing Spanish III as Period C.

"I'm fluent in French, and nearly fluent in Spanish. No French IV classes were open, so I went into Spanish III as more of a chance to make friends than anything else." Kurt explained.

"Stop being so smart. Woah, AP Calculus?" Blaine asked, shocked.

"I'm good at math," Kurt responded offhandedly.

"Apparently, you're good at everything. We have next class together," Blaine said with a smile.

"Well, the headmaster said I should shadow someone my first day, because I don't have my books. He suggested you."

"Well between Wes, David, and I, I would pick me too. I love the pair to death, but they are some of the biggest disruptions Dalton has ever seen." Checking his watch, Blaine said, "We should probably go now. AP Gov is in the Clerik Building, we wouldn't want to be late, though I have the excuse I was helping the new kid. The real new kid, this time." Blaine said, clearly making fun of Kurt's attempt at spying.

"Oh, shut up." Kurt said with a smile, before allowing Blaine to pull him to his feet.

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><p><strong>AN: Oh, wow, look who turned into a real chapter. The headmaster's list (at my school) was where they put the kids the headmaster considered trouble. The **_**dean's**_** list is the really smart kids. Just so there's no confusion there. I like this chapter. Reviews are love, and encourage me to write (even though I'm going to start the next part right now, because AP Gov was always my favorite class. Mr. Bressler (who you will meet) is a real teacher. So is Headmaster Fournier. I'm giving him all my old teachers. It's really quite fun.**

**Reviews are Love.  
><strong>


	2. Warblers' Practice

**A/N: I really did have a teacher who acted exactly like Mr. Bressler, calling us Sallies, and dirt bags, and cupcakes. He was my favorite teacher all throughout high school. I'm not Catholic, at all, but the religion stuff will all be fairly accurate, and I'll get some fairly interesting stuff in there. :) Evil plots. Read on!**

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><p>In what Kurt would later discover to be true Blaine fashion, Kurt and Blaine were the first students in the AP Gov room. "Good morning, Mr. Bressler." Blaine called cheerily to the man sitting behind the desk, taking a seat to the left side of the room, in the second row from the front. "This is Kurt Hummel. He's new here, so he's shadowing me, but he's also actually in this class," Blaine continued, gesturing for Kurt to take the seat next to him.<p>

Mr. Bressler was a stoic man, rather short and with a sizable stomach. His hairline was obviously receding, and the hair left was cut short. His rather square jaw was clean-shaven, and his bushy, triangular eyebrows reminded Kurt shockingly of Blaine's.

"Kurt Hummel, I have to say you have broken a record. Second most flamboyant boy to walk through that door." Kurt was shocked by the teacher's bluntness, but just looked at him with an uncomfortable smile. "Or did I just judge you entirely wrong?"

"No, sir," Kurt said clearing his throat.

"Sir's my father, it's Mr. Bressler." Mr. Bressler said in a more serious tone. "I bet you're not a Sally are you. I bet you're a bitch." His tone returned to cheerful in an instant.

Kurt just gaped unattractively as Blaine and the teacher laughed. "He can be," Blaine admitted, earning himself a glare.

"At least you're not a Sally. Drew's a Sally," Mr. Bressler said, gesturing to the boy who walked through the door. "So's Jeff." He gestured to the next boy, who took a seat and pulled it to the very front of the room, about two feet away from the white board. He was wearing a Warbler's pin. "I bet you're wondering why he sits up there, aren't you?" the teacher continued to talk to Kurt, despite the bell ringing, and late students floating in. "It's because he's a cupcake and a deviant, and if he sits with Andrew, he's a chatty one."

Everyone in the class laughed, and Kurt looked confused. Thad, who had chosen a spot near the boy Mr. Bressler pointed to as Andrew, in the back, grinned at the countertenor and said, "Welcome to AP Gov. This is Mr. Bressler, the best teacher in the school by far. He's the only one of the teachers not related to another in some form, and he has no fear of Headmaster Fournier."

"Though Mrs. Girouard is damn scary," the teacher added, writing notes on the board. Kurt noticed that, including himself, there were only eight kids in the class. "In a circle."

The boys began to draw their desks into a circle. Kurt joined them after a moment's hesitation, noticing that most of them went out of their way to drag the desk against the floor, Andrew especially. What he did not see coming was the teacher rapidly turning around and chucking a stuffed squirrel at the boys head. The scariest part was, nobody else in the class reacted.

"Oh guys, lay off. Kurt must think he accidentally came to the asylum," Blaine said, with an apologetic look to the boy next to him.

"You totally like him, don't you?" Mr. Bressler asked, seemingly unconcerned for any sort of formal conduct.

Blaine just rolled his eyes as the other boys wolf-whistled or answered "Fuck yeah!" Turning to Kurt and explaining, "Mr. Bressler has been teaching at this school for eight years. All kids love him because he's funny, he teaches well, and he makes class interesting. I'm sure that while he was in high school he was the class clown, and he maintains that reputation today. Him chucking a squirrel-"

"Fluffy!" Jeff interjected with an amused grin, before Mr. Bressler huffed at him. "What I'm not allowed to interrupt?"

"No, you can't, because you're a cupcake." Mr. Bressler grinned in a teasing way.

"I am not a cupcake!" Jeff said, annoyed.

"They do this all the time. As I was saying, Mr. Bressler chucking Fluffy or Death, the squirrels, a marker, an eraser, anything really, at a student's head is rather normal. He also goes out of his way to make fun of everyone for something, especially if he likes you or you are exceedingly smart. He really is joking, and he works at you, but he never really goes over the line. With him you can be a little late, but not too much, or you can be unprepared, and he'll allow you to go to your locker or the bathroom. He's really just a good and sane teacher, one of the very few here," Blaine explained as Mr. Bressler and Jeff continued to argue.

"And a word to the wise for you, Kurt. Life is so much easier when you accept that you don't have a soul. Moving on." Kurt just put his head in his hands and groaned, getting laughter from those around him. Then he raised his head with a grin.

"I just have one question." Mr. Bressler nodded for him to continue. "If I'm the second most flamboyant boy to walk through your door, who's the first?"

Mr. Bressler laughed and grinned at Blaine. "Oh, I like him." Turning to Kurt he answered, "I assume you haven't met Charlie Shields."

Everyone in the room laughed as Kurt said, "No, I haven't."

Mr. Bressler laughed and said, "Oh you will." Blaine rolled his eyes at the room in general, before mouthing an apology to Kurt.

"Alright guys, serious time now. What does the Administrative Committee of the Federal Register do?" Kurt was amazed at how, despite all the teasing and laughing that had been done earlier, the students became serious and began to answer the questions. It was like a large group discussion, with Mr. Bressler firing off questions when the conversation began to go in circles. Kurt knew some of the information, and had some points to make, but kept quiet until Mr. Bressler flat-out asked him his opinion, forcing him into the conversation.

About an hour in, Mr. Bressler let them have a bathroom break. Most of the boys left the room, probably just to walk around or get a drink, but Blaine stayed, and Drew came over, plopping himself in the abandoned seat next to Kurt.

Though Mr. Bressler had called him a 'Sally,' Drew seemed very much the athletic type. Probably slightly shorter than Finn at about 6'1'' or 6'2'', he was well muscled and handsome, with short-clipped brown hair and blue eyes that looked right through you.

"Hey Blaine, fresh meat." Kurt figured that was the popular boy's way of addressing him, before he realized he was joking.

"Hey, Drew. How's... basketball season?" Blaine guessed.

"Yep, basketball. We kind of suck this year though. We lost too many seniors, and got too many freshman. It's a bummer too, considering this is the last year for a lot of us." Kurt gathered from this that Drew was a senior, and as athletic as he had expected. "So, why the mid-term transfer?"

"Reasons," Kurt answered coldly.

"Ouch, that was cold. I get it, none of my business, right? I got the exact same answer from this one when he first transferred," he said with a nod towards Blaine. "So, you a sophomore or junior?

"A junior," Kurt answered.

"Hey, look who can be nice." he grinned. "So, since you're in AP Gov, considered one of the hardest classes at the school, you must be a smart one, like Blaine and Thad."

"He's taking AP Calc too. It's ridiculous," Blaine commented from Kurt's other side.

"Damn, why must all the transfers be little geniuses?" Drew asked with a grin.

"I'm not that little," Blaine grumbled.

"Sure you aren't," Drew appeased him. "If you can sing, I'm going to throw myself out that window."

"That would be much more impressive a statement if we weren't on the ground floor," Kurt said with a smile. "And yes, I sing quite well, thank you."

"Good luck winning over Wes, David, and Thad though," Drew said, earning himself a confused look.

"They control auditions," Blaine added, now flipping through his textbook. "Wes, David, and Thad all already like him. He probably won't even have to audition. They know he can sing."

"Since when?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"Since I may have showed them a few videos I found of you on Youtube. Wes couldn't resist the idea of what a countertenor would do for harmonies, and David has a thing for cheerleaders," Blaine said with a smirk, making Kurt's head fall into his hands again.

"I can't believe you found _4 Minutes_," Kurt groaned.

"I can't believe you were a cheerleader." Drew said.

"I was forced by our psychotic and often rather sadistic coach. It wasn't one of my prouder moments," Kurt said, head still in his hands.

"Drew, you have 'cred'. Go fetch my cupcakes," Mr. Bressler said, interrupting their conversation.

"In case you haven't figured this out yet, cupcakes is his favorite word for students," Blaine said with a long-suffering sigh.

"That's right. We have work to do Sallies!" he addressed the boys coming through the door.

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><p>"French class was a lot less fun that Mr. Bressler's," Kurt added with a grumble at lunch.<p>

"No class is as fun as Mr. Bressler's. Other teachers would be fired for calling their students dirt bags. Sometimes I don't even know how he gets away with what he does. It's probably because the students love him so much," Blaine said, leading Kurt towards the queue of students waiting for their lunch. "Everything here is a la carte. There are always a bunch of options."

Kurt picked out a salad and a water, and gave a disgusted glance towards the pizza, chips, and Gatorade in the tenor's hands.

"Oh relax. The pizza's ridiculously good, even though it absolutely drips grease 99% of the time." Blaine said once they reached the check-out. "And since it's your first day, it's on me," Blaine said with a nod towards the teacher checking them out. She tapped a few buttons on the computer screen in front of her and said, "You're good."

"Blaine, I can pay for my own lunch. I have money," Kurt argued rather pointlessly as they walked over towards the Warblers.

"I'm sure you can and I'm sure you do. However, it's annoying paying if you don't have an account, and it's your first day. Therefore, it's my treat." Blaine effectively ended the conversation by sitting next to David and gesturing for Kurt to sit between him and a Warbler he hadn't met yet.

"Hello," the Warbler said. "I'm Michael Cote. Fellow Warbler, nice to meet you."

"Kurt Hummel." He said with a smile. "Are things always so.. hectic around here?" Kurt asked, looking around at the chattering boys, some of whom were doing cartwheels and flips, and others having food fights and pulling pranks.

"This isn't even the worst of it. Wesley, do not put that in Kurt's water," he directed quickly towards the boy who was holding a pepper shaker over Kurt's water bottle.

"Damn it. Come on Mikey, at least let us mess with him a little," Wesley said with a pout. "Nothing personal, Kurt, we do this to everyone." As if to prove his point he began putting copious amounts of pepper in Blaine's Gatorade.

Kurt rolled his eyes, and tapped the tenor on his shoulder. "I wouldn't drink your Gatorade if I were you. Wes put pepper in it." Blaine smiled a quick thank you before returning to his conversation with David.

"Oh, by the way," Wes added, having put down the pepper shaker, "we were really impressed with the videos Blaine showed us. You're quite the soprano." Wes thankfully did not mention the cheerleading aspect.

"You're a soprano?" Michael asked clearly surprised.

"I'm a countertenor," Kurt corrected, but the two ignored him.

"Yeah, he is, and an excellent one at that. You should sing something for us." As if Wes's words were magic, the whole table went quiet enough just before he spoke that everyone could hear, and turned to Kurt to hear.

"I.. don't think on my feet very well." Kurt admitted, flushing a bit under the attention. Blaine, who he had come to think of as his guardian angel lately, did not intervene with this one, simply raising an eyebrow at Wes, and suggesting "_Defying Gravity_."

Kurt glared at Blaine before starting to sing.

_Something has changed within me  
>Something is not the same<br>I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game  
>Too late for second guessing<br>Too late to go back to sleep  
>It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap<em>

At this point about half the cafeteria had turned to look at him, because, while he was better with volume control then Rachel, singing a soft soprano was hard, and he truly loved this song. With nods of encouragement from the Warblers, he continued to sing.

_It's time to try defying gravity  
>I think I'll try defying gravity<br>Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity  
>And you won't bring me down!<em>

"Everybody's staring," he whispered to Blaine, blushing fiercely.

"They're staring because you're good. Keep singing." Wes and a few other Warblers nodded.

_I'm through accepting limits,  
>'cause someone says they're so<br>Some things I cannot change,  
>but 'til I try I never know!<br>Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost  
>Well if that's love it comes at much too high a cost<em>

Kurt's voice grew in intensity and volume as the song continued, the students assembled staring at him in awe.

_I'd sooner buy defying gravity  
>Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity<br>I think I'll try defying gravity  
>and you won't bring me down!<br>Bring me down! Oh-woahh!_

Kurt cut the song a chorus short, and ended with a wail, hitting the High F perfectly, as he'd always been able to. He would never have to shy away from that note again. He realized, he was free now, to be whomever he wanted to be. Everyone was clapping and cheering for him, not the (big-nosed and fashionably-challenged) female singer, but him!

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><p>"Well that was fun.. and <em>humiliating<em>," Kurt whispered to Blaine during Chemistry, being just a smidgen dramatic. They hadn't gotten the chance to talk during Religion, another one of those classes that Kurt was actually in, because they had gone to the chapel for the Stations of the Cross. Blaine spent the time actually involved in the activity, and Kurt spent the time rolling his eyes and resisting the urge to snort at the stories of the Great Sky Fairy.

"Relax. Most people probably thought we were having another impromptu performance, like _Teenage Dream_. Do you know how many times we have randomly burst into song during lunch? It's fine. No one will think anything of it," Blaine said with his usual confident smile. "And you sounded amazing, that High F was phenomenal. But now can I listen to the teacher while she tells us what chemicals were using, so I don't blow anything up?"

"Well, well, look who's capable of sarcasm." Blaine just grinned.

Kurt had already taken Chemistry at McKinley, though it wasn't nearly as advanced or hands-on as it was at Dalton, but a credit is a credit, so the class was pretty boring for him. He was mostly shuffled off to the side by Blaine's lab partner, Eric, who apparently disliked him on sight. Kurt had decided to nickname him Lucifer, at least mentally, because he gave off the vibes that he would rather be dressed in all black than anything else. It also didn't help that Kurt didn't like him. At all. He was far too hands-on with Blaine, which did nothing but piss him off the entire class. Blaine didn't seem to mind being pawed though, which annoyed Kurt even further.

Thankfully, Chemistry was the last class of the day, so Kurt spent the entire 50 minutes thinking of painful yet fabulous ways to kill Lucifer and not get caught.

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><p>At the very end of the day, Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm and dragged him to the Clerik building.<p>

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, annoyed.

"Warblers. It's almost comical how serious and different every single person you have met today will be different during rehearsals. They all love music and take Glee very seriously. Ready?" Blaine's little speech didn't exactly give him a lot of confidence.

Kurt gulped. "Maybe."

Blaine ran a bit ahead of him, leaving him to walk down the last hallway on his own. Andrew, from AP Gov, gave him a high-five as he walked, and he clutched the strap of his new Dalton-issue messenger bag tightly.

Upon entering the practice room Kurt heard "And now, let's welcome the newest addition to the Warblers, Kurt Hummel." Blaine opened the doors for him, and there was applause. Kurt put on a smile and walked into the room.

All the Warblers were sitting or standing around scattered couches and tables which Blaine was heading towards, and Wes, David, and Thad were sitting behind a high table. So that's what the council was, and that's why they control auditions.

Getting another high-five from a Warbler in his religion class, whose name he believed was Kendrick, he stepped up towards the table the council was sitting at.

Banging his gavel, Wes continued "And our oldest tradition, for our newest Warbler, an actual warbler."

Blaine said "Kurt, meet Pavarotti," nodding towards the birdcage sitting on the table in front of him.

Wes explained. "This bird is a member of an unbroken line of canaries who have been at Dalton since 1891. It's your job to take care of him, so he can live to carry on the Warbler legacy." As he spoke, Blaine carried the birdcage over to Kurt. "Protect him," Wes continued. "That bird is your voice."

Kurt, attempting to lighten the mood, joked "Hey, I'll bring him to work with me. Weekends, I volunteer at a stray cat rescue." He laughed awkwardly as he realized what Blaine meant. The Warblers, who were so goofy and fun normally, were completely serious and somber during rehearsal. "It's at the bottom of a coal mine." He tried one more time.

Realizing Blaine was smiling at him, but looking away, he clarified "No, that was a joke. I don't.. I-I don't work at a coal mine." Wes banged his gavel again, and with a half-hearted laugh said "Let the council come to order. Today we discuss the set list for Sectionals."

"Council?" Kurt figured this would be his perfect opportunity to ask exactly what that meant. Blaine answered for Wes. "We don't have a director. Every year we elect three upperclassmen to lead the group. But don't worry, we all get a say."

"Oh, fantastic!" Kurt said, clapping his hands together. "I have a lot of ideas. Warblers, if I may? Now I can't deny that the Warblers' vocals are absolutely dreamy, but I believe our set for Sectionals should have a little more showbiz panache. I think we should open with _Rio_ by Duran Duran."

"Uh, the council is responsible for song selection," David interjected.

Wes continued as though the council had a joint mind "But we appreciate your enthusiasm, Kurt. It'll come in handy one day when you're sitting behind this desk." Turning back to the Warblers in general, Wes said "Now, I propose we do our entire set at sectionals in eight-part harmony."

Kurt realized that the Warblers perhaps weren't so unlike New Directions. Mr. Schue completely decided the songs there, the council completely decides the songs here. No matter what, the majority never have a say. Kurt sat down beside Jeff, who gave him a little look, almost an apology, or maybe pity. He could feel Blaine's eyes boring into him, but he ignored him and continued to listen to Wes.

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><p>After having split from Blaine by leaving the rehearsal quickly and avoiding him in the hall, Kurt went around through the buildings, collecting books, and getting used to the placement of his classrooms. Kurt was surprised there were still so many people here after school, then he remembered, boarding school, they don't ever leave. Still, he thought it was a little unusual that they were spending time in the academic buildings rather than their dorms. If this place was anything like McKinley (and every minute he discovered a new way it wasn't), the teachers would have left as soon as the bell rang, often more excited to go home than the students.<p>

"Hey, Kurt, wait up!" And Blaine had caught up to him. Blaine ran quickly down the stairs, clearly unaware that he was being ignored and avoided, to a point. "I saw that Glee Club was hard for you today, seeing your ideas shot down like that."

"It's just a different energy in there." Not really as different as it had first seemed, but Kurt wasn't inclined to discuss that with Blaine at the moment. "Not better or worse, just something I'll have to get used to." A lot of things he had to get used to, actually.

"We recognize that, and we have a tradition at this school of rewarding a student with a good attitude, so," Blaine paused for effect, stopping at the bottom of the spiral stair case. If Kurt was not a little distracted with his thoughts on the Warblers, he would be admiring the mirrors along the stairway, and the way they lite up the hallway by reflecting the light from the gorgeous stain glass window, or the rails which were intricately designed. "We would like to invite you to audition for a solo."

Well, that was a little bipolar of them. Anyway, perhaps the Warblers were a little different in that not all the solos were handed out, but auditioned for. The only auditions even in New Directions was the self-rigged Defying Gravity diva-off, and Mercedes singing _And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going_, and that worked out _so_ well. Thankfully Kurt's mind, mouth, and ears could all work simultaneously, so Kurt replied quickly, "For Sectionals?"

"For Sectionals." Thank you echo_._ "Sing something good." Kurt was amazed at the possibilities presented, but knew he would need help, and for that help, he would turn to the one person who got more solos than anyone else he knew. First, he needed to be back in Lima. The probability was it wasn't too late to catch her in the auditorium.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not quite through with Special Education, though the scene with Rachel may have to happen the next day, as it is about 7 PM by the time Kurt gets back to Lima. I'm not going to go day-by-day with this fic, obviously, as it turns out a day equals two chapters, but it will probably be fairly long. **

** Reviews are love. **


	3. Rachel's Madness

**A/N: I'm not sure I liked the ending of the last chapter. I didn't add quite as much of Kurt's and Blaine's reactions and thoughts as I would have liked, and I realize, thanks to a reviewer, that I really rushed into that last scene. It could have waited until the next day. My apologies. So, I get to introduce my third favorite character in this chapter, and add those Blaine and Kurt's thoughts/reactions. Read on.**

* * *

><p>"Hey, Charlie." Blaine said with a half-hearted smile to the boy who flounced into his dorm uninvited.<p>

"Why the sad face, Blainey? Oh, don't tell me you're mooning over our endearing spy again!" Charlie considered himself an honorary Warbler, and had even stolen one of the pins, though he didn't sing, so he lived in the Dalton Warbler dorm. Blaine acted constantly annoyed with him, and he was, but Charlie was the best friend he had at the school, with the possible excepting of Kurt.

"Actually, _Kurt_," Blaine emphasized the name no one seemed to call him by, "transferred to Dalton today. He's already a Warbler. An official Warbler, unlike you."

"No way, lover boy goes here now? How have I not met him?" Charlie asked indignantly.

"I didn't see you around today. And his name is _Kurt_, I don't see why everyone is determined to call him otherwise." Blaine rolled his eyes at his best friend, and the behaviors of Dalton boys in general.

"I didn't feel like attending classes today. And, to answer your question, it is because he is _all_ you have talked about for the last.. month. You drove all the Warblers half-mad! 'His eyes are so amazing, his attempt at duplicating the uniform so adorable, he was so vulnerable and sweet, and not at all bitter, his fashion sense is so _incredible'_ blah, blah, fuckin' blah!" Charlie mimicked Blaine at a much higher pitch that Blaine spoke, but he recognized the mocking all the same.

"You're already more than half-mad, Charlie, and was I really that bad?" Blaine didn't remember saying half of those things, at least not to Charlie.

"Yes, you really, really, _really_ were. And now I wanna meet this hot piece of ass!" Charlie exclaimed, plopping himself on Blaine's bed without a care for the books he knocked on the floor.

"You know, I am studying here. And Kurt is _not_ a piece of ass. He's a person, not one of your countless fuck buddies," Blaine said with irritation, because while Kurt was absolutely amazing, he certainly wasn't Charlie's.

"Wow, possessive much. Relax, you totally have dibs, no matter how cute he is. Twinks aren't really my style anyway. As to the 'studying' thing, how exactly do you study math problems?" Charlie asked with a smirk, pointing to Blaine's open Pre-Calculus book.

"Okay, okay. I was thinking about Kurt." Blaine knew his best friend would just weasel the information out of him, so he began to talk. "It's just, he came to Warbler's practice today, and got Pavarotti and everything, but he just.. has so much energy and enthusiasm and has some really good ideas, and Wes just shot him down. He looked so crushed. He was all smiles, and then.. well he claims it didn't have an effect on him, but he looked really upset. He even avoided me! And-"

Charlie cut him off with a mock-gasp. "Oh my, he avoided you! Why would anyone ever want to do such a thing?" It was a true credit to how well Charlie knew Warbler's customs that he didn't ask who Pavarotti was.

"Oh, shut up. As I was saying, after Wes _rudely_ shot him down, he decided to let him audition for a solo for sectionals-"

"Bipolar, much?"

"Are you going to keep interrupting me?"

"Probably." Charlie answered cheekily.

Blaine knew he would, but kept talking anyway. "So I told him about the audition, and it was so obvious he was excited, and I wanted to help with his song, because he has such an amazing voice and really-"

"You're doing it again." Charlie said, with a roll of his eyes, and then gesturing for Blaine to continue.

"Sorry." Blaine realized he started talking about Kurt before he realized, and probably_ had _driven Charlie half-mad in the past month. "Anyway, it was so obvious that he didn't really want to talk to me, I just said 'sing something good,' but he's so Kurt, I'm worried about what he's going to sing, and whether he'll warm up to the environment of the Warblers, and-"

"I'm going to cut you off right there, because you're being stupid. Even if the boy sings a dumb song, Wes could still give him to solo based on his voice, and change the song. As for avoiding you, you said it yourself, he needs time to adjust, stop smothering him. He's not a baby bird, he can take care of himself. He'll adjust. Promise."

"How is it that, as annoying as you are, you are the only person that knows the exact right thing to say to calm me down?" Blaine asked in wonder.

"Because you either think with too much emotion, or no emotion at all, I'm just perfect!"

"And you're so humble about it." Blaine added sarcastically.

"Funny. So, who did Kurty get to meet today?"

"We had AP Gov, and I think Mr. Bressler scared him, but he likes him so it's okay."

"Wait, Mr. Bressler likes Kurty, or Kurty likes Mr. Bressler? There are too many him's!" Charlie exclaimed dramatically.

"A hazard of going to an all-boys boarding school. And both, to answer your question. So he met Jeff, Drew, Andrew, and he met Thad at break."

"Was he sincerely creeped out that everyone already knew who he was, and his name, and recognized him on sight? Did he find out about your creepy-ass locker picture?" Charlie just enjoyed teasing him, the picture really wasn't _that _creepy.

"Funny. I wasn't there when he first got there. Apparently, though Thad had informed everyone else he was transferring, I was the last to know! And no, he didn't see the picture."

"Did I ever mention how much I love Thad?" Charlie would enjoy that.

"Did I ever mention how much I hate you?" Blaine shot back.

"So, what else were you and our little secret agent up to?" Charlie seemed to be running out of alternate names for Kurt.

"Secret agent, really?" When Charlie just shrugged, Blaine went on. "We had French, which was boring. Michael thankfully saved him from being pranked during lunch, and he, in return, saved me. He did this amazing version of _Defying Gravity _which was just.. wow. We had religion, Stations of the Cross to be exact, and he rolled his eyes. _A lot._ Remind me to talk to Mr. Weatherbie about getting a new lab partner, because Eric is way, _way_ too tactile. Kurt seemed to notice that too, he kept looking at him with.. well I'm not sure what emotion he was feeling. He can be hard to read sometimes. Then, of course, the disastrous Warbler's rehearsal."

"So, not a bad first day. Eric is just a sincerely creepy person, in every single way. And you would fall in love with the only male soprano in the state." Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I'm _not_ in love with Kurt." Blaine interjected.

"Sure, you're not. 'He just needs a mentor right now,' doesn't mean you don't want him. If he's an atheist, he may be my new favorite person."

"He is, because 'I don't believe in a God who doesn't think much of me, or women, or science, and who takes parents away from their children.'" Blaine's eyes looked considerably sadder with that last reason.

"His mom or his dad?" Charlie wasn't stupid, you didn't say that if it was just someone you knew.

"His mom, when he was six."

"Poor baby." As sarcastic as Charlie's tone may sound (Blaine was convinced it was stuck like that), he knew Charlie was actually being sincere.

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe you should actually get some of your math homework done." Charlie suggested after a few minutes of awkward silence. At Blaine's groan he added, "I'll help you."

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?" Blaine really did love Charlie, despite what he might say.

"Oh, I know." Charlie grinned, and proceeded to explain Pre-Calculus to the math-hating boy.

* * *

><p>Considering he had actually left Dalton at 5:30, there wasn't much of a chance of him catching Rachel at school, and he certainly didn't want to just show up at her doorstep. With a sigh, he climbed out of his (gorgeous) baby, and walked up towards the house, fumbling with the key for a moment before opening the door.<p>

"Dad, I'm home!" He yelled out, receiving an answer of "Hey, dude, the 'rents are out.. somewhere," from Finn.

"Why are you back so late?" Finn asked, skipping over the traditional 'how was your day?' "Is that a bird?"

"I had Warblers, I had to get my books, and I had to find my way around the school. It has three academic buildings, and seven different dormitories. And this is Pavarotti, the canary, who is now my responsibility. " Kurt answered, almost automatically heading towards the basement. It would be weird adjusting to the new house, considering his room was going to be upstairs, but they weren't moving until Christmas break. So, for now, he and Finn were sharing a room, but much more successfully this time.

"Dude, stay and chat with me for a bit, it was your first day, you can't have that much homework." Finn was eating, as usual, and watching a sports game Kurt really didn't care about.

"Don't call me dude. I didn't even have classes today, I just shadowed Blaine to get to know the school, and get an idea of what I'm in for." Nevertheless, Kurt sat on the couch with him, leaving his books, bag, and bird on the kitchen counter.

"Sorry, and that sounds cool." Finn offered him some horribly fat- and preservative-filled chips, which Kurt declined.

"It was okay. Dalton is going to be quite the experience." The two lapsed into an awkward silence, forcing Kurt to attempt to pay attention to the game Finn was watching. Basketball. Joy. "So how are things with Rachel?" Kurt asked, hoping the diva would be in a good mood for their chat tomorrow.

"Actually, we're fighting. Again. I don't really want to talk about it." Finn shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, fantastic." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're not going to tell me girls are my problem again, are you?"

"Way to be mature, Finn. And no, if anything, you are girls' problem." With that, Kurt grabbed his stuff and went down to the basement, because if he needed to talk to anyone right now, it was Mercedes, who was probably still ignoring him.

* * *

><p>To his surprise, Mercedes picked up right away, apparently having already given up on being mad at him.<p>

"Hey, bo. Look, I'm sorry for ignoring you. It's just, why didn't you tell me?" Mercedes sounded absolutely miserable, and Kurt's heart broke for his favorite girl. He missed all of his New Direction's friends so much, even though he had only been away from them for two days.

"Honestly, 'Cedes, I really didn't know for more that 20 minutes before I told the club. It was really that last minute. I'm sorry for leaving you all, especially right now, but I couldn't stay at that school for another minute." Kurt was strong, but he couldn't handle the almost predatory looks Karofsky gave him, and murder was... well, not the _least_ of his worries when it came to Karofsky, but it wasn't what he was most afraid of.

"I completely understand. That doesn't prevent me from wanting to rip Karofsky's balls off though."

"He's just confused, Merce. Volatile, but only because he's scared."

"You're not going to explain this to me, are you?" Mercedes' voice was annoyed as anything, and Kurt could picture her picking out clothes with the phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder and one of her hands on her hip. GaGa, he missed his girl.

"Not my secret to tell, Merce."

"Fine, be all secretive, white boy. As long as you're not withholding details about Blaine, I suppose I shall live." Mercedes' voice was teasing now, and he knew the familiar smile spreading over her face as well as he knew his own sarcastic smirk (which, yes, he had practiced in the mirror once. Just once).

"There are no secrets to tell, 'Cedes, I've already said that."

"You can say it all you want, white boy, I have yet to believe you."

"Well, Blaine isn't really my main priority right now. Warblers practice was just horrible today. It was just like New Directions all over again. The council completely controls everything, and my ideas got completely shot down. It was mortifying. To be completely bipolar, they also offered me a solo, and I have no idea what to sing."

"You should sing something about your transfer, about adjusting, or about leaving everyone behind."

"That's actually not a bad idea, though I still have no idea what song it should be."

"That's little miss crazy's area of expertise. I'm here as a shoulder to cry on, and to wrangle details out of you." Kurt almost snorted at the familiar nickname for Rachel. He wasn't sure he had heard Mercedes call the eccentric soprano that since she had broken up with Jesse.

"For the last time! There are no details."

"Sure."

"Speaking of details, how badly has New Directions fallen apart in my absence?" Of course, New Directions falling apart happened almost daily, and would have nothing to do with his absence, but it made him feel more important, the idea that his friends and acquaintances missed him as much as he missed them already.

"Badly. Rachel has gone completely nuts, as usual. I'll just be happy as long as a repeat of last year's Sectionals doesn't happen, though the club may implode before we even get to Sectionals." Somehow, this didn't surprise him.

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea. So, Dalton full of adorable boys?"

"Definitely."

"Care to tell?"

"If I must."

Kurt and Mercedes spent a good two hours on the phone together, discussing boys, Warblers, and Rachel's crazy dramatics (Kurt found it hilarious that she had duct-taped her mouth shut, but he wished it were permanent. Hot glue would work too), before Mr. Jones yelled at Mercedes for monopolizing the house phone, and Mercedes yelled back, saying that's what he got for taking her cell phone, but ultimately hanging up.

* * *

><p>If he thought it was hectic the first day, nothing compared to actually trying to navigate Dalton on his own. He started the day with AP Calc, which he was severely behind in. Also, Mr. Bressler was right, Mrs. Girouard was extremely scary, prim, proper, and obviously very Catholic, but ultimately helpful and a good teacher. He began working on his make-up in class, as he couldn't follow along, and didn't even make a dent in the work or notes during the 80-minute period.<p>

"So, you made it out of AP Calc alive?" was the first thing Thad said to him the next day, slinging an arm around Kurt's shoulders and steering him towards the commons.

"How do you know my schedule?" Kurt had only shown his schedule to Blaine, and mentioned it to Drew.

"The council has everyone's schedule, and room number, and even a copy of most of the keys for Stevenson." At Kurt's confused look, Thad explained. "Stevenson is the Warbler dorm. It's not officially the Warbler's dorm, but we mostly scare everyone else off, so there is only one non-Warbler in Stevenson, and he considers himself an honorary Warbler."

"AP Calc is going to be horrible to catch up in, but I'll manage. McKinley didn't even offer AP Calc, so I'm already impressed." Kurt answered Thad's first question.

"Isn't Mrs. Girouard scary?" Thad asked, depositing Kurt in a chair and sitting down next to him. "Oh, and Kurt, meet the famous Charlie Shields."

Kurt turned to greet the boy, and discovered why Mr. Bressler had called him the most flamboyant boy to walk through his door. Not only did he have a pink faux-hawk, but he was obviously wearing at least mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. His eyebrows were perfectly shaped, and he just gave off an extremely gay vibe, there was really no better way to put it. Reaching out to shake his hand, Kurt was shocked to be pulled into a hug by the other boy, but not before he noticed his fingernails were painted into mini pride flags.

"So this is the famous, failed spy!" Charlie exclaimed cheerfully. "And yes, Thad, Mrs. Girouard is extremely scary." He answered for Kurt, releasing the countertenor.

"Nice to meet you, and does everybody here know me?" he asked, exasperated.

"Yes, pretty much." Charlie said with a grin, meeting his eyes for the first time. Kurt almost gasped at how shockingly green they were and wondered if he wore colored contacts. "How I wonder why." This was directed behind Kurt, and clearly was not a question.

"Hello, Charlie Thad, Kurt," Blaine said with a smile, sitting next to Charlie.

"_You think I'm pretty, without any make-up on, you think I'm funny, when I get the punch line wrong, I know you get me, so I let my walls come down. Dow-ow-own." _Charlie mimicked with a laugh, causing both Kurt and Blaine to blush. The funniest part was the way he said the second 'down,' separating the word into syllables that could be mistaken for howling.

"So, I see you've met Charlie. I apologize," Blaine said to Kurt with a grin.

"You see, Blainey really loves me, but he's afraid to admit it, so he pretends he hates me." With this statement, Charlie flowed into Blaine's lap. Blaine unceremoniously pushed him to the floor. "Yo!"

"Do. Not. Sit. On. Me," he said to the boy, who was unashamedly rubbing his ass and glaring at Blaine.

"Bitch." Charlie murmured before sitting back in his seat.

"Whore," Blaine shot back, shocking Kurt, who had never heard that kind of language from his friend.

"Slut," Charlie replied with a grin, and this was obviously some sort of familiar exchange.

"You wish," Blaine finished with a smile.

"So, since there are three gay boys at this table, and Thad has no shame, I have a question." Wes joined them, obviously planning on embarrassing them.

The boys gathered nodded at him, while Kurt, despite his disgust at the drink, stole Blaine's Gatorade, since his throat was dry.

"So, I was watching One Girl, Five Gays last night." Wes began.

"You would." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, my question is.. spit or swallow?" Thad started laughing, then pounded the choking soprano next to him on the back, as Blaine rolled his eyes at the people he surrounded himself with.

Charlie was the only one who answered. "Swallow," which earned him a roll of the eyes from both Blaine and Thad and a blush from Kurt.

"Blaine?"

"None of your business, Wes." Wes knew better than to bother the tenor about these sorts of things. Blaine was very secretive.

"Kurt?" Kurt just pinked even further, and continued to drink Blaine's Gatorade.

"Leave him alone, Wes." Blaine spoke up.

"Oh, he doesn't have to be such a prude about it, we just want to know." Charlie urged the soprano.

"I-I don't know." Kurt stuttered out.

"Oh My God, you're a virgin? You're a virgin!" Charlie exclaimed. Kurt's blush confirmed it, and as the Warblers turned around to look at him, he dropped his head to the table and grumbled, "Say it louder, Charlie, I don't think the kids at Haverbrook School for the Deaf heard you."

Charlie and Wes cracked up, and Kurt drew his head off the table to glare at them. "I hate you both."

"Welcome to my world." Blaine grinned.

* * *

><p>"Well hello, my little cupcakes," was how Mr. Bressler greeted the class in AP Gov. Switching between buildings took longer than Kurt has expected, and he was slightly late, but Mr. Bressler didn't even bat an eye, and someone had dragged an extra desk into the circle for him. He suspected Thad, as the desk was placed between him and Drew, and he also suspected it was only to tease him for the information they had gleaned earlier during break.<p>

"So, I'm going to teach you a life lesson today. My apologies to Blaine and Kurt, you'll probably never need this, guys are easier to manipulate. The way to get your wife to agree that you need something, in my case a new grill, is to make them believe it is all their see, she started out with a Wii, saying that having one could be a good idea for parties, and it was an excellent workout tool. She's a slight health nut. Not that I don't want a Wii, but the grill was my main priority. Getting on the subject of parties, I suggested that the most important part of a party was the food, not even suggesting the grill. Of course, she then decided that we need a new grill, and allowed me to order it. You see the genius? I'll end up getting the grill _and_ the Wii. It's a win, win _for me_!"

All the guys in the class laughed. Kurt knew girls weren't that easily manipulated however, and knew she would find some even sneakier way to get back at him.

"Now, you've all seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I assume," at the nods, Mr. Bressler went on, "so, what did Janet mean by 'this isn't the Junior Chamber of Commerce, Brad'?" He acted out the voice in a falsetto. "Andrew, go!"

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><p>Spanish III was by far the easiest class of the day. Ms. Dafni, non-existent-great-spaghetti-monster-in-the-sky bless her, simply tested Kurt on his knowledge of Spanish by firing questions at him (it seemed Headmaster Fournier had told her that Kurt was nearly fluent) and deciding he was fit to just jump into the class as is. Michael was in his Spanish class, which was nice, and became his partner for class activities.<p>

"¿Por qué Dalton?" Michael asked haltingly. Ms. Dafni had simply requested they ask each other questions and confide in each other.

"Tenía mis razones. Esta actividad parece bastante fácil para Español III," Kurt answered without hesitation, the language coming to him as if it were his first.

"Lo es. La señorita Dafni algunas veces hace actividades cuando no quiere inventar una Unidad Didáctica. Es fácil conseguir una A en esta clase si te puedes enseñar a ti mismo," Michael answered well, tripping slightly over his words a few times.

"Me agrada la señorita Dafni," Kurt said.

"A la mayoría le agrada, es muy simpática," Michael said, smiling to show he hadn't meant his comment in a negative way.

"¿Cuál es exactamente el punto de esta lección?" Kurt asked.

"No tengo idea," Michael answered with a grin.

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><p>Since the Warblers only had practice every other day, Kurt hurried to McKinley in order to find Rachel. Reaching the school at about 3:30, and having broken many speeding laws, Kurt knew she would be in the auditorium practicing. He sat in his car for over an hour waiting for Karofsky to leave before going into the school to find Rachel.<p>

Regardless of Karofsky's departure, he hurried to the auditorium to avoid any jocks, entering onto the stage, and, thankfully, Rachel was there, tapping the piano in no semblance of a song.

"Hey, Rachel, I've been looking for you." Naturally, before the countertenor could state his reasons, Rachel interrupted him.

"Now, don't bother spying on me to get a leg-up, because the only solos that I'm getting for Sectionals are in my mind." Rachel sounded sad, and it was perhaps a little unfair that she feel melancholy, since she had pushed so many other people away from solos, but Kurt ignored this.

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me. I've been sitting in my car for over an hour, waiting for Karofsky to make a Mickey Dee's run," not that he knew that's where Karofsky was going, but it sounded characteristic of him. "I've been invited to audition for a solo."

"Why should I help you? I mean, you're our competition now." Kurt knew he could appeal to Rachel's nature as a diva and a friend.

"Because even though we hate each other, we've had our moments, and I could use your expertise, and no one knows how to kill a ballad quite like you. You are as brilliant and talented as you are irritating." Perhaps not the best thing to say, but Kurt could see that he had Rachel hooked.

"Considering that this might be my only chance to sing for a little while," trust Rachel to make this about herself, "I'll give you a couple tips. So what did you, uh, have in mind?"

"I've settled on Celine Dion's classic _My Heart Will Go On._" Kurt didn't add that he had asked Mercedes for help before he had come to Rachel.

Barely after he had finished getting the word's out, Rachel was turning him down. "Oh, no. No, no, no."

"No?" he asked confused, though Rachel continued talking.

"See, you need something much more personal than that. I mean this is about _you._ Do you ever fantasize about your own funeral?"

"No." Who did that?

"I do." Of course. Rachel. "Finn throwing himself into the grave out of grief and all of the heartfelt speeches and the regrets."

"That's insane." It really was, and blunt honesty had worked for Kurt before.

Rachel continued anyway. "Clearly, no one in the Glee Club appreciates me. Is it so wrong for me to fantasize about them finally realizing how amazing I am, but it being too late? And there's only one song that expresses those feelings. I'm sure that it's in here somewhere." Seeing her scroll down to _Evita_, it occurred to Kurt.

"Oh." Sometimes Rachel really was a genius. Of course, she also insisted on singing it for him, as if he hadn't heard many versions of the song before, even climbing up to the balcony over the auditorium in true _Evita_ fashion. However, he could see what she meant by the emotions being expressed, and some of the song fit Rachel's situation with trying to change as well. Plus, she did truly have a beautiful voice, when singing songs that fit it. Now, the only real question was if the Warblers would like it, and he wouldn't find that out until tomorrow.

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><p><strong>AN:** **The show is contradicts itself sometimes, because Kurt told Finn his mom died 10 years ago, and Burt said it's been 8 years. So I chose 10. I'm going to assume, for the intentions of timing, that Dalton does not have a football team. I love the scene I used last. Rachel is so crazy sometimes. I had to split up their singing, in order for my writing to be coherent, but I liked this chapter over all. Also, I got a Spanish translator, because my Spanish sucks.  
><strong>

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE.  
><strong>


	4. Solos

**A/N: I listened to Kurt's version of 'Don't Cry for Me, Argentina' on repeat the whole time I was writing this chapter. It was quite helpful. I also watched the video, pausing every few seconds to catch movement or a facial expression. It was quite a long process. Someone on LiveJournal pointed out my lack of people-descriptions, so I decided to change that. Cue Mercedes!**

**I skipped over those that are actual characters, like Wes, David, Thad, and Jeff. I also made Andrew the character that gave him a high-five in the hallway, and Kendrick the character that gave him a high five on his way into the first Warblers practice; the one who makes all the clicking sounds in **_**Bills, Bills, Bills.**_** Read on!**

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><p>Kurt was never quite as nervous to sing as he was when he was auditioning for his Warbler's solo. The entire day had completely passed in a blur, and if he had learned anything, he wouldn't have remember it. Though he had loved <em>Evita<em> for a while, and he knew every word and note to _Don't Cry for Me Argentina _by heart, he still found himself worried about blanking due to stage-fright. Since when had he developed stage fright. And while Rachel truly knew ballads and song selection, he wasn't sure how his rather out there and original voice would fit with the traditional and structured Warblers. There was only one way to know.

_It won't be easy, you'll think it strange  
>when I try to explain how I feel<br>that I still need your love after all that I've done  
><em>

_You won't believe me  
>All you will see is a girl you once knew<br>although she's dressed up to the nines  
>at sixes and sevens with you<em>

Kurt began staring out the window, as if he were truly addressing a crowed of his loving people on the Dalton courtyard below. He had debated with Rachel on changing the gender, but decided to keep it as traditional as he could, and that was really the only times it was mentioned. Kurt didn't dare to look at the reactions of the Warblers yet.

_I had to let it happen  
>I had to change<br>Couldn't stay all my life down at heel  
>Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun<em>

Kurt decided that was an appropriate line to move away from the window, and faced the council for the first time since he had started singing.

_So I chose freedom  
>Running around, trying everything new,<br>but nothing impressed me at all  
>I never expected it to<em>

Blaine was looking on with approval and admiration at the moment, and Wes and Thad were smiling, but David still had a blank look on his face, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

_Don't cry for me Argentina  
>The truth is I never left you<br>All through my wild days  
>my mad existence<br>I kept my promise_

_Don't keep your distance_

Blaine was smiling at him encouragingly, and the rest of the Warbler's were looking on in interest, or, in the case of the other two Warblers auditioning for the solo, jealous.

_Don't cry for me Argentina_

On that line, Kurt started to lift his hands, the same way he would before singing 'you won't bring me down!' but Blaine quickly gestured for him to keep his hands down. Apparently, the only choreography of any sort the Warblers did was turns and side-steps. Nevertheless, he continued strongly.

_The truth is I never left you  
>All through my wild days<br>my mad existence  
>I kept my promise<br>Don't keep your distance_

_Have I said too much?  
>There's nothing more I can think of to say to you<br>All you have to do is look at me to know  
>that every word is true!<em>

Blaine looked more worried as the bridge went on, and Kurt, desperate for some sort of movement, instead of standing there resisting the urge to wring his hands, moved slowly over towards the window. Kurt couldn't resist the urge to let his hand rise on that last note, starting lower than traditional, and slowly building his way up to the high note. The Warblers were all clapping and smiling, and Kurt knew in that moment that his audition had been a success.

* * *

><p>Sitting on the bench outside the practice room with the very nervous Nick and Jeff, Kurt felt sorry for them, knowing he had been better than both of them. Breaking the awkward, tension-filled silence, Kurt asked "So how many times have you guys auditioned?"<p>

Nick answered three, Jeff answered six, and Kurt whistled, feeling worse now that he had upstaged them so completely.

"Hey guys." Blaine walked out in his normal confident manner, but seemed slightly off, talking too fast for it to be normal. "Nick, Jeff, congrats, you're moving on." Kurt looked up at the boys in a mirror of the jealously he believed of them as they hugged and walked back into the practice room.

Feeling upset, but not overly so, and slightly confused, Kurt asked Blaine, "Any sage advice?"

Hesitating for a moment, and walking over towards Kurt, Blaine responded, "Don't try so hard next time."

Kurt boiled with anger. All of his life he'd had to scream in order to be noticed, or seen, or heard, or _understood_. He was amazingly talented, and he knew it, but he always tried his hardest, and the idea of that being a bad thing both annoyed him and.. frightened him even. Dalton was so much more different than he'd ever imagined. He stuck out and he was special, uniforms be damned. He was Kurt Hummel and _nobody_ could put him down. Having to adopt a whole different mindset was not a condition of transferring to Dalton that he had expected.

Before the grand speech he planned spilled out in anger, Kurt gave Blaine a chance, because he looked up the boy. "I didn't know that caring was frowned upon." Kurt responded, slightly sharply.

"I don't know how it worked at your old school, but did you notice that we all wear uniforms around here? It's about being part of the team." Kurt immediately felt bad for his mental outburst, even though Blaine hadn't known about it. How many times had he told Rachel that she needed to work to think of herself as part of the team, and not focus everything around herself? Too many to count.

"I guess I'm just used to having to scream to get noticed." Kurt admitted, feeling slightly sheepish, but certainly not showing it.

"You're not going to make it as a Warbler if all you care about is getting noticed." Replace 'Warbler' with 'friend' or 'teammate' and he had said the exact same to Rachel before. What she said after the duets competition was true, they had a lot in common.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Kurt said, both for the words Blaine had heard and those he hadn't.

"I know it's going to take some getting used to, but you'll fit in soon enough. I promise." As kind as those words were, it didn't make Kurt feel any better. The idea of fitting in was foreign to him, he had always stood out and, despite the occasional unfortunate consequences of his flamboyance, he enjoyed doing so. He, Kurt realized, was an attention whore. He immediately felt terrible.

* * *

><p>"Mercy, I messed everything up. I'm in way over my head. Help?"<p>

"Hold on, white boy. First, _please _tell me you did not sleep with Blaine."

"What!" Kurt exclaimed, nearly falling off his bed. He had called Mercedes as soon as he had gotten down to the sanctity of his basement. "Where in the world would you get that idea?"

"Think over your first statement, and see why I would think that." Upon reflection, Kurt realized he may not have phrased his confusion in the best way.

"Okay, you're right, as always. That's not what I meant. I auditioned for the solo today and I didn't get it because I was 'trying too hard.' Blaine said it was all about being 'uniform,' 'fitting in,' and being 'part of the team.' These are completely foreign concepts to me, Merce!"

"Hold up. You scared me half to death, over _Glee Club nonsense_? Or is this about the Blaine aspect of it?"

"It's about being uniform 'Cedes. I don't know how to do that. I'm special, and I'm different, and I like to show it off. I'm not another privileged Dalton robot, but that's what they're trying to make me into!"

"They cannot take away the fabulousness that is Kurt Hummel, no matter how hard they try." Mercedes would scorn him on being egotistical, except she knew that was a flaw she also had herself, so she didn't comment. "Maybe, and this is just a maybe, tuning it down a little could be good for you? Help you keep control of the diva, so to speak?"

"You make being a diva sound like being a demon, 'Cedes." Kurt knew if he said 'the devil' they would get into religion again, and that was one path neither of them wanted to go down again. Their friendship might not survive it.

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes you need to reign it in a little, for the good of everyone. Just think about it," Mercedes continued, cutting off Kurt's attempts to protest, "and tell me some more about this school you go to."

"And by school, you mean the boys within it, naturally?" Kurt asked dryly, knowing he would get no more seriousness from Mercedes that night. She had probably had a bad day, poor girl. surrounded by the craziness that was the New Directions all alone.

"Naturally."

"Who in particular?"

"Well thanks to your extremely creepy locker picture, I know what Blaine looks like, and Rachel showed up pictures of the council online, so how about Charlie?"

"Charlie is the gayest person you could ever hope to meet. He's actually pretty good looking, but I kind of got the vibe that's he's a slut, like a Santana-level whore. He has a pink faux-hawk, tanned, but not overly tanned, skin, meshing well with his pink hair. His eyes are a brilliant green, but they are set slightly too far apart. He's really good at using make-up to disguise that, though. His nose is straight and narrow, his upper lip slightly fuller than his lower, with a slighter Cupid's bow. He wears make-up daily, usually just foundation, you can totally tell from his lack of freckles, mascara and eyeliner, cleverly used to disguise how wide-set his eyes are, and lip gloss, darker on the bottom, to slightly even out his lips. He's about an inch shorter than me at about 5'9" and he's pretty much a stick, though he's not emaciated or anything."

"Wow, that was a scarily detailed description. Spent a lot of time observing him much?" Mercedes teased, knowing that wasn't the case.

"No, I just notice these things." And it was true, he had only seen Charlie once the day before, and had no idea how many times he might have seen him that day, yet all these details automatically came to him.

"I wouldn't believe you, if I didn't know you. How about Michael? You mentioned him."

"Straight, but a cute blond. His hair is long and curly, but mostly stays close to his head, curls always sweeping over his forehead, around his ears, and at the back of his neck. You can see it curls by the way it lays against his head. It's hard to describe, but he's gorgeous. His eyes are mostly blue, but have little flecks of green in them. His lips are a perfect double curve, and his nose is wider but no less straight. He has a soccer player's body with strong, but not overly muscular, arms and legs, and a flat, hard torso with a set of broad shoulders. He's very masculine and extremely hot."

"Are we falling back to our habit of checking out straight guys?" Mercedes asked, half teasingly, half concerned.

"No. He's hot, but I'm not interested. Plus, the philosophy of every 'straight' boy at Dalton is 'I'm straight, but shit happens,'" Kurt said with a smile.

"You are not to be a straight guy's experiment, understand?" Mercedes said in a no-nonsense tone.

"Of course not, 'Cedes! Would I ever demean myself in such a way?" Kurt asked, mock-offended.

"Do you recall the decoration incident?" Mercedes, though angry at Finn for using _that_ word, had sympathized slightly, as Kurt did have a tendency to be overly flamboyant sometimes.

"Funny," Kurt said dryly.

"So, what's Blaine's lab partner look like? Since you seem so dead-set on hating him, I might as well know."

"I have my reasons for hating Lucifer. He's a tactile creeper, and he gives off strange vibes. Plus, he's so deep in the closet he's finding Christmas presents. Anyway, he has short, black hair, which may or may not be natural, black is always the hardest color to tell with. Blue eyes, cold as Coach Sylvester's heart, a skinny face and sort of super-villain-stereotypical nose, long with a slight hook downwards. Skinny and pale, though not as pale as I am. Pretty much a comic-book villain in every way possible." Kurt listed, adding as much personal bias to each feature as he possibly could without giving Mercedes inaccurate information.

"In case you can't tell from my tone, I'm rolling my eyes. Could you be any more biased? Rhetorical question." Mercedes sighed, and it came in as a rush of static. "I should go, white boy, I have homework, and you probably do to." Mercedes hung up without a goodbye, leaving Kurt to wonder what he had done wrong.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't have another chance to talk to Blaine about the news he had heard at lunch until after school, since he had his classes with Blaine first and third periods. Apparently, neither Nick nor Jeff had gotten the solo, but <em>Blaine<em>, who hadn't even auditioned had. They were doing _Hey, Soul Sister_ (Kurt had tried not to gag at the overly-popular but meaningless song). No one had seemed surprised either, not even Nick and Jeff, who had offered Blaine congratulations. What was going on here?

"Hey, Blaine. Wait up." Kurt hadn't really talked to Blaine since after his failed attempt at the solo for Sectionals yesterday, and he knew Blaine thought he was mad at the tenor. So Blaine stopped immediately and turned in surprise at the sound of Kurt's voice, almost causing Kurt to run into him.

"Hey. I thought you were mad at me," Blaine said, surprised into speaking his mind clearly for once.

"No. I was otherwise occupied. Sorry," Kurt apologized quickly, before diving into the heart of the matter. "Why did the council give you the solo for Sectionals? You didn't even audition."

"I suppose the council thought I would sing their chosen song best. They have the right to choose whomever they please, though I believe the winner of the competition was Jeff," Blaine said, as if solos being stolen out from under other people's feet was an ordinary, everyday matter.

"So, why did they even hold auditions?" Kurt asked, partially annoyed that he had even less of a shot then he had known previously, and partially annoyed on Nick and/or Jeff's behalf.

"To listen to new voices of the group, and see whether someone could impress them enough to replace my as first soloist on _Hey, Soul Sister_," Blaine replied calmly.

"Nick said he had auditioned three times, and Jeff said he had auditioned six times. Did you take all those solos from them then?" Kurt demanded, perhaps a little harshly, of his friend.

"Kurt, the council decides who gets the solos. Jeff and Nick both know that the possibility of them getting a solo while I'm here is not great. But in the future they could, and that's why they audition." Blaine shrugged, as if it were no big deal. Well, it was a big deal to Kurt.

"As amazing as your vocals are," Kurt began with the understatement of the century, "it still seems a bit unfair to them, to audition, and know that no matter how good they are, they're not going to get the solo."

"Kurt, there is a possibility of them getting the solo. The council simply decided my voice was better for this song. They had already been arranging the harmonies around my key, and Sectionals are on Saturday," Blaine said, both excitedly and dismissively.

"It still seems a bit weird, but I suppose it's another one of those things I will have to get used to. I know you'll be fantastic at Sectionals. I should get home. See you tomorrow." Kurt, on an impulse, gave the tenor a quick hug and then walked away, whistling the obnoxious song under his breath to keep his harmonies straight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next stop, Sectionals! I decided to end this chapter here, because I didn't want to have to split up Sectionals, and it would have ended up about 10 thousand words. **

**Reviews are love, and make writing faster. **


	5. Sectionals Weekend, Part I

**A/N: Here it is, Sectionals! I split this into two parts, and the other isn't quite done, but I'll post this today. Read on.**

* * *

><p>"Then go down to 7-11 and get some. I need Raisinets!" Of course, the moment Kurt found Rachel, backstage at Sectionals after the Warblers' small and successful rehearsal, she was busy screaming at someone for a reason that probably wasn't important.<p>

"Carb loading?" Kurt asked, mostly as a joke, because eating directly before going on stage was one of the worst things a performer could do. Though, the thought of Rachel blowing chunks on stage would have been pretty amusing the year before, he didn't find it as entertaining now that she had been so nice to him recently.

"Puck got Lauren Zizes to take your place and she won't go on unless she gets her damn candy." Kurt raised his eyebrows because really, _Lauren Zizes,_ it couldn't at least have been a guy? Even if it was that pathetic excuse for a human Jacob Ben Israel. "She's a warm body." Rachel explained with a slight grimace. "Hey, did you, ah, get your solo?" Rachel was honestly concerned for someone other than herself for once. Wow.

"Sadly, no."

"Oh, wow, if you didn't get the solo then they must be really good, we are doomed." And Rachel Berry, self-centered superstar, has returned. "Sorry, that was selfish. What I meant to say was, wow, that really sucks, I'm.. I'm sure you were really good." It wasn't until this moment Kurt realized how much Rachel stuttered when she was trying to watch what she said.

"I was." Kurt realized than how much that sounded like Rachel. "I mean, I think I was. Being in the Warblers has really made me question everything I thought about myself." Well, not _everything_. He was still Kurt Hummel, and still fabulous, but his opinions on his voice, clothes, and attitude had taken some major blows in the last five days. Maybe he needed a little bit of an ego-deflation.

"Uh, yeah, God, what has become of us, Kurt?" By some unspoken decision, they both sat down at the candy bar at the same time. "So, do you miss us?"

"I do." He had missed them more than he could possibly say, so he went with the simple answer. Rachel really was pretty when she gave an honest, non-showbiz smile. "Being a Warbler is great, but I don't think they appreciate my individuality as much as you guys did, and I can't help but think that I let you guys down." Not, of course, that he would have actually gotten the proposed solo Mr. Schue had mentioned directly before his transfer, it was probably a pity offer, but he _had_ left them short in numbers and he felt bad about it.

"It's your life, Kurt, and you weren't safe at McKinley anymore, and we all get it." Kurt wondered if Rachel would have been this understanding had she known about Blaine before he transferred. Doubtful. He loved the girl, but she was annoying paranoid since the Jesse fiasco.

"How come you were never this nice to me when I was your teammate?" Or ever before now, for that matter.

In true and dramatic Rachel fashion, she leaned forward to answer, as if they were planning a conspiracy. "Because you were my only real competition," which wasn't necessarily true, she underestimated Mercedes and Santana, but was flattering all the same.

"True," Kurt said with a laugh, making Rachel laugh as well.

When he thought about it, truly and honestly thought about it with no bias, he and Rachel really were similar. Lonely divas attempting to climb their way to the top from the pits of Lima, Ohio. Both were melodramatic, and could be irritating, but both were also sweet. Self-centered they may be, but only because they are so determined and focused on their one and only goal, center stage. The two of them were also a little bit boy-crazy, no matter how much both of them would deny it, and they clearly had similar taste in guys (except Jesse. Kurt would never understand Jesse). With that in mind, Kurt returned Rachel's hug, and a little 'aw' noise escaped him.

Sitting back down from where he had half-stood to hug Rachel, Kurt carefully breached the topic of Rachel and Finn's fight as though he was completely clueless. "So how's Finn? I feel bad. I haven't spoken to him since the wedding." Well, it was a tiny lie really, nothing of a true conversation had happened between the now brothers. As sweet as the best man speech had been, Finn had been nothing but awkward since the wedding.

"I-I haven't really talked to him much either. I found out that he and Santana were romantically involved and he lied to me about it." Wait, how did she not know that?

"Wait, you didn't know about that?" The bell that would ultimately disrupt their conversation had rung, but he couldn't believe Rachel hadn't known. Everyone else knew. Mercedes had told him, Quinn had told Mercedes, and either Puck or Brittany had told Quinn, both of whom would have gotten it straight from Santana.

"Kurt, they're calling places." Blaine tapped him lightly on the shoulder, effectively ending their conversation, though by the look Rachel gave Blaine, he had a feeling there would be a much different conversation between the two later.

Blaine said a soft "Hey" to Rachel as Kurt got up with a "Thanks again, Rachel," and left, heading backstage to be in place when it was time to be a Warbler.

* * *

><p>Rachel and the rest of New Directions had to make a quick change into costume before they headed out to take their seats. They had, once again, drawn performance slot #3, with the Hipsters going first, followed by Kurt and the Warblers. Rachel was a little later than the rest and had to awkwardly walk by Finn, who seemed frozen by the action until Mr. Schue pushed him back down into his seat.<p>

It wasn't to say the Hipsters weren't good, but they were a stool choir, just as Mr. Schue had said, and their vocals were only so-so. Rachel was confident that they could beat the Hipsters with their mouths taped shut, especially with the dance moves Mike and Brittany had planned. Mike had forbid the other from being at their rehearsals (which probably had contributed to the idea that they were having an affair), and Rachel couldn't find a way around his order, but she knew they would be fantastic. She had faith in their dancing, even if they weren't the best singers. Their only real competition was the Warblers, and Rachel had to wonder who had gotten the solo in the place of Kurt.

When the Hipsters were finished, everybody clapped, and a few people brushed away tears, but there was no standing ovation. Now, it was showtime. "And now, for our second performance of the program, from Dalton Academy in Westerville, the Warblers."

The a cappella accompaniment as they started was impressive, and then Rachel saw they had gathered around a short, dark-haired boy, the one who had called Kurt to places, obviously the soloist who had beaten out Kurt, though Rachel couldn't see why. While said-soloist had a traditionally magnificent voice, Kurt's voice was one-in-a-billion, and Kurt did not deserve to be put in the background and sing harmonies.

Kurt seemed to agree with Rachel's assessment, if his eyes and facial expression were an indication. He looked like he was in pain, _agoni__zing_ pain. It probably didn't help that Kurt hated this song, and the soloist, whom she had decided to name Hobbit, seemed to be singing part of it directly to him. Rachel nodded along politely, but hated the look in Kurt's eyes as he side-stepped along with the Warblers. He looked stiffer than the rest, uncomfortable without real choreography, but seemed to get slightly more into the song with the chorus.

Rachel knew from experience that simply standing and singing without movement was not pleasant, so perhaps it was the added movement that allowed the first bit of life into Kurt's body and expression. Nevertheless, he needed someone to cheer him up, so when Kurt's eyes locked with hers, she put on a show face and mouthed 'smile' gesturing to a large grin with her hands.

There, that was better. Kurt looked marginally happy, and decidedly less stiff, but Rachel could tell he was still upset. She knew performers, and they could deceive everyone but other performers. Rachel's thoughts left Kurt for a moment as Hobbit sang '_I'm so gangsta, I'm so thug,'_ because not only did his face twist horribly in an attempt to make what seemed to be a 'tough face' but he added a dorky, obviously spontaneous dance move, and it did nothing whatsoever to help the performance. Rachel had to resist the urge to laugh.

It was obvious everything was done to draw attention to Hobbit, he was far in front of the others, and had a brighter spotlight, but no one from New Directions could take their eyes off Kurt. Most people looked amused and happy with the performance, but Puck for some reason looked angry, and Mr. Schue looked like he had been possessed by a very angry and constipated demon.

The Warblers ended in the same position they had started in, and, despite her disgust with the performance, Rachel was the first person to stand up in support of Kurt, followed by Mercedes, then the rest of New Directions, and finally the rest of the crowd in general. A genuine smile graced Kurt's face when he saw the efforts his friends made to give them a standing ovation, and he looked guilty, as if some part of him believed he had let them down.

* * *

><p>Now it was Kurt's turn to watch New Directions from the auditorium seats. Kurt had appreciated Rachel's efforts to make him feel more at home among the Warblers, their stiff stage presence, and awkward lack-of-movement. She <em>did<em> start the standing ovation after all. He knew he had to do the same to help the New Directions, to cheer on his friends and family.

"And now, for our final performance of the program, from McKinley High, the New Directions!"

As usual, the balladeers came out from the back, but Kurt was really surprised when it was Sam who was the male lead, though Kurt didn't particularly like his voice for this song. This was an inconvenient song for a show choir because the male part was lower than most teenagers could go. Quinn, however, sounded ethereal and perfect, and their voices blended well together. Despite their brother and sister appearance, they certainly had the chemistry Rachel and Finn had never quite perfected, with the added bonus of less eye-sex.

The song was typical of Mr. Schuester, a classic from a 70s movie. The rest of the club had surprisingly Warbler-like background harmonies, but it sounded incredible. While he didn't particularly like the bow on Quinn's dress, he had to admit it was probably the best way to tie together their outfits, while still being subtle.

New Directions did what no other club competing could do or had done. Real, partnered choreography, and the dancing was above the usual standard, but still completely Finn-proofed. They looked amazing, and _happy_ despite everything Mercedes and Rachel had told him earlier. Kurt was the first to stand up at the end of the ballad, clapping and cheering, followed by most of the rest of the crowd. Kurt was a little disappointed, however, that they had made Mercedes do the ending belts, as always. Some things never changed.

The next song was even more of a surprise. A more upbeat song, that Kurt didn't recognize, but it had to be modern, and it looked as though Mr. Schue had finally learned to take a hint about choosing songs the club liked as well. Kurt also didn't miss Brittany give Santana a slight slap on the butt, and wondered if he had missed anything on the Brittana (the name the rest of the club had anointed Santana and Brittany's romance with sophomore year) front. Santana took the lead vocals, with the rest of New Directions do-whopping behind her, and she was phenomenal. Her voice fit the song perfectly, a million times better than Rachel could have done with that particular song.

The best part was Mike and Brittany absolutely tearing up the stage with amazing dancing and incredible tricks, earning them several loud cheers and stealing the spotlight from Santana who stood to one side. Brittany and Mike were both just made to dance, every single move looked better on them, no matter how simple it was. The girls had more complicated choreography than the guys, if only because of Finn, but it fit, with the unequal ratio and with Santana strutting all around the stage. It was like no other number New Directions had ever done, and Kurt knew the moment they finished that they had won. The crowd all rose at the same time, no prodding needed, and the club looked like a family again. Ignoring the pained ache that last thought caused, Kurt readied himself for the results.

* * *

><p>Kurt and the Warblers took a place between the Hipsters (on stage right) and the New Directions (on stage left). Kurt threw Mercedes a little wink as she leaned forward to wink at him, standing in the front row between the council and Blaine.<p>

"And now, this year's head judge, associate director of the Ohio Department of Motor Vehicles, Mr. Pete Sudznowsky." The usual polite clapping. Kurt wondered who the judges were, he'd been so busy trying to find Rachel that he hadn't been there for their announcement.

"Thank you. And thank you to all the groups who performed here today. We all had a serious," Kurt exchanged a look with Blaine at the awkward pause, "good time. You know what else is a serious good time? Taking two minutes to save a life, by filling out an organ donor card. Because it's never too late to don-ate." Everyone clapped politely at the lame joke.

"Drum roll, please. In third place, the Hipsters. Thank you, drive carefully." They all clapped politely, and the Hipsters got their little consolation trophy, and then it was time for the real showdown.

"And now, the winner of this year's West-Central Sectionals is... it's a tie." Kurt was absolutely shocked. As good as the Warblers were, they weren't anywhere near the caliber of the New Directions' performance, as treasonous as the thought seemed. "Congratulations, you're all going to the Regionals." Everyone clapped and cheered excitedly, and Blaine walked up to shake Mr. Schue's hand, exchanging pleasantries. Kurt saw the expression on Rachel's face after she hugged Finn quickly, and worried for his friend's sanity. He saw Rachel say something (Finn was facing the wrong way, damn him), and mentally growned.

Despite his qualms about their unequal performances, he was glad neither his friends nor his team would be left out of the race here. Someone said something about them getting a trophy at a later date, and just like that, it was over, and yet so much worse. Now, he and the Warblers could be the only thing holding back the New Directions from going to Nationals.

* * *

><p>The bus ride back to Dalton was fun. Wes, David, Thad, Blaine, and Charlie, who had come along on the bus but sat in the auditorium in normal clothes, randomly broke out into so many different songs on the way first half of the bus ride that Kurt lost count. He had gotten special permission from his father and from the headmaster to stay at Dalton for the weekend to celebrate the victory (or defeat, he supposed, but the headmaster had seemed sure it would be a victory).<p>

Apparently, someone, somewhere, _hated_ him, because naturally, Blaine had an empty bed in his room. Charlie had informed him that his last roommate had mysteriously vanished and never reappeared after he once used up the last of Blaine's hair gel, which had earned him a smack upside the head from Blaine.

"Well, you really do use too much hair gel," Kurt said with a grin, knowing from previous experience that it bothered Blaine when people picked on his hair.

"Says the boy who created his own personal hole in the ozone layer with all the hairspray he uses," Blaine shot back.

"It's organic." Kurt knew Blaine would have nothing to say to that.

"Win!" Charlie yelled loudly before seeming to be struck be a realization. "You get to see Blainey's hair normal for the first time. All the gel usually wears off at night, I feel so bad for his pillow." Kurt and Charlie laughed and Blaine pouted.

Just then, a very punch-drunk Michael swung himself into Kurt's lap singing "_If I could write you a song to make you fall in love, I would already have you up under my arm, I used up all of my tricks, I hope that you like this, but you probably won't, you think you're cooler than me._" Getting up off Kurt's lap and proceeding to act out the lyrics while pacing up and down the aisle, narrowly avoiding the pieces of paper and clothing being thrown around. Yes, clothing, thankfully only shirts. "_You got designer shades just to hide your face and you wear 'em around like you're cooler than me, and you never say 'hey' or remember my name and it's probably 'cause you think you're cooler than me. You got your high brow shoes on your feet and you wear 'em around like it ain't shit, but you don't know the way that you look when your steps make that much noise, sh."_ With that he turned around and stared to go bother other Warblers. Blaine just laughed at his expression and started again with the Katy Perry.

_There's a stranger in my bed  
>There's a pounding in my head<br>Glitter all over the room  
>Pink flamingos in the pool<em>

_I smell like a mini bar  
>DJ's passed out in the yard<br>Barbie's on the barbecue  
>There's a hickey or a bruise<em>

At this point the Warblers had joined in with the accompaniment, and, since there was clearly no escape from the madness for today, Kurt joined along in the lyrics with Blaine, singing in Katy Perry's key, because it was much easier.

_Pictures of last night  
>Ended up online<br>I'm screwed  
>Oh well!<em>

_It's a blacked out blur  
>But I'm pretty sure it ruled<br>Damn!_

The Warblers had given up on their tradition and their manners now in the heat of the celebration, and were happily swearing and singing along, forgetting all attempts at proper accompaniment. What Kurt didn't expect was for Blaine to pull him up on the bus seat with him, almost toppling them both over, and singing right to him.

_Last Friday night  
>Yeah, we danced on tabletops<br>And we took to many shots  
>Think we kissed but I forgot<em>

Blaine pulled the most innocent oops! face, which didn't really fit with the song, but was too adorable for Kurt to care. He may have melted and forgot the words, a little.

_Last Friday night  
>Yeah, we maxed our credit cards<br>And got kicked out of the bar  
>So we hit the boulevard<em>

_Last Friday night  
>We went streaking in the park<br>Skinny-dipping in the dark  
>Then had a menage a trois<em>

Hearing 'skinny-dipping' and 'menage a trois' from the uptight Dalton boys was too much for Kurt to bear, and so he hopped off the seat and headed towards the cooler area at the back of the bus. A bunch of punch-drunk, unrestrained teenage boys filled with performance adrenaline could be a very amusing scene, as they were now, but they were also quite sweaty and the bus had become hot and slightly smelly.

_Last Friday night  
>Yeah, I think we broke the law<br>Always say we're gonna stop-op  
>Whoa-oh This Friday night!<em>

The classy, well-mannered, and ever so wholesome Dalton boys stopped there since everybody was laughing too hard to really sing.

* * *

><p>"The fact that you know all those words,<em> by heart<em>, scares me a little, to be honest," Kurt told Blaine when he joined him in the back corner of the bus, where it was cooler and (slightly) quieter.

"You know how much I love Katy Perry," Blaine said with a smile, pumped up enough to be less restrained, but not quite as crazy as the other boys were. He had more self control, Kurt assumed. "Though I have to say in this case, I may like Shane Dawson's spoof better."

The Warblers had started in on 'Fireflies,' with Kendrick taking the lead vocals, and the other boys managing to somehow create great accompaniment, despite their over-excitement.

"I never thought I'd live to hear that," Kurt joked easily, more at ease with his friend than with the other Warblers.

"Well, I may just have to kill you now," Blaine joked back in a fake-menacing tone.

"By the way, please do us all a favor and never, ever, try to pull spontaneous dance moves again. If I wasn't such a professional, I would have been laughing so hard. You, my friend, are not a dancer, stick to our robotic choreography," Kurt added in a joking tone, but it was true criticism.

"What? I'm so a dancer. You guys just don't appreciate my talent." Blaine sniffed.

"Says the boy who gets every solo," Kurt added.

"Jealous much?" Blaine asked, smirking slightly.

"I was joking, Blaine, but please never try to dance again," Kurt said, in all seriousness.

"I'm an amazing dancer. Just look at these moves." With that, Blaine stood up and started in on the dorkiest dance he could think of, including the forever-mocked cabbage patch and the type of barely-out-of-the-90s style dancing expected of Hilary Duff videos. Kurt cracked up, his head thumping lightly against the window as he laughed uncontrollably.

* * *

><p>Hot water showers absolutely warmed you to your soul, Kurt decided, stepping out of the shower. He wasn't sure if he hated or loved Charlie for suggesting he stay with Blaine, despite the fact that there were many completely empty rooms. He knew, though, that he definitely could, and would, make fun of Blaine for the amount of hair gel on his bathroom counter.<p>

Wrapping a towel around his waist, and beginning an abridged version of his moisturizing routine with the supplies he had brought the day before, Kurt thought back on the performance. Being on stage with the Warblers wasn't comfortable, he didn't belong there, and it had been even worse watching his _family's_ amazing performance from the stands. As traitorous as it may be, Kurt knew the Warblers hadn't been as good as New Directions, and didn't deserve to tie. He also knew that Blaine's vocals were the only thing now standing between New Directions and Nationals.

Blaine had told him that the Ohio Show Choir Board shifted boundaries for the competitions, due to the fluctuating number of teams. They would be competing against Aural Intensity at Regionals, because they had won their Sectional last weekend, according to a 'friend' of Charlie's. Vocal Adrenaline would be competition for Nationals, Kurt was sure of it. He had also learned a little more about the Warblers' history. Not the serious, decades-old history Wes spewed to support their traditions, but how the Warblers had been revamped by Blaine's transfer. Vocal Adrenaline had been in their Sectional for the last two years, and creamed them rather spectacularly, each time.

The only thing Blaine really refused to talk about was his own personal history, and Kurt was determined to change that this weekend. He had told Blaine more about Karofsky and the bullying than he had told anyone else. He had talked about his mom and his early life, his relationship with his dad (including the humiliating incident with Brittany), how he felt about Carole, and _all_ of his past with Finn, embarrassing as it was. Blaine advised, sympathized, and listened without judging, but refused to share the same kind of information.

Finishing his routine, he packed up his supplies, and placed his bag back on Blaine's extra bed. Kurt had been pleased to discover that, while the dorm rooms were nice and had plenty of space, much better than most college dorms, the dorm buildings themselves were less extravagant than the rest of the school, though they were well-laid out, with a full kitchen and living areas.

The boys themselves were also more relaxed in the dorms. Most of the Warblers had showered and changed by now, and were relaxing in t-shirts and sweat pants. Kurt had opted to change into his pajamas. And no, he did not wear silk pajamas that would be expected of Richie Rich, thank you very much. Though he'd had a strict no-flannel-during-the-day policy since his.. misunderstanding with his father, flannel pants were comfortable for sleeping, paired with an old Def Leppard shirt he was pretty sure had originally been Puck's, but he stole it from Finn. _Not_ for creepy reasons, but because he needed a sleep shirt, it was completely after his ridiculous crush. Plus, Finn knew and didn't care.

Padding down the staircase, enjoying the feeling of the polished wood beneath his bare feet, he headed down towards the living area on the first floor, where Charlie and Blaine, along with a few other, quiet Warblers, were on the couch, clearly arguing about something.

Hearing a crash from the kitchen, Kurt headed there first. Wes and Thad were yelling about something, with David rolling his eyes every so often from the other side of the kitchen. Michael, Jeff, Nick, Kendrick, and just about every other Warbler, including David, were creating and absolute mess of everything they could find. After a moment, Kurt realized they were trying to cook, considering it was too late for the commons to be open. He contemplated attempting to help for a moment, before realizing they would probably end up ordering pizza anyway.

"For the last time, Charlie! I am not.." Blaine's voice, louder and more frustrated than Kurt had ever heard before, tapered off. Kurt figured that he would be more successful helping in there than trying to clean and solve the mess the Warblers had made of the kitchen.

"What's going on in here?"Kurt asked, effectively cutting off Charlie's reply.

"Nothing." Blaine answered sharply. Kurt just raised an eyebrow. All the angry, frustrated tension seeped out of Blaine's shoulders. The tenor slumped onto the couch. "I'm sorry, Charlie." Charlie, for a reason Kurt didn't understand, was smirking.

"Point proven." Blaine glared at his friend, but didn't continue the argument. Another crash and a few screams came from the kitchen. "What the hell are those idiots doing?"

"Making a mess of the kitchen. I believe they are attempting to cook dinner." After a dramatic and perfectly placed pause, Kurt asked, "You do have the number for pizza, correct?" Blaine laughed and Charlie answered.

"Oh yes! We all know the delivery guys around here by name, and vice-versa."

"I believe it."

* * *

><p>The Warblers indeed ended up ordering pizza, and the trio who had hung out in the living room forced the others to pick up the kitchen. They ate a ridiculous amount of pizza (26 boys = 11 pizzas, apparently), and watched <em>The King's Speech<em>, which was actually interesting and funny. A few of the Warblers, including Kurt himself, shared their own stories of stammering, and the various, occasionally ludicrous, treatments offered. The only thing all the stories had in common was that, like in the movie, they could all sing better than they could speak.

Then, at Blaine's insistence, they watched _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I_, in which Kurt found out, and rather enjoyed that, no matter how many times Blaine had seen the movie, he jumped high enough to make an Olympian proud, and hid his head in Kurt's shoulder during the snake scene.

The Warblers had gotten rowdier and rowdier as the night went on, so Kurt had left after Harry Potter. The competition had ended at about 6, and the Warblers had been home by 7:30, but by the time they had finished with their movies, it was early in the morning. Despite that fact, no one was the least tired. Laying on his newly-made bed, reading the newest edition of French Vogue, he started humming to himself, then singing, because he _was_ alone, might as well utilize it.

_"There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend. There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend." _Realizing how close the lyrics hit home, now and previously, Kurt stopped singing.

"You should keep going. It sounded good." Kurt jumped a bit at Blaine's voice, not having heard him enter the room.

"It's not one of my favorite songs," Kurt lied easily.

"Why do I have a feeling that's not true?" Blaine didn't press the issue, probably thinking that he was thinking about Finn.

* * *

><p>Well after Kurt had gone up to take a shower, Charlie came to sit with Blaine. "Well, that looked fun. Our little spy looked unhappy though." They had been close enough for long enough that Blaine immediately knew what Charlie was talking about.<p>

"I noticed. He looked like he was in _pain._ I don't get it either. I know he was excited about the solo, and disappointed not to get it, but it's not like he was the New Direction's star soloist." Blaine was obviously frustrated by his friend's confusing behavior.

"You're a performer, Blaine. Think about it this way, how does it feel when a show is over and you've moved on? How does it feel when you move on to something else? How does it feel when you see your old company performing?"

"It feels uncomfortable, weird, like you're suddenly disconnected from everything, and like everything has changed." Blaine answered, realizing that was how Kurt was feeling, and it was difficult for him. That group of twelve kids (or at least eleven of them. He hadn't been told about or met one of the girls) had been the only ones to support him at McKinley, and suddenly they were distant and unfamiliar. "Wow, I feel like an asshole now."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't really do anything, but I still feel bad. It has to be so hard adjusting for him, considering how much he went through at McKinley." Blaine threw his head back against the couch with a squeak.

"What exactly qualifies as 'what he went through at McKinley?'" Charlie asked.

"None of your business, Charlie. And for heaven sakes, _do not ask Kurt,_ he doesn't need to think about that," Blaine said in a more serious tone than usual.

"Don't you take that tone with me, mister," Charlie joked. "I wasn't going to ask Kurt. I was just curious. You say it like something really bad happened."

"Not really bad, per se," which was half-true. "But he was tormented for a long time, and what happened was certainly scary for him, and will probably scar him," which was definitely true.

"Poor baby." Charlie's voice, for a moment, actually sounded sincere, and Blaine proceeded to tell him so, effectively changing the subject.

"Wow, Charlie, you actually sounded sincere for a moment there." Blaine joked.

"Oh, shut up. You love me just as much as you love Kurty, in a different way of course." The Warblers sitting across the room, who were talking quietly among themselves, didn't even look up.

"Charlie, will you please shut up? Not only is Kurt going to back down here any minute, and we certainly don't want him to get that idea, but you seem determined to plant said ridiculous idea in everyone else's head," Blaine said, glancing at the Warblers.

"Oh, relax. Everyone knows it anyway," Charlie replied with a dismissing wave of his hand, laughing when the Warblers across the room nodded.

"I've said it before, and I'm sure, thanks to _you_, that I will say it again, _I am not in love with Kurt Hummel."_

"Lies. Not only are you in love with him, but you want into those impressively-tight skinny jeans. I don't even know how he fits in those things, but they make his ass look _amazing_." Kurt had been wearing a pair earlier in the day, and Blaine noticed every time he walked into the room, Charlie's eyes automatically went to his butt. It was like a magnet.

"Not that I'm disagreeing with your last statement, sometimes they look truly painted on, but I _am not_ lusting after or in love with Kurt." Charlie laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart, you can't lie about this. No gay/bi/mildly-curious guy can say he doesn't want into those pants. He's just one of those people that makes innocence irresistible. If he wasn't _so_ yours, I would _so_ tap that."

"Have you no shame at all? He's a friend of both of ours, you shouldn't talk about him like that." Blaine was slightly horrified by Charlie's lack of respect.

"Relax. All I'm saying is that he's hot. I've said the same thing to you many times. I mean, twinks don't usually do it for me, but _damn._" Blaine just rolled his eyes and sighed at the actions of his best friend. "Okay, fine, it's totally okay for _you_ to lust after him, considering you want more than just a piece of that ass," Charlie said with a smirk.

"For the last time, Charlie! I'm not.. I'm not in love with Kurt, alright?" Blaine realized he was shouting and lowered his voice for the last part.

"What's going on in here?" Oh God, he couldn't have heard that last statement, right?

"Nothing," Blaine replied sharply, knowing that Charlie wouldn't stay anything that would endanger his friendship with Kurt. At the single raised eyebrow from Kurt, he felt all the fight and frustration drain from him. "I'm sorry, Charlie," Blaine apologized honestly, even though he knew Charlie had taken no offense from his words.

"Point proven." Blaine glared at his friend. Just because Kurt knew how to calm his (rarely showed) temper, doesn't mean he was in love with him. Charlie could control his emotions just as well, and he knew it. There was a crash and a few screams from inside the kitchen, and soon the conversation was directed away from their argument.

* * *

><p>"Finally got tired of dealing with our charming morons?" Kurt asked in a fake sweet tone.<p>

"As much as I love them, and I truly, honestly, absolutely, positively, gosh-darn-tootin'-ly do, you can only handle so much madness before you join in or have to leave." Blaine knew the boys weren't as bad as the two made them seem, but it was a safe topic of conversation.

"Wow, that's a horrible dress on her," was Kurt's only comment, as he had obviously returned to his magazine.

"Way to pay attention." Blaine laughed, stripping off his shirt and turning to his closet for his pajamas.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I-I got distracted." Kurt looked up and was met with the smooth planes of Blaine's muscular back as he searched around his closet.

"Happens. I really do love them, though."

"A-As do I."

"You're reverting back to your stammering," Blaine joked. At Kurt's lack of answer he addressed what he actually wanted to talk about. "I'm sorry about today, onstage. Charlie helped me realize, in show terms, how you were feeling, performing with us for the first time only a week after you got here, and watching your old team, who are practically your _family_ perform without you." Blaine turned to smile at the soprano and noticed he was faintly flushed and distracted.

"Yeah. I-" Kurt was cut off by the ringing off his phone. _J'adore Weitzmen habillez moi, Louis, Dolce Gabanna, Alexander McQueen, et all, merde love those Manolo._ "May I?" he asked Blaine, knowing it was rude to interrupt their conversation, but honestly having forgotten what he was going to say. Since this was the first time he had looked at his phone since the competition, he noticed he had 11 new texts exactly (he assumed from New Directions members).

"Go ahead. Your team and family wants to congratulate you." Blaine smiled.

* * *

><p>Kurt, walking into the bathroom with his phone (for who knew what would come out of an adrenaline-filled Puck or Santana), answered it with a "Hello, Miss Rachel Berry," hoping she was actually the person who had called him.<p>

"So, who is he?" Rachel asked immediately. "Oh, and congratulations."

"'Why, hello to you too Kurt, how are you today?' 'Oh, I'm fine, how are you, dear?' 'Excellent, thank you.'" Kurt mocked a proper greeting. "Leave it to Rachel Berry to get right to her point, but you'll have to explain a little bit more, because I simply have no idea who you're talking about. I'm surrounded by boys, which one are you referring to?" Kurt believed she was talking about Blaine, whom he hadn't mentioned to her due to her distrust-of-gorgeous-curly-haired-brunette-lead-singer-rivals-who-are-potential-love-interests, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"The boy who came out to get you for places? The gorgeous one? The Warblers' lead soloist?" Rachel asked, clearly annoyed by Kurt's lack of ability to read her mind.

"That's Blaine, and if you're interested in him, he's on my team," Kurt replied, slightly smugly that the tables had turned. With Finn (who he was no longer interested in, thank you very much), Rachel would always be ahead of him because she was a girl. With Blaine, he would always be ahead because, as effeminate as he may be, he _was_ a guy.

"I'm not interested in him," Rachel said, clearly irritated for some unknown reason. "As a love-child of two completely-gay dads, I have excellent gay-dar." Kurt almost snorted. Very few straight people had a good gay-dar, it's just a fact. "I only asked because it's clear to me that _you're_ interested in him."

"First of all, please never, _ever_, call yourself a love-child again. Second, I am inclined to believe that I showed no indication whatsoever of a potential interest in Blaine. It _is_ possible for two gay guys to be jut friends." Kurt took his most formal and cold tone with Rachel.

"I completely believe that. It is as possible for you and Blaine to be friends as it is for Mercedes and Sam to be friends. However, if you did have.. other feelings for Blaine, and Blaine happened to return said feelings, I just want you to know that I'd be very happy for you." Rachel's voice warmed at the end and Kurt was touched. "A sentiment, I should add, which is echoed by the rest of the club, as well as Mr. Schue, accompanied, naturally, by quite a bit of threatening, which I'm sure they would repeat to Blaine's face if the opportunity ever emerged."

Kurt grinned at the last part of the statement, leaning against the edge of the bathroom counter. "I'm sure, and thank you."

"We all know how lonely you've been," Rachel unknowingly echoed Mercedes when she asked if he and Blaine were dating.

"Well, unfortunately, Blaine does not return said feelings. Also, I am currently in _his_ bathroom, and he is _right_ outside the door, so perhaps now isn't the best time to discuss this?" Kurt lowered his voice, knowing Blaine would never intentionally spy (he's too much of a gentlemen), but Dalton had thin walls, which is why he felt _really_ bad for Charlie's neighbors.

"Well, than he's stupider than he looked, and you are better than he deserves," Rachel said angrily, dropping the formal tone of their conversation.

"He's a sweet guy, Rachel, and he's _not_ stupid. Blaine deserves a good guy, I'm just not meant to be that guy. And I _certainly_ don't need a boyfriend to be happy. And neither do you, so you can stop looking at Finn like a pathetic puppy. I saw you hug him." It wasn't an accusation, but Rachel and Finn always had a rocky relationship, and a break could be good for them.

"Of course not. You and I are divas, and as independent as they can be. Plus, your crush is at least gay this time. I call that progress. I'll let you get back to pining over Blaine now," Rachel teased, almost completely ignoring what he had said about Finn.

"I am not pining over him," Kurt argued distracted from the necessary Finn conversation by the familiar tease. "We'll talk more soon, okay?" By which he meant, 'we're not done with this subject, Rachel.'

"Yes. Goodbye, my love," Rachel said dramatically.

"Goodbye, my love," Kurt echoed before hanging up.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Five Chapters, and I'm not even done 'Special Education' yet. Wow.**  
><strong>

**Songs used:  
>'<strong>_Cooler Than Me' _by Mike Posner  
>'<em>Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)' <em>by Katy Perry_  
>'Fashion'<em> by Lady GaGa  
>The Warblers singing Fireflies here: Youtube at: watch?v=rCVhqJRS_0o<p>

**Reviews are love. **


	6. Sectionals Weekend, Part II

**A/N: So, here's the last part of Sectionals Weekend, and the last of 'Special Education'! Read on.**

* * *

><p>"Sorry. Rachel just wanted to talk and congratulate us on Sectionals." Kurt said, walking out of the bathroom and sitting next to Blaine on his temporary bed.<p>

"It's not a problem." Blaine said politely, flipping through Kurt's Vogue.

"So.. I have a question for you." Kurt said hesitantly, deciding to ask flat-out.

"Ask away." Blaine knew that Kurt was guaranteed to ask about his past sometime, so he decided to take Charlie's advice, and tell him. Kurt stood up and walked over to Pavarotti's cage, beginning to feed him as he asked.

"Why do you never say anything about your past?" Well, that wasn't the question he was expecting, not exactly. Kurt wasn't asking _about_ his past, but rather why he didn't like talking about his past.

"I don't like thinking about it." Blaine answered honestly. "It's not as bad as yours, but it's still not exactly pleasant. I made a lot of mistakes, and I've done a lot of things that I regret."

"Haven't we all?" Kurt asked rhetorically. In the awkward silence left, Kurt whistled a few notes to Pavarotti, who happily answered.

"I'll tell you about it if you really want to know." There, he'd said it.

"Well, that's new." Kurt said, turning to face Blaine for the first time, clearly surprised, since Blaine had vehemently refused to say _anything_ before.

"You've told me everything. You deserve the same courtesy." And it was true.

"How about you start from the beginning?" Kurt was thrown-off, having expected the story to require more persuasion.

"I came out to my parents when I was five. Neither of them were _in love_ with the idea, but they were accepting. I figure the fact that I was so young made them realize that it really wasn't a choice." Blaine paused before saying, "Despite what people believe, I _was not_ the reason for the divorce two years later. They decided, in the end, it was truly amicable. My mother didn't belong in Ohio, and my father didn't want to hold her back any longer. She lives happily in New Your City now, and they're still on speaking terms."

"You said your father-" Kurt began, before Blaine cut him off. He had said that his mom (he never referred to her as his step-mom, which Kurt found odd) was completely okay with it, but his dad had tried to 'straighten him out' on occasion. The past between Blaine's parents sounded an awful lot like the future Kurt envisioned for Finn and Rachel.

"He was okay in the beginning, which is where I started, in case you forgot," In a very mature way, Blaine stuck his tongue out at Kurt, "it got more awkward when dating was actually possible, and my dad had to deal with reality, rather than living in denial and attributing my 'confusion' to silly schoolboy crushes."

"Sorry for interrupting," Kurt said automatically.

"Always so gracious," Blaine teased with a smile. "It's not a problem. My dad remarried when I was twelve, and I love Lorie. I don't even consider her my step-mother, she is my second mom. She's actually friends with my mom, which is weird."

"I'd think."

"By the time I went to middle school I wasn't closeted, but I wasn't screaming it from the rooftops either. Nobody knew I was gay until one of my friends tried to set me up with a cheerleader-"

"There _are_ male cheerleaders." Kurt cut him off.

"Yes, like you." Blaine grinned. "Fine, he tried to set me up with a _female_ cheerleader, and I told him. In seventh grade, it wasn't a big deal. No one really understood what it meant, and no one was seriously dating."

Blaine paused to take a deep breath, and started nervously fidgeting with his still-gelled curls, and Kurt knew this was where the taunting would start. "Then I walking into the first day of eighth grade, and everyone looked at me like I was an alien. It seems _everyone_ had discovered what gay mean over the summer, and, naturally, decided against it." Seeing Kurt was thinking and about to interrupt, Blaine added, "I only say 'naturally' because this is small-town, Ohio." At Kurt's nod, Blaine continued.

"Thankfully, we did _not_ have a slushy machine but locker shoves, subtle punches, and the usual slurs, 'fag,' 'faggot,' 'fudgepacker,' but nothing really bad." The slurs sounded so wrong from the beautiful boys mouth, in the cold, clinical tone. "The real difference between your experience and mine was that I wasn't the only out gay kid. There were two other guys, one more feminine, like you, and the other more masculine, like Karofsky, both of whom went through the same kind of treatment." Blaine hated the way Kurt flinched when he said that name, but it was the only example he could think of. "There was also a feminine lesbian, but she was never picked on because guys like hot lesbians."

"Proven fact." Kurt said with a shudder, thinking of the rumors and stories of Puck, Santana, and Brittany threesomes.

Blaine paused. "Do I want to know?"

"No, you really, _really_ don't. Continue."

"Really, with me, the only thing was the emotional wear-and-tear of constantly being alienated and rejected. You know what it feels like. Everyone that I had become close to had abandoned me, and it was a while before a scarce few accepted me. I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin, and sometimes _I_ felt like there was something wrong with me too. The idea of dealing with that for the rest of my life was.. _scary_. I was unsure and I felt alone, so I, a typical, ignorant barely-teenaged boy, did something stupid. The twink I mentioned earlier, his name was Michael Angus McIntyre L' Abbe, but everyone called him Marcus. I.. I started sleeping with him." Kurt was surprised, certainly, and Blaine looked ashamed, not meeting Kurt's eyes. "It was just care-free-strings-free experimenting, a way to not feel so alone. It wasn't really dating, but... I guess I cared about him. I know it's stupid, but back then I thought that maybe if I tried out being gay in a more... practical way, I would find out that I wasn't. It felt like a vague hope that maybe I really was normal. Well, I'm gay, obviously, and I'm okay with that for the most part now, but sometimes I do wish that I had found some girlfriend to bring home and make my parents proud, make my old friends accept me again."

"Blaine." Kurt's soft voice made him look up, and there was no disappointment in the boy's glasz eyes (Thad had apparently found the proper term for what most would call awesome-chameleon-blue-green-gray eyes). "You experimented. It happens. You were scared, and you needed affection. Why do you think Mercedes and I are so dependent on each other? It's because we're like you and Marcus, minus the sex." Kurt flushed faintly when he said that, and the blush looked amazing on his pale skin. "We're substitutes for each others' boyfriend, until we find a guy we really like. Did I ever tell you that we bonded first over the fact that neither of us had ever kissed anyone? We'll still be best friends once we both find someone, but we won't be so co-dependent. We became friends because we were lonely, and we needed someone. It's natural. " He placed his hand on Blaine's knee. "Go ahead."

"I was in high school by the time I had broken up with Marcus." Kurt was mildly surprised, thinking that Blaine and Marcus had _started_ in high school but he didn't show it. "From then, it got even worse. It was the worst, I think, for Marcus, because he was dating someone who couldn't be there to support or protect him. I guess the jocks were upset that... I don't want to say he was _visibly_ gay, because he'd been that all along. I'm not sure how to say it... but I guess he was _acting_ on the fact he was gay, instead of it being an abstract concept, and they felt like he was shoving it in their faces. They eventually ran him out of the school. He transferred to whatever school his boyfriend went to, and I never heard from him again. The other openly gay guy, Gerald, became a member of the football team, which apparently cancels out being gay."

"There had been a party that night." Kurt could tell by Blaine's tone, and the fact that Blaine wasn't meeting his eyes again, picking at the bottom hem of his Dalton Academy t-shirt, that this was the reason he transferred to Dalton. "I had been invited, the whole school had. A popular cheerleader, who was richer than most of the students that go _here _caught her parents having sex, and demanded that they let her throw a big party as compensation. I hadn't gone to the party, because I really didn't want to. Watching couples make-out and having people throw up on you was not my idea of a good time. I had drunk a little in the past, at parties, but I never really enjoyed it, and I _certainly_ never drank."

"A few footballers were on their way home from the party. They were obviously tipsy, and they reeked of alcohol, but they were too coherent to be drunk. I was walking home from my friend Angela's house, as she had decided to go to 'the party of the decade' after all, and it was only about 5 minutes. They.." Blaine paused, obviously not sure how much detail to put in the story. Kurt took his hand and squeezed it, a silent urge to go on. "They beat me up pretty badly," Blaine began, squeezing Kurt's hand in return. "They bruised, but didn't break any of my ribs, they broke my wrist, a few fingers, and my nose. I had so many bruises I looked like a painting. It was scary for me, but I didn't tell anyone. Not even my parents. The next day I went to the gym teacher, one of the very few teachers that actually cared, and was pretty understanding, I think she was a lesbian herself, and asked her to patch me up as best she could." Blaine didn't end his story there, but took a break to breathe.

"I wasn't completely healed by the time the Sadie Hawkins dance came around. I was considering going with Angela, who had felt terrible when she figured out what happened. I didn't tell her, but she was always too smart for her own good. Anyway, I was surprised when the other gay guy at out school, Gerard, asked me to go with him. Unfortunately, we never made it to the actual dance. I guess the football players were angry that Gerard had acted on being gay too, and they set out to find us. I... it was only because I wasn't healed that they did any real, hospital-worthy damage, but Gerard..." Blaine trailed off, looking away from Kurt as tears dripped down his face. "They beat the shit out of him." Kurt was shocked by the lack of decorum, Blaine didn't swear often, but he squeezed Blaine's hand in support. "They cracked his skull, fractured his spinal cord, it was a miracle that he _lived_, never mind that he can walk. A-and watching and being helpless was the worst..." Blaine trailed off, wiping the tears away and soldiering on. "Well, there was no way I could avoid my parents finding out about that one, and my mom was absolutely _furious_ when the doctor mentioned signs of previous breaks, and... here I am."

"That doesn't count as running away, Blaine. That's a _hate crime_, _multiple_ hate crimes, and I am so sorry you had to go through that. You had every right to leave that podunk town far behind you," Kurt said, not letting go of Blaine's hand.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine said with a sad smile.

Kurt, not wanting to make Blaine more upset, asked about a topic he believed was lighter. "So, Mercedes and I mutually bonded through loneliness and inexperience. How did you and Charlie get so close?" Charlie and Blaine were almost as close as Kurt and Mercedes were.

"Well, actually.. um." Blaine stuttered and blushed.

"Let me guess. You were new, lonely, and unsure, and so you and Charlie got together?" Kurt asked, slightly mad Blaine had never mentioned any of this before.

"Yes, yes, yes, but no. We weren't really together, Charlie doesn't 'do together,' but we were.. romantically involved for a bit." Blaine carefully rephrased the truth.

"So, what you're saying is, you had a one-night stand with your now best friend because you were new, lonely, and unsure?" Kurt cut away Blaine's sugar coating.

"Essentially." Blaine shifted awkwardly.

Kurt just shrugged, unsure of how to act now. Finding out Blaine's past had been a double-edged sword, so to speak. On one hand, he had unraveled the mystery that is Blaine Anderson. On the other, he wasn't sure how to act around his friend who wasn't only... not-a-virgin, but also had been through and seen some of his worst nightmares. "I, for one, think we should go to bed. It's.. four in the morning. I'm tired, you're tired, we'll talk more tomorrow?"

"Goodnight, Kurt." Blaine walked over to his own bed.

* * *

><p>It was about six in the morning when Blaine heard a soft "no, please!" from Kurt's side of the room. Getting up to check on his roommate, Blaine saw that Kurt was thrashing, and begging, and.. oh.<p>

Climbing onto Kurt's bed next to him, he began trying to wake the boy up. "Kurt! Kurt, wake up! You're okay, you're safe, he's not here!" Kurt awoke with a sharp gasp, and buried his head into Blaine's shoulder, shaking uncontrollably and beginning to cry.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, baby." Blaine wasn't sure where that particular name had come from, but he _highly _doubted Kurt even noticed.

"I.. he.." Kurt started sobbing, and shaking even harder. Blaine rubbed his back and murmured little nothings to him until he started to calm down.

"It's alright, Kurt," he whispered softly when Kurt started apologizing profusely. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay," he murmured, stroking Kurt's hair. Blaine let go of the countertenor to return to his own bed, but was stopped by Kurt's hand on his arm.

"Will you stay?" the countertenor asked quietly, not meeting Blaine's eyes. "Please?" Kurt pleaded, and when he met his eyes, Kurt looked so vulnerable, young, and scared that Blaine nodded and climbed in to the bed next to him, ignoring the millions of ways in which this was a bad idea.

"Good morning, Kurt," Blaine joked, succeeding in lightening the mood, as Kurt laughed and echoed the statement.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up to a "Look how adorable they are!" from Charlie. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the nosy Warblers crowded in their, <em>Blaine's<em>, dorm.

"I wonder what happened last night," Wes said, sounding concerned.

"I'm sure nothing interesting. Kurt's too wholesome. Thad, you're their neighbor, did you hear anything?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they weren't having sex." Kurt then realized that all of their speculations were based on the fact that Blaine was still in his borrowed bed.

Finally opening his eyes, he rolled them at the three boys and said "I had a nightmare, and I asked Blaine to stay with me." Wes and Thad looked a little bit guilty, but Charlie didn't.

"Then why are you still asleep at one in the afternoon, and why are you all cuddled up?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Because we went to bed at about 4 in the morning, and.. I'm not sure," Kurt admitted, for it was true. They had been as far from each other as they could be when they fell asleep, and now Blaine was wrapped in his arms, his head tucked under the taller boy's chin.

"Better question, why haven't you gotten up yet?" Charlie smirked.

"I didn't want to wake Blaine up," Kurt shot back.

"Let us help you with that." Without further ado, the three boys hopped up on the bed before yelling "Rise and shine, Blainey!" simultaneously.

With the ease of somebody who had done so many times, Blaine stuck out his feet, tripping the three boys and causing Wes and Charlie to fall to the floor and Thad to fall onto the bed next to Kurt, and just snuggled further into Kurt's chest. He then realized who he was curled up against, and pulled away, mumbling apologies as he awkwardly climbed out of the bed.

"It's fine." Kurt admired the fact that Blaine's hair had indeed un-gelled during the night, and it looked good, mussed and curly. "I really do like your hair better minus the ridiculous amounts of gel."

"Told you!" Charlie bragged. "Alright guys, let's give our lovers some room, so they can have their awkward morning after. Let's go wake up David." The three boys raced out of the room yelling "Davy, wherefore art thou, Davy?" David loathed Shakespeare after a incident with _Romeo & Juliet_ that was apparently rather painful for all involved.

"We're not lovers!" Kurt shouted futilely after Charlie.

"What am I going to do with that boy?" Blaine mumbled, clearly to himself, before turning to face Kurt. "Do you want first shower?"

"You should probably go first, I'll take longer." Showing how morning-sleepy Blaine was, he did not insist in the most gentleman-like way that Kurt take first shower as a guest, but just shrugged and started picking out clothes.

* * *

><p>Kurt headed down towards the kitchen, where a <em>very<em> grumpy-looking David was sipping coffee and mumbling, clearly having been woken quite well by Charlie, Wes, and Thad's Shakespeare. He caught the phrases 'stupid idiots,' 'hate them,' and 'my life.'

"Where are our idiots?" Kurt asked. "And _please_ tell me where you got the coffee."

David simply pointed mutely to the Keurig, and Kurt mentally started singing _Hallelujah!_ "No doubt they're waking everyone else up."

Like clockwork, Kurt heard, "_Good morning, Baltimore! Everyday's like an open door! Every night's like a fantasy! Every sound's like a symphony!"_ Wes and Thad were singing the familiar melody up and down the halls, successfully rousing almost everyone in the household.

"Naturally." Kurt rolled his eyes and put a latte-type coffee in the Keurig.

Charlie, who had apparently gotten bored of the other boys' company, bounced into the kitchen, the picture perfect morning person. With a laugh he pointed to Kurt and said, "_Latte_ is Italian for _you paid way too much for that coffee."_

"Uh.. so, did you and Blaine..?" David trailed off, but it was obvious what he was asking.

"Yes!" Charlie exclaimed with a giggle.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I had a nightmare. Ignore Charlie, it's perfectly possible for two gay guys to be just friends."

"Well, duh. Just not you two." Kurt ignored his friend.

"I believe you, Kurt." David seemed about to say something else, but was cut off by Charlie.

"Well, I don't. So, how was last night?" Charlie said with a waggle of his eyebrows, practically bouncing in his chair.

"A, may I stress _once again_ that _I did not have sex with Blaine!_ B, I'm pretty sure you're more experienced in_ that_ particular area than I am." Kurt said, blatantly pointing out to Charlie that he knew about his history with Blaine.

"Oh." Charlie faltered in his bouncing. "He told you about that?" Then.. a sight Kurt never expected to see. Charlie _blushed._ Charlie, the completely shameless whore, turned bright pink and started stuttering. "I-I didn't think he would tell you about t-that. It was just o-once, it didn't really mean anything, I-I.." Charlie trailed off at Kurt's amused expression.

"I'm not mad at you, Charlie. I was teasing. Whatever happened between you and Blaine is _none_ of my business." Kurt smiled at the still-flushed boy.

"What, what happened between you and Blaine?" David looked _really_ confused.

"Nothing," Charlie and Kurt lied simultaneously.

"I definitely don't believe that one," David said, rolling his eyes at the pair.

"Whether or not you and Blaine did the nasty last night, and I'm not entirely convinced either way, don't you dare interrupt me, Hummel," Charlie cut off Kurt's protest before it began, causing David to laugh, "you do like him, right?"

"W-What would give you that idea?" Kurt stuttered. He thought he had gotten better at subtle.

"The way you look at him. The stuttering. The closeness. The exclusive-to-him-touchiness. The cuddling. The blushing. Everything really." At Kurt's horrified look, Charlie added, "Don't worry, Blaine's as oblivious as they come, he has no idea. I was just curious."

"I'm about 98.7% sure that he does, based on his actions," David added.

"David, if you reach down under the table and get that damn book of 'official minutes,' I swear to Set that I'm going to cut your dick off. First Wes with Lucy, and now you, with that damn book." Charlie rolled his eyes and huffed dramatically. Kurt envied his ability to be melodramatic on less that three cups of coffee.

"Lucy?" Kurt asked because.._ what?_

"The gavel. We all named it.. after we watched about two days worth of _I Love Lucy_, straight. We're convinced he's married to that thing, so he's occasionally Ricardo." Charlie smirked. "You haven't answered my question."

"I know."

"And really, Set? I think you've been too wrapped up in that 'damn book,'" David was clearly mocking Charlie. "Charlie has a thing for polytheistic religions. They fascinate him. The Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, all of it. I'm pretty sure Set is the Egyptian God of Chaos."

"You spend way too much time around each other," Kurt said, seeing how close boarding could bring people.

"You should consider boarding. You live like two hours away," David said.

"I have. Honestly, I'm thinking about boarding after Christmas break, after we move into the new house." Kurt was extremely _unexcited_ about the move. It had been just him and his dad for so long, being around other people was going to be weird. Plus, the house held all of his memories of his mom.

He remembers his first Christmas at three, the year he had (supposedly) asked for the sensible heels for his birthday. Mom waited until Dad was out grocery shopping, then took him up to her make-up table (which he normally was not allowed to touch), and made him up. The look on his father's face when he had come home was worth how long it took to put on the make-up, in a young Kurt's mind.

He remembers how many presents there were under the tree that year. How Brittany had gotten her first lip gloss in her stocking, and had managed to smear it all over the family room by the time the day was over. His mother and Amanda Pierce had been so close that Brittany and Kurt had practically been inseparable when they were growing up.

His mother taught him the difference between happy and sad tears that year. Watching _White Christmas_, young Kurt had asked why his mother was crying. She had replied that 'sometimes all the happiness builds up inside you so much that some of it comes out in tears.'

Whenever it was too warm in the summer, his dad would take to spraying the two of them with the hose, usually through sneak attack. They would be playing outside, relaxing in the sun, and Dad would come at them from around the side of the house with the hose. The funniest times were when Kurt's mom had stolen the hose and turned it back on his dad.

* * *

><p>"Kurt? Kurt? Did you guys finally break him?" Blaine asked the two with annoyance.<p>

"No, we mentioned something about boarding, he mentioned something about moving, and then he completely zoned out!" Charlie said defensively.

"Kurt!" Blaine tried again.

"Huh? Sorry, I was.. reminiscing." Kurt returned from his trance with a start.

"It's fine, but you should probably go shower," Blaine said with a small smile.

"Yeah, right." Kurt headed out of the kitchen.

"Wait, you have to answer my question!" Charlie raced after him.

"What question?" Blaine had walked into the kitchen to find Kurt staring up into space and David and Charlie staring at him with identical 'what the hell' expressions.

"Just their usual madness. Anyway, Wes proposed a few more bonding ideas for the Warblers he wanted to run by you, and a few more songs, but it's too early, both in the morning and in the season, to talk about set lists." David rolled his eyes. David and Wes had been best friends for years, one was usually never seen without the other, and they honestly loved each other, but most of the time they were ready to kill each other.

"Bonding ideas? And why run them by me?" Wes' ideas to make the Warblers closer usually ended in disaster.

"Because you are the only thing that we have that is anywhere close to a voice of reason. There's an idea for this weekend, and something that apparently involves our parents right before Christmas break." David grinned at Blaine, because they all knew how well the last Warbler bonding event had went.

"For this weekend? I'm scared for my life," Blaine half-joked.

"Just lunch, thankfully. Let's see how long it takes until we get kicked out of the restaurant for random singing."

"Or inappropriate lyrics."

"Or just inappropriate behavior."

"Or somebody dancing on the table." Blaine grinned at the memory.

"Doesn't that go under the category of inappropriate behavior?" David thought it did.

"No, the restaurant scene in _When Harry Met Sally_ counts as inappropriate behavior." David rolled his eyes because _of course_ Blaine would reference _that_ movie.

"Yeah, but guys can't fake it."

"David! I would never expect that from you. Charlie? Yes, but never you." Blaine looked shocked.

"Sorry, too early and not enough coffee to have filters." David shrugged.

"How late did you guys stay up last night?"

"I _attempted_ to go to bed at about three. My _idiotic_ roommate kept me up until _six in the damn morning, _and naturally decided to wake me up _7 hours later_." Blaine laughed.

"How have you not strangled him yet?"

"Endless self-restraint."

* * *

><p>"I will keep bothering you until I get my answer!" Charlie yelled loudly through the bathroom door.<p>

"Will you knock it off Charlie? I'm trying to shower." Kurt knew very well that he was avoiding the question.

"All you have to do is say 'yes' and I'll leave you alone!" It certainly sounded enticing.

"Do you at all have the ability to keep your mouth shut?" Kurt wasn't sure what to think of Charlie, and really didn't know him that well.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Anubis would create the ceremony 'closing of the mouth' just for me, but I'm good with secrets." Charlie's reference was completely lost of Kurt, but he knew Charlie wouldn't leave him alone until he admitted it.

"Fine. Yes. Happy?"

"Yes, what?" Oh, he was going to kill that boy.

"Yes, I like Blaine." Kurt gritted out.

"I knew it!" Kurt could hear Charlie shuffling and figured he was doing a victory dance.

"Can I shower now?"

"Yes, but hurry up. Knowing Wes, we have some ridiculous bonding thing this weekend that is guaranteed to fail. It might even get the Warblers permanently banned from another restaurant. It happens every time all the Warblers are here for the weekend."

"Thanks for the warning. I'm nervous already."

"You should be. Toodles!" Kurt could hear Charlie leaving the room.

* * *

><p>"So, Warblers," Wes addressed all the now showered and dressed Warblers. It was odd, for Kurt, to see the boys out of uniform. Charlie was staring at his ass <em>again<em>, and it was a confusing mix of creepy and flattering. It seriously made Kurt regret his outfit, though he looked _fabulous._ "We are going bonding." The statement was greeted with groans, and several 'I think I have a stomachache now's.

"Wes, you do remember what happened last time we went bonding right?" Charlie laughed.

"What happened last time you went bonding?" Kurt felt like it was a bad idea to ask, but he was insatiably curious.

"Bad idea to ask," Charlie said, and most of the Warblers shook their heads, but Blaine answered anyway.

"Well, we're never allowed in the Italian restaurant nearest Dalton ever again. After Michael and Kendrick broke out into the chorus of _Rocket Ride_ quite loudly, and Charlie began dancing rather suggestively on the table, as if everyone didn't already know what the lyrics were about, I believe the competition to see who could come up with the most vulgar statement finally sent the management over the edge." By the end of Blaine's explanation, the Warblers were cracking up with memories, Wes was pocketing a bottle of aspirin, and David was rolling his eyes.

Kurt's answer of "Why am I not surprised?" only served to make the Warblers laugh harder.

"I am surrounded by madness," Wes said with a sigh.

"You love it. You're _part_ of it." Charlie laughed.

"I.. am completely serious most of the time. You guys are just a bad influence on me," Wes said with a sniff.

"That would be the other way around." David rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"At any rate, we are going to the local Chinese buffet. Try not to get us kicked out this time, _Charlie._" Everyone laughed at the remorseless boy.

"You love it."

* * *

><p>The Warblers successfully split into cars and got to the restaurant. They remained sane for the ten minutes it took for everyone to get their food, and for about five minutes after, while they were all stuffing their faces.<p>

Then Charlie said, "Alright, Wes, truth or dare?" And it all went downhill from there.

"Dare," Wes responded cockily.

"Lick that lady's shoe." Wes groaned and the rest of the table chuckled, realizing that the rest of the patron's would eventually be involved in this little game.

"Let's ignore the idiots, shall we?" Blaine asked Kurt, and they began to have their own conversation.

Wes, who was the _King_ of Truth or Dare, valiantly went up to the table and said, "Excuse me, I just need to look for my contact," ducking beneath the table, and licking the women's shoe. She just smiled at the innocent-seeming boy and didn't even notice. Returning to the table, he turned to David and asked, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," David responded, knowing how horrible a dare from Wes would be.

"Pussy!" Michael said loudly, earning himself a few annoyed glances from around the buffet.

"Have you ever made out with a guy?" Wes knew the answer to this question, but was just intent on embarrassing his roommate and friend.

"Yes." David blushed and looked down. "Michael, truth or dare?" He was obviously picking on the boy because he had made fun of him.

"Dare." Michael knew David was spineless when it came to this game.

"Kiss Charlie," or not so spineless_._

"Dude.." he complained, but leaned over and kissed the gay boy quickly anyway.

"Pussy," David mimicked his earlier words with a grin.

Michael leaned forward, giving Charlie a _real_ kiss, earning catcalls from the table and disapproving looks from around the restaurant.

"You can stop anytime now." Wes looked amused. Charlie pulled away with a murmured 'damn.'

"Jeff, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Hmm. Have you ever fantasized about anyone at this table?" The entire table, including Kurt and Blaine, who seemed determined to ignore the other boys, cracked up at Jeff's expression.

"N-no."

"Liar!" Wes yelled, and a waitress came over to politely ask them to quiet down.

"Thad, truth or dare?" Jeff said quickly, clearly eager to pull the attention off of himself.

"Dare."

"Kiss the next person who comes through the door." Everyone turned eagerly to look at the door, and groaned when they saw the Crawford Country Day head cheerleader walk through the door.

"Some people get all the luck." Wes pouted.

Thad bounded up eagerly to the door.

"Hey, there, so we're playing a little game of truth or dare."

"Interesting. What do you need?"

"This," and Thad kissed her right on the mouth. The girl pulled away, and quickly kneed him in the crotch, before turning and leaving the restaurant. A clearly annoyed cashier came over and asked, "Could you please refrain from molesting my customers?" causing everyone in the restaurant to laugh at Thad, who was slumped on the ground in pain.

"Well since Thad is out for the count, Ian, truth or dare?"

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry about what happened last night." In retrospect, Blaine and Kurt probably looked a little bit like Santana and Brittany, leaning close together mouth-to-ear, and ignoring the rest of the room.<p>

"Why are you sorry? Kurt, you had a nightmare, it happens. _I'm_ sorry for just laying everything out to you."

"You shouldn't be, I asked. I didn't mean for having a nightmare, I meant for clinging to you and making you sleep in my bed with me."

"For the record, you did not _make_ me sleep with you." Realizing how awkward that sounded, Blaine quickly stuttered out, "I-I mean in your bed with you. Considering what you've been through, it's perfectly understandable for you to have nightmares. You needed someone. Can I ask you a question?" Blaine though he knew, but he wasn't sure.

"The nightmare was about Karofsky," Kurt confirmed his suspicions. "He.. well he r-r, r-"

"You don't have to say it, I get what you mean." The boys glasz eyes looked suspiciously wet, so Blaine pulled him into a hug for a second. "It's okay, Kurt, that's never going to happen."

"I know, but I shouldn't-" Blaine cut Kurt off before he could start with the self-depreciating thing.

"It's okay to be scared, Kurt." Kurt didn't even seem to be paying attention to him, and considering he had interrupted Kurt and should now be on the receiving end of his most viscous glare, that was unusual.

"Are Michael and Charlie.." Blaine looked over at the two boys and rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Just ignore them."

"I have a lot to get used to," Kurt said, determined _not_ to stare at his friends, but blushing slightly nonetheless. Damn his pale complexion. They heard everyone laughing, and quickly looked over to see a fire-truck-red Jeff stutter out 'n-no,' joining in on the laughter for a moment.

"Can I ask your opinion on something?" Kurt asked, seeming nervous all the sudden.

"Does this have to do with this morning?" Blaine had wondered about Kurt's nostalgia moment.

"You know me so well. Is it stupid to wish that, even though Carole and Finn are a part of our family now, nothing had changed?"

"No, I don't think it is," Blaine replied. "You have a lot of important memories in that house, and that's hard to give up. At the same time, you'll be making new and different, but not necessarily better, memories. Change can be difficult, but it will be worth it." Blaine gave Kurt the smile that so endeared everyone to him.

"I.. my dad is considering having me board after Christmas. Apparently, the increased gas bills are a pain, plus, I'm not so good minus my usual amount of sleep." Kurt grinned, trying to lighten his statement.

"Your parents aren't trying to get rid of you, Kurt," Blaine said, seeing right through Kurt's not-subtlety. "They want you around, but commuting over two hours has to be taking a toll on you. Maybe it is better for you to get away from Lima, for a little while at least?"

"I'm considering it." Kurt smiled.

* * *

><p>"Okay, losers, you can ignore us for your little conversation, considering what happened last night, but now you have to play." Thad was the one to drag them out of their private little world, and back to the madness which surrounded them, of course adding a tease.<p>

"Fine." Blaine knew the best way to deflect Thad was to play along.

"If you give me anything particularly horrible, I'm going to be the _second_ person to knee you in the crotch today." Kurt gave Thad a sweet smile, which clashed dramatically with his statement.

"Truth or dare, Kurt?" Thad crossed his legs with a slight wince.

"Truth."

"Pussy," Kendrick said.

"Is that your favorite word for people who pick truth? Depending on the person, it can be much worse than dare." The question was for the table in general, but everyone ignored Kurt.

"Well, how about the question everyone wants to know?" Charlie grinned, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "Did you or did you not sleep with Hobbit?"

"This is the complete truth. For the last time, Charlie, just because Blaine slept in my bed because I had a nightmare, does not mean we had sex. And we didn't." Kurt crossed his arms and legs, entering full 'diva bitch' mode.

"Sure. What was this scary nightmare about, that Blaine had to protect you?" Charlie smirked, and Kurt's stomach dropped like a stone.

"Charlie. Enough," Blaine called him off with a look.

"Fine. Don't tell us," Charlie ignored his friend, daring Kurt to tell them with his eyes.

Noticing that Kurt was suddenly tense and nervous, obviously thinking about his nightmare, Wes joined in with a "Charlie, just stop. It's none of our business."

"Whatever. B, truth or dare?" Charlie stopped goading Kurt, but knew how much Blaine hated the informal one-letter thing.

"Dare," Blaine said, smirking at his best friend.

"Tell us what Kurt's nightmare was about," Charlie replied.

"That's not a dare. Wes?" Blaine knew the only way to get Charlie off the topic was to enlist the King of Truth or Dare as help.

"Kiss Kurt." The whole table, Blaine and Kurt especially, gaped at him.

"With tongue," Charlie added mischievously.

Gulping slightly, Blaine leaned towards the boy of his dreams, and kissed him quickly, barely a peck, before pulling away. Unknown to the boys, that light touch sent a shot of electricity through them both.

"Pussy," Charlie said. Blaine just flipped him off.

* * *

><p>They did eventually get kicked out of the restaurant, when Blaine dared Charlie to start doing a striptease on the table, which Charlie of course did. They weren't totally banned though, which was an improvement.<p>

Kurt, still slightly shaken by his and Blaine's quick yet electric kiss, headed to his favorite student lounge, taking Pavarotti with him on a whim. The piano there was new and sounded amazing, and Kurt got his feelings out best through song. He couldn't think of the perfect song though, until it hit him. It was too upbeat for the moment, but it worked slowed down.

_It seemed to be like the perfect thing for you and me  
>It's so ironic you're what I had pictured you to be<br>But there are facts in our lives we can never change  
>Just tell me that you understand and feel the same<em>

Kurt wished that Blaine felt the same way, but knew that he didn't. Blaine was uninterested at best, if his awkwardness earlier had been any indication.

_This perfect romance that I've created in my mind  
>I'd live a thousand lives, each one with you right by my side<br>But yet we find ourselves in a less than perfect circumstance  
>And so it seems like we'll never have the chance<em>

_Ain't it funny how some feelings you just can't deny_  
><em>And you can't move on even though you try<em>  
><em>Ain't it strange when you're feeling things you shouldn't feel<em>  
><em>Oh, I wish this could be real<em>  
><em>Ain't it funny how a moment could just change your life<em>  
><em>And you don't wanna face what's wrong or right<em>  
><em>Ain't it strange how fate can play a part<em>  
><em>In the story of your heart<em>

The moment Blaine had kissed him had changed everything in him, chasing away bad thoughts of what they'd talked about the night before and replacing them with something akin to bliss, but he knew it wasn't real, brought on by a silly game and nothing else. The lyrics were truly perfect.

_Sometimes I think that a true love can never be  
>I just believe that somehow it wasn't meant for me<br>Life can be cruel in a way that I can't explain  
>And I don't think that I could face it all again<br>_

_I barely know you but somehow I know what you're about  
>A deeper love I've found in you and I no longer doubt<br>You've touched my heart and it altered every plan I've made  
>And now I feel that I don't have to be afraid<em>

Every word of that verse was true. The entirety of society had deemed he could never be in love. Life was cruel to everyone like him, yet he had found Blaine, this boy who was so perfect for him. He had always believed he would never even meet another proud gay boy until college. Blaine had changed everything about his life, and he was so grateful for that.

_Ain't it funny how some feelings you just can't deny  
>And you can't move on even though you try<br>Ain't it strange when you're feeling things you shouldn't feel  
>Oh, I wish this could be real<br>Ain't it funny how a moment could just change your life  
>And you don't wanna face what's wrong or right<br>Ain't it strange how fate can play a part  
>In the story of your heart<br>I locked away my heart  
>But you just set it free<em>

_Emotions I felt  
>Held me back from what my life should be<br>I pushed you far away  
>And yet you stayed with me<br>I guess this means  
>That you and me were meant to be...<em>

Kurt stopped singing there, because the bridge wasn't true. He had never pushed Blaine away, and as much as he wished otherwise, they weren't meant to be, because Blaine wasn't interested in him. He stood up from the piano and wandered over towards Pavarotti.

"Hey, there." Kurt whistled the first few notes of _One_ from _A Chorus Line_ but Pavarotti didn't answer. Reaching the canary's cage, Kurt started to notice the feathers spread out at the bottom. "Pav? Are you okay?"Logically, Kurt knew the bird wasn't actually going to answer him, but he didn't know what else to do, so he texted the first person he could think of that might.

To: Blaine  
><em>'I think something's wrong with Pav. Can you come here? We're in the Clerik building, the lounge on the second floor.'<em>

Kurt mentally chanted pleas that Pav was okay, checking over the bird with his eyes as best he could without taking him out of his cage.

* * *

><p>It took about ten minutes for Blaine to get there, and every second was nerve-wracking for Kurt. "I got your text, what's wrong?" Blaine had changed back into his school uniform to come into one of the academic buildings, as Kurt had. Apparently, even on weekends teachers didn't like to see students out of uniform.<p>

"It's Pavarotti, I think he's sick. I-I've been taking good care of him but h-he won't sing and he's losing his feathers." Blaine walked over as Kurt stuttered, apparently his new nervous tick, to take a look at Pav.

"Oh, he's just molting." What did that mean? "He's growing a new coat of feathers, so his body has to shut down a little." Oh good, he's okay. "Don't worry about it," Blaine added with a little laugh which was not appreciated by a very on-edge Kurt._._ "He's got food, water," Blaine leaned back to sit a little too close next to Kurt on the couch, "he seems to like his cage. Just give it a little while. He'll be singing again in no time." Blaine smiled at him, placing his hand right next to, but not exactly on, as if just trying to frustrate him, his knee.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Blaine added, "Don't forget, Warbler's practice tonight at five. Regionals here we come." Blaine patted his knee quickly before leaving. Kurt glanced at his retreating figure with a little bit of longing, before glancing back at Pavarotti. Smiling slightly at how much Blaine cared and knowing that everything he'd said about Pav applied to Kurt's transfer, he picked up Pavarotti and headed back to the Stevenson dorm.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, I'm sure you all hate me for messing up Blaine, but the boy can't be **_**perfect**_**.**

**Songs used:  
><strong>_'Good Morning, Baltimore' _from _Hairspray  
>'Ain't It Funny' <em>by J-Lo

**Next on Meet the Warblers: Christmas, **_**Baby It's Cold Outside**_**, and Warbler-family bonding fluff!**

**Reviews are Love.  
><strong>


	7. Baby It's Cold Outside

**A/N: A few pairing bits are dedicated to YourEyesLikeStars, you know which ones. All Charlemagne information is from Wikipedia. Read on.**

_Kurt singing_**  
>Blaine singing<em><br>Them singing together_**

* * *

><p>"I feel it's only fair to warn you now," Blaine said with a small sigh, sitting next to Kurt at the break table. "Dalton goes a little bit mistletoe-crazy. There is no way to get out of kissing someone, it's inevitable."<p>

"Why do they even put up mistletoe at an all-boys Catholic school?"

"It's mostly the seniors, but nobody around here really has any shame. Have you heard the term 'heteroflexible' before?" At the shake of Kurt's head, Blaine continued, "Well, 'I'm straight but shit happens,' which I've heard you say before, is the _definition_ of heteroflexible, and also the philosophy of every 'straight' boy at Dalton. There's usually a contest for who gets the most kisses. Wes and Charlie are usually the top competitors," Blaine grinned, obviously remembering past competitions.

"Is there any chance at all of being uninvolved in this little contest?" Kurt really wasn't comfortable with kissing perfect strangers, or even the Warblers he had come to know, at least not yet. A kiss would never really be a minor thing to him.

"None whatsoever. Wes in particular will drag you into this, if only for 'Warbler bonding.'" Blaine rolled his eyes at the idea.

"Warbler bonding seems to be a terrible idea. Are there any restaurants near Westerville that the Warblers haven't been banned from?" No, Kurt _wasn't_ thinking of date possibilities. It just came out like that somehow, he had no control over it.

"Very few."

* * *

><p>Blaine had been <em>more<em> than right about the mistletoe. By the next day, Wes and David had both, separately, kissed probably every inch of his face. Charlie had no reservations _at all_ about kissing him on the lips, which made him cringe slightly every time it happened, but thankfully most boys just slapped wet kisses to each others' cheeks. He had yet to run into Blaine underneath the mistletoe.

At the moment, he had just left AP Calc, and was worrying about his catch-up work, walking rather mindlessly, never a good idea during the holiday season at Dalton. "Mistletoe," Blaine warned him, sneaking up on him but steering him clear of the _evil_ bundle by the elbow. "What are you worrying about?" He knew him so well.

"AP Calc," Kurt admitted, side-stepping yet another bundle.

"That's what you get for being a little genius," Blaine teased lightly, rolling his eyes as Charlie bounded up and smacked a kiss to his cheek. "I'm not even under any mistletoe," he said to the other boy.

"I know." Charlie smirked.

"You're irritating."

"You love me. Plus, I needed the point. Wes is almost beating me." With that, he flounced away, kissing random people as he went.

"What are you doing tonight? I was hoping to maybe get away from the madness a little, possibly introduce you to the best coffee place near Westerville." Blaine sounded hopeful, and it sounded _so_ much like a date that Kurt wanted _so badly_ to say yes, but..

"I have a lot of studying to do. Ms. Swartz, devil take her, is not making me catch up in work, but making me read a specific book and do a report on Charlemagne." Kurt's glare cleared up any doubts on his thoughts on the matter. Yes, he knew he was glaring into thin air and he must look absolutely ridiculous to anyone watching. No, he didn't care.

"Have fun. My suggestion would be the lounge up on the top floor of the Dalton building. It's nice and warm, there's a fireplace, and _no_ mistletoe." Blaine grinned.

"Is that even possible?" Kurt asked in awe.

"Mrs. Girouard goes to her lunch there, and she got tired of boys coming in and out trying to kiss her on the cheek, though why anyone would want to is a mystery to me." Blaine shuddered rather dramatically at the thought. "So, she banned mistletoe from that area, and no one dares take on the wrath of Mrs. Girouard. Most students have too much fun with their game to go up there near Christmas, but it's generally my escape."

"Thank you for the head's up," Kurt smiled at the other boy as they walked together through the door to AP Physics.

* * *

><p>"¡Feliz Navidad, Kurt! ¿Entusiasmado por las vacaciones?" Michael said, Spanish better with Kurt as his semi-tutor. Ms. Dafni had once again paired up the class to chat. All Kurt heard was "Feliz Navidad" every few moments.<p>

"Hasta cierto punto. La navidad será muy distinta este año." Kurt had told Michael, in Spanish of course, a lot about his dad and Carole.

"No entiendo porqué, pero me sumo al sentimiento."

"Así que, ¿cómo es la navidad en tu casa?" Kurt asked, eager to change the subject.

"Muy religiosa," Michael laughed. "Casi dolorosamente tal. Más allá de eso, es un evento familiar promedio, bastante entretenido."

"Sí, en una mansión gigante.," Kurt teased.

"Quizás," Michael was obviously joking, but Kurt had a feeling it wasn't far from the truth. Kurt had learned early on that he was part of a very small percentage of people at Dalton who had reduced tuition or a scholarship. The majority of kids, including Blaine, were _extremely_ wealthy.

"Sabes, algún día quizás lleguemos a trabajar en la clase de español." Michael just grinned.

* * *

><p><em>Charlemagne was the eldest child of Pepin the Short and his wife Bertrada of Laon, daughter of Caribert of Laon and Bertrada of Cologne. Records name only Carloman, Gisela, and a short-lived child named Pippin as his younger siblings. The semi-mythical Redburga, wife of King Egbert of Wessex, is sometimes claimed to be his sister, sister-in-law or niece, and the legendary material makes him Roland's maternal uncle through a lady Bertha. On the death of Pepin, the kingdom of the Franks was divided—following tradition—between Charlemagne and Carloman. Charles took the outer parts of the kingdom, bordering on the sea, namely Neustria, western Aquitaine, and the northern parts of Austrasia, while Carloman retained the inner parts: southern Austrasia, Septimania, eastern Aquitaine, Burgundy, Provence, and Swabia, lands bordering on Italy.<em>

Kurt heard a thump from in front of him and looked up to see that his best friend had placed a boom box on one of the end tables. "Hey," Blaine said with a smile.

"You scared me." Kurt returned the smile.

"Well, good, because I'm actually Marley's ghost and I'm here to tell you to stop studying so hard." Kurt smiled at his friends silly antics, raising his eyebrows and giving him a 'you're crazy' nod as Blaine acted out a ghost with his hands before sitting down across from Kurt.

"What's with the boom box?"

"I need you to sing with me. Well, rehearse with me," Blaine explained at Kurt's look, even though the countertenor was secretly nodding and bouncing from happiness inside. "I got a gig singing _Baby It's Cold Outside_ in the King's Island Christmas Spectacular." It took a spectacular amount of will power not to giggle at Blaine's little 'spectacular' hand motion.

"Ah, a personal favorite. Too bad they'd never let us sing it together." Blaine's eyebrows creased. "I mean as two.. artists." Smooth, but Blaine made a little 'mhm' noise, seeming to accept Kurt's explanation.

"So you gonna help me out here?"

"Anything to get me to stop reading about Charlemagne."

"Very good then." Blaine smiled, shutting Kurt's book, and walking over to turn on his boom box. At the music's start he made a (_cute_) little pivot and jump-step, before gesturing in a very 'after you' way for Kurt to begin.

_I really can't stay_**  
><strong>**But, baby, it's cold outside**  
><em>I've got to go away<strong><br>**_**But, baby, it's cold** **outside**  
><em>This evenin' has been<em>  
><strong>Been hoping that you'd drop in<strong>  
><em>So very nice<strong><br>**_**I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice**

Kurt danced away from Blaine, playing coy, having fun as Blaine chased him. They never quite touched, Blaine pulling his hands away just as they before they lay on top of Kurt's.

_My mother will start to worry**  
><strong>_**Beautiful, what's your hurry?**_  
>My father will be pacing the<em> floor**  
><strong>**Listen to the fireplace roar**  
>So<em> really, I'd better scurry<em>**  
>Beautiful, please don't hurry<strong>  
><em>But maybe just a half a drink more<em> **  
>Put some records on while I pour<br>**

Kurt danced towards Blaine this time, trying and failing to not be obviously flirting. It looked like Blaine was flirting back though, or just having fun with the song anyway. Kurt had to think to remember his line as Blaine called him 'beautiful'.

_The neighbors might think_**  
>Baby, it's bad out there<strong>  
><em>Say, what's in this drink?<em>**  
>No cabs to be had out there<strong>  
><em>I wish I knew how<em>**  
>Your eyes are like starlight<strong>  
><em>To break the spell<em>**  
>I'll take your hat, your hair look swell<strong>

Kurt smoothly flowed his way around the back of the couch, grinning privately to himself as Blaine followed. Kurt smiled brightly, loving how playful and relaxed the song was, the kind of 40s romance that he always dreamed of. Yes, he was a hopeless romantic, and he knew that. They were just rehearsing. Which meant he could flirt a little, harmlessly, and Blaine would think nothing of it.

_I ought to say no, no, no, sir_**  
>Mind if I move in closer?<strong>  
><em>At least I'm gonna say that I tried<em>**  
>What's the sense in hurting my pride?<strong>  
><em>I really can't stay<em>**  
>Baby don't hold out <strong>**  
><em>Oh but it's cold outside<em>**

Kurt had lead their little dance over to the piano. Sitting on the bench, Blaine played the piano part over the music during the instrumental bridge, surprising Kurt by seeming completely comfortable with the instrument, even though playing with one hand looked a little awkward.

_I've got to get home_**  
>But, baby, you'll freeze out there<strong>  
><em>Say, lend me a coat<em>**  
>It's up to your knees out there<strong>  
><em>You've really been grand<em>**  
>I thrill when you touch my hand <strong>  
><em>But don't you see?<em>**  
>How can you do this thing to me?<strong>

_There's bound to be talk tomorrow_**  
>Think of my life-long sorrow<strong>  
><em>At least there will be plenty implied<em>**  
>If you caught pneumonia and died <strong>  
><em>I really can't stay<em>**  
>Get over that hold out<strong>

Blaine gestured to Kurt to sit, who shrugged, and they sat together. The most awkward moments of the song had been in those stanzas. Blaine leaned so close, Kurt had to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss him, damn the song. The obviously practiced and intended entirely for dramatic effect bedroom eyes didn't help at all.

_**Ohhh, baby, it's cold outside**_

They both smiled at each other as the song ended, then Blaine looked away with a little chuckle. Kurt knew he was blushing, slightly, so the only thing to say was "I think you're ready."

"Well, for the record," Blaine said, getting up. "You are much better than that girl's gonna be." With that, he walked out, leaving Kurt to stare after him. Kurt blinked, shocked, as Blaine passed Mr. Schuester on his way out with a nod.

"Mr. Schuester," Kurt walked over and hugged the older man, with some of that random laughing you do after you see an old friend.

"Good to see you, Kurt. Someone special?" He wished.

"No, just a friend." Despite your wishes, Glinda added, again. "But on the upside, I'm in love with him, and he's actually gay. I call that progress." Kurt repeated Rachel's words on the phone. Holy hell, white boy, in love with him? Are you out of your mind? You met him two months ago for crying out loud! Can we please not go down this road- Kurt cut Glinda off and shoved her to the corner of his mind.

"How you doing?" Mr. Schuester said with a slight sigh, for reasons unknown.

"The classes are harder, but the kids are kinder." And crazier, Glinda added with a slight pout. "But I miss you guys a lot though. So what brings you here? Are you looking for teaching at a place where pencils aren't primarily used as weapons?"

"Actually," Mr. Schuester said, clapping a hand on Kurt's shoulder, "I need some holiday help." He drove two hours for holiday help? "I don't know if you know this, but I am really bad at Christmas shopping." He didn't know it, but he believed it.

"This year," Mr. Schuester picked a piece off of one of the chess boards, guaranteeing that he'd have some Dalton boys mad, "I drew Sue in the office pool Secret Santa," ooh, that's going to be a challenge. Kurt immediately started thinking of possibilities, "And I-I-I tell ya, I can't think of anything good. And you are so great at shopping, I though I'd.."

Kurt grinned as Mr. Schuester trailed off. Nothing like an ego boost to get the ideas flowing. "I have the perfect idea."

* * *

><p>"So what did your old director want?"<p>

Kurt and Blaine were relaxing in what they jokingly called 'the mistletoe repellent lounge.' Blaine hadn't mentioned singing _Baby, It's Cold Outside_ and Kurt didn't want to say anything either. They had such great chemistry, there was something just magical about the two of them singing together.

"Kurt?" Blaine looked mildly concerned, but probably believed Kurt has been studying. As if you could retain anything you read with he's in the room. For once, Kurt agreed with Glinda.

"Sorry, I just find Egypt so fascinating." Lies, Glinda laughed, but it was a valid excuse. They were reading a little bit of history on Egypt for English, and Kurt did find it interesting. There was just something much more interesting opposite him. "Mr. Schuester just wanted a true fashionista's advice on what to get Coach Sylvester for Secret Santa."

The trip to the mall had been very boring, and Dick's Sporting Goods (the one store he had hoped to never visit) had surprisingly had exactly the fur-lined female tracksuit top he had planned. He was surprised, to say the least. It hadn't been bad to see his old teacher again either, although asking him how the New Directions were doing was_ clearly_ the wrong thing to do. Mr. Schue had spent most of the time ranting about their various dramas, stopping only to instruct Kurt to call him Will now that the countertenor was no longer his student.

"Well, he chose the right person. No one knows fashion better than you." It was absolutely infuriating that Blaine could compliment him like that, and not even look up from his french book.

"True. So, why.. do you know who you're singing with at the Kings Island Christmas Spectacular?" So, he'd chickened out. He was going to ask 'why rehearse Baby, It's Cold Outside with me instead of a girl from Crawford Country Day?' He had discovered that the guys had the option to rehearse with the girls from the Dalton sister school a few miles down the road. Quite a few came up every day to ask teachers questions, or for help, or to use the Dalton library. Anyway, how do you ask a question like that without appearing to have motivations? Not that he didn't have motivations.

"No idea. I won't know until the first and only rehearsal, the day before the show," Blaine lied quickly. The Kings Island Christmas Spectacular had been canceled three years ago. He considered himself incredibly lucky that Kurt didn't know that, though he had no idea what he would do if Kurt asked when the show was.

"When's the show?" Naturally, Kurt would ask the one question Blaine specifically hoped he wouldn't.

"The day after Christmas," Blaine lied through his teeth. "It's in Columbus."

"Oh. Well, as much as I would love to watch a mildly-talented-bubble-brained performer attempt to recreate the wonderful work of Ella Fitzgerald, the week around Christmas is usually family time."

"'Usually'?"

"I don't know what Christmas is going to be like this year. I'm pretty sure that Finn has a game of some sort, that I have no hope of understanding, a day or two after Christmas." Hesitating for a second, Kurt added, "I'd rather be at your show though. I'm sure you'll be phenomenal."

"Thank you, but it's not a big deal. My parents aren't even coming." Blaine smiled, but couldn't entirely mask the hurt. Not the hurt of his parents not being at this non-existent show of his, but them not coming home for Christmas at all.

"Why wouldn't your parents come?" Kurt understood better that he cared to admit about lack of interest from parents. Not that his dad didn't love him, but Kurt wasn't stupid, he knew his dad didn't enjoy his cheering and Glee competitions, preferring Finn's football, basketball, and baseball games.

"I'm sure my mom would want to, but they're in Honolulu for Christmas. They don't like the cold. And, before you ask, no, I don't know why we live in Ohio if they don't like cold weather."

"Oh, well, Honolulu should be fun." Blaine was surprised there wasn't an ounce of jealousy in Kurt's tone.

"Actually, I'm staying here. They'll be back before New Year's, and we'll celebrate then."

"There is no way in hell that I'm letting you stay here for Christmas." Kurt couldn't imagine Christmas without his family and friends. Swearing was below Kurt's usual standard of behavior, but for this he would make an exception.

"Why do you care?" Blaine realized that came out wrong when he saw Kurt's angry expression. "I meant about Christmas. You don't even believe in God."

"I believe in family, in magic, and in presents. Isn't that what Christmas is all about? Besides, you don't believe either."

"What makes you think that? My parents sent me to a Catholic school for a reason." Kurt was shocked, which inevitably lead to stuttering. Clearly, watching _The King's Speech_ had been a mistake, and had brought back his childhood stammering.

"I-I, your.. you're Catholic? S-Since when? How d-do you even...?" Kurt was speechless.

"How do I justify it?" At Kurt's nod, Blaine explained. "Well, Jesus said everybody sins, and God will forgive them. If being gay is a sin, and I personally don't think it is, than it is as normal and natural a sin as lying. That's where the Catholic perspective is skewed." Blaine paused a moment, judging Kurt's expression before saying "You're freaking out. Why are you freaking out?"

"Just, to be frank, shocked the hell out of me." Once again, he could make an exception on his no-swearing rule to express the intensity of his emotions.

"I probably should have mentioned that earlier. Don't worry, though, I'm not going to act like Mercedes did and try to shove God down your throat. To each his own," he quipped. Besides, his faith didn't mean nearly as much to him as Kurt did.

"Somehow, I wasn't worried, considering you haven't done so previously, to the point at which I though you shared my beliefs." Way to be formal. "Going back to the purpose of this conversation, I'm not letting you be here without any Warblers or family, especially not of Christmas."

"Kurt, you really don't have to-"

"Uh-huh, shut up. Anyway, you should come home with me. For Christmas at least. Please." Kurt looked at him with the most convincingly pathetic puppy-dog eyes he'd ever seen, and Blaine knew he would cave.

"Not the puppy-dog eyes," Blaine begged.

"Just stay at my house for Christmas, I'm sure our families won't mind." If it was even possible, Kurt's eyes got more pleading.

"You know, you should probably ask your dad before you invite strangers to your home."

"I've told my father and Finn about you," as well as everybody else.

"Well, I suppose..."

"Yay!" Kurt squeaked, before realizing how embarrassing a sound like that was.

"Don't get so excited, Hummel," Blaine joked.

Blaine knew relenting wasn't the best choice, but he had fallen to Kurt's puppy-dog eyes. The way his face lit up when Blaine said yes was completely work whatever would happen during his stay at the Hudmel's. He would be able to restrain himself, and not hurt Kurt, himself, or anyone else. It would all be fine, he knew it.

"It'll be fun, I promise!" Kurt exclaimed with a bright smile. "Now I should go call my dad, maybe I can even get out of Finn's game and go to your show." Not waiting for Blaine's answer, Kurt stood up and hugged Blaine quickly before racing off. This was slightly more of a problem.

* * *

><p>"So, the Warbler's bonding event is tonight!" Wes announced excitedly at lunch the next day. "I've contacted all your parent's and they will all be here at around 6. We will be going to dinner, and then coming back to Dalton, where we will perform a number for them. Warblers practice is from 2:30 - 5. Everyone needs to be on their best behavior tonight." Wes sat back down and the Warblers continued talking, most groaning about the upcoming bonding event.<p>

"So, I was watching One Girl, Five Gays again last night," Wes said, sitting next to Kurt.

"I hate it when you watch that show," Blaine murmured from his other side.

"Me too," Kurt agreed.

"Am I not allowed to ask you questions anymore?" Wes asked with a pout.

"Go ahead, Wes." Charlie grinned, pulling up a chair next to Blaine.

"Top or bottom?" As usual, Kurt flushed and ignored the question, Blaine rolled his eyes, and Charlie grinned. Recognizing the familiar situation, the Warblers around the table were trying and failing to listen subtly.

"Top," Charlie responded with a smirk, earning himself a shocked look from everybody at the table but Blaine.

"Well, that wasn't the answer I expected. Blaine?" Wes had been the first to regain his composure.

"It's none of your business, Wesley, as usual."

Wes just ignored him and said, "Come on, Blainey, we want to know." After Blaine ignored him he added, "If you don't tell us, we'll just ask Charlie." Kurt wondered exactly how Wes knew Charlie would know.

"Versatile," Blaine answered in a clipped tone. Kurt couldn't help but think 'damn'.

"Kurt?" Wes made it a point to completely ignore Kurt's innocence whenever he asked this kind of question.

"None of your business, as usual," he mimicked Blaine.

"I can't think of anyone who would know either." Wes' idea of what was his business was far from correct.

"Except maybe Blaine," Charlie grinned. Blaine ignored him. "Ooh, Blaine's being all secretive! I bet he does know."

"Why does everyone assume I know things when I don't say anything." Blaine rolled his eyes. "And as for your question, I have no idea, and I think you should leave Kurt alone." Kurt shot him a grateful look.

"Okay. Jeff?" Wes called across a couple of tables. "Come here for a second." The eager young Warbler obediently walked over to Wes. "Top or bottom?"

"W-what?" Jeff spluttered, his voice rising several octaves.

"I know you're blond, but I'm talking about you and Nick, duh," Wes said, like it was a well-known fact, like the two of them had been together, openly, for months.

"For the last time, Wes, there is nothing going on between me and Nick." Jeff seemed frustrated, but he was blushing.

"Yeah, that's like saying there's no tension between Blaine and Kurt, stupid and untrue." Both boys mentioned rolled their eyes and ignored Charlie, though Glinda agreed.

"Who's your new fuck-buddy, Charlie? He's hot." Michael had been silent throughout the rest of the conversation but joined in to tease Charlie.

"His name is Lucas, and believe me, I know." Charlie smirked.

"Lucas who?" Everyone turned to look at Kurt, who was usually silent whenever they were talking about Charlie's 'friends.'

"Montressor, I think."

"Blond hair, amazing abs, about 6 feet tall?" Kurt fanned himself as he said 'amazing' and everybody laughed.

"You know him?" Charlie raised his eyebrows.

"Not like you do." Charlie shrugged unashamedly. "He was a Cheerio, second soloist in fact."

"One, I didn't know he goes to McKinley. Two, he's a male cheerleader? Hot."

"Careful, Charlie, I'd think you were interested," Kurt joked. He knew Charlie didn't think of him that way anymore.. or he hoped.

"You were a cheerleader?" Charlie leered, noting how Blaine's hands clenched on the table until his knuckles turned white.

"Well, Lucas was second soloist, who do you think was first?" Kurt smirked a little.

"Hot."

"Why, thank you." Kurt smiled, relaxed because he knew Charlie didn't mean anything by it.

"Could you two stop flirting for like five seconds?" Blaine growled.

"We were kidding, Blaine, stop being such a drama queen." Charlie rolled his eyes at his best friend. Kurt just looked confused. Of course he's jealous, you're flirting with his ex-flame, Glinda reasoned.

"So," Wes began, dropping into what Kurt privately called his 'council persona,' what number shall we do?"

* * *

><p>"So is your brother coming to the Warbler-bonding-inevitable-catastrophe-event?" Kurt tried to be polite as they talked before practice began. Blaine still seemed mad at him for what happened at lunch.<p>

"Yeah, he is, and Lila too." Blaine answered without looking at Kurt, seemingly having a silent conversation with Charlie, who had invited himself to practice.

"I didn't know you have a sister."

"She goes to Sarah Lawrence, and she's scarily similar to Kat Stratford in other ways," Blaine grinned, knowing Kurt would get the reference.

"Oh, look who's not mad at me." Kurt responded, just a little bit cattily.

"I wasn't.. Sorry." Blaine decided explaining would only be awkward.

"What were you going to say?"**  
><strong>

"I wasn't mad at you," Blaine grimaced, because how was he supposed to explain this?

"Well that who were you mad at?" Kurt looked really confused.

"Charlie, for hitting on you. It's just... I love the boy, but he doesn't treat guys well, and you're not that kinda of guy." It wasn't a lie, per se, it just wasn't the whole truth.

"I can take care of myself, Blaine. I already turned him down." Blaine growled slightly at that, because Charlie knew he liked Kurt.

"Sorry," he apologized again, still steaming.

"It's okay. What's your brother's name again?" Kurt completely changed the subject.

"Everett. Is Finn coming?" Blaine tried to keep his cool.

"I think he is. Rachel isn't though, they finally broke up." Kurt rolled his eyes, because, honestly, how many times could those two break up and get back together before they finally figure out their not right for each other?

"Over what?" Blaine found New Directions' drama hilarious, probably because he didn't have to deal with a sobbing Rachel over the phone almost every night, as well as a zombie-Finn.

"She found out that he had slept with Santana while she was dating Jessie, She's mostly mad because he didn't tell her and..." Kurt continued talking, but Blaine zoned out.

Once Kurt had stopped, Blaine rolled his eyes and said, "Wow, they're the most messed-up couple ever," which seemed to be the right response.

"I know. I would never want to be in a relationship like that."

"Me neither."

"All right, Warblers, listen up!" Wes banged his gavel, and practice began.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, Blaine and Kurt are spending Christmas together. May I just point out that there is nothing in canon that suggests this couldn't have happened? I apologize for any errors, but I wrote typed this quickly, and didn't really double-check. I hope you liked this chapter. There will be more Christmas-y fluff! There might even be a last class before break scene in Mr. Bressler's room! Yay! **

**Reviews are love.**


	8. I Run to You

**A/N: The first time my editing has messed with you guys. Yep, I rearranged the chapters.**

**Blaine singing**  
><em>Kurt singing<em>**  
><strong>_**Blaine and Kurt singing  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>"Hey kiddo," Burt said with a smile as he got out of Carole's Honda.<p>

"Dad!" Kurt ran to hug his family. Despite the fact that he was commuting, he never really got time to spend with them. Carole worked weird shifts, Finn always had practices or games, and his dad had been spending a lot of time at the shop. Thanks to the fact that Kurt had asked his Uncle Andy to pick up the slack, all his dad had to do was catch up on the books, but it was still taking him some time.

"Hello sweetheart," Carole said with a smile at the same time Finn said, "Hey dude."

"Don't call me dude," Kurt said automatically as he gave Finn a quick hug. Over Finn's shoulder he saw a girl hug Blaine.

"How's Dalton?" Carole was the first one to ask.

"It's pretty nice. Much different that McKinley in every way possible, but that's certainly not a negative thing." Well, most of the time it wasn't a negative thing.

"I'm glad," Burt said gruffly.

"Hello Kurt, Finn, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel," Blaine said politely, walking up towards the Hudmel family. Flanking him were a boy and a girl, who were obviously Everett and Lila.

Lila was very pretty, Kurt noticed. She had blonde hair that did remind him of Julia Stiles', but shorter, pulled into a ponytail, was a few inches taller than both her brothers, had the exact same ears as Blaine, as well as his hazel eyes, and had high cheekbones. Everett could have been Blaine's twin, except for his eyes, which were a dark blue. He was only an inch or two taller than Blaine, and slightly taller than Kurt, and he had no gel in his short curls, but except for that he looked exactly like the younger boy.

"Hey Blaine, Everett, Lila."

"So this is the famous Kurt," Lila grinned, earning herself an elbow in the side from Blaine.

"And this is the famous Blaine," Finn echoed, earning himself a glare and a hard punch on the arm. "Dude!"

"Hello Hudmels, Lila, Evy." Charlie bounced over, parent-free.

"Where are your parents? Oh, and this is Charlie. Finn, close your mouth." Finn had been gaping at the flamboyant boy, probably a little uncomfortable but mostly just surprised.

"Dude, you're the gayest guy I've ever seen!" Finn was still staring.

"I though I told you not to call me Evy," Everett grumbled.

"Thank you, Finno, and whatever, Evy. My parents are chatting about business or lawyers or something formal that I don't care about with Wesley's parents. Lucas is here though." The last thing Kurt has expected was for Charlie's parents to be formal business people.

"Where?" Kurt looked around for the familiar blond hair.

"Bathroom."

"Is this Cheerio's Lucas?" Carole asked. Kurt nodded.

"I don't like him," Burt said gruffly.

"You don't like anyone who could potentially be interested in me." Lucas hadn't exactly been subtle about his very real interest in Kurt.

"Damn right."

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Blaine asked Charlie.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>"What the hell is wrong with you?" Blaine asked angrily as soon as they found an empty classroom, already having interrupted a few provate family conversations awkwardly and embarrassed the crap out of Nick, who was taking advantage of an empty classroom in a more stereotypical way.<p>

"You know, usually when I'm alone in a classroom with a guy, I'm not being yelled at." Charlie wasn't hitting on him, just being Charlie, but Blaine's next words slipped out without permission.

"God, do you hit on everyone?" Blaine exploded.

"Is this about Kurt?" It only made Blaine angrier that Charlie had next-to-no reaction.

"Yes! I can't believe you asked him to sleep with you! He's not that kind of guy, he would never do that!"

"Well, you did." That cooled down and shocked Blaine. The two of them never mentioned that. "And Kurt said no immediately, so stop pissing yourself. If you get this mad wherever somebody flirts with him, you're going to scare him off. In case you haven't noticed, despite what he thinks, he's kind of incredibly gorgeous and incredibly sexy, and other guys are going to take an interest in him. He might even say yes. If you just made your damn move, we wouldn't be having this problem." Charlie wasn't one to lecture people, he really only liked teasing Blaine, but seriously? This was just getting ridiculous.

"I... I'm sorry." Blaine looked shocked.

"Me too. I kinda overreacted. But seriously, just calm down and ask him out." Blaine sighed.

"He doesn't need a boyfriend right now. He needs a friend and mentor, so that's what I'll be. Plus, he doesn't even see me that way." Charlie sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You're such a sweet idiot, you know that?" What's the real reason?" Charlie hadn't known Blaine his whole life, but he knew when his friend was lying, and it was happening right then.

"You're going to laugh at me," Blaine muttered quietly, taking a seat on one of the biology lab tables.

"If we were kidding around, yeah, but we're not. There's obviously something really wrong here, so why don't you just tell me what it is, and we can move past this." Charlie took a seat next to his best friend, wrapping an arm around the distraught tenor.

"Have you ever noticed a pattern about gay relationships?" The question was rhetorical. "Either a gay guy's a slut, like you. Uh, sorry." Charlie shrugged. It was true. "Either he's a slut or he's alone, at least until college. Dalton is wonderful, but I've seen what happens out there, and I never want that to happen to me. I act all... proud, and I know that is or was part of why Kurt admired me, but I kind of wish it would just go away, y'know? I figured I would have some nice, safe, maybe even closeted relationship in New York with someone that was a New Yorker by birth, and would give _me_ strength. I've never had to be strong for someone. I _can't_ be strong for Kurt, as much as I might want to be. He's... _dangerous_ to the perfect world I've clung to for so long. I know he's worth it, but I can't bring myself to..." Blaine trailed off there, and Charlie didn't answer until he'd been silent for at least a minute.

"If I was truly a mean person, I would tell you you're stupid. Yes, a part of me does think that, but... I get it, babe. You're about as comfortable in your skin as he is, and you both probably do need some time. However, someone like _that_ isn't going to wait forever, and I'd hate to see you lose him because you're afraid, and I'm sure you would too. The best thing to do is _talk to him about it_, bitch. If anyone's gunna understand, it's him."

"I can't do that. I just can't." Blaine shook his head vehemently, jumping off the desk.

"Fine. So be it. Just... don't let him get away, all right?" Blaine nodded, and they both headed back to the courtyard. Charlie pretended he didn't notice when Blaine's hand slipped into his for a bit of comfort.

* * *

><p>"That's not good." Not stopping to explain his statement, Kurt said "This is Everett and Lila, Blaine's older brother and sister. His parents are in Honolulu." Turning to the pair, he continued, "This is my brother Finn, and my mother and father." Everybody shook hands.<p>

"Why are Charlie and Blaine fighting?" Lila was obviously the most outspoken Anderson child.

"I don't know honestly," Kurt lied.

"Sure you don't. You're telling me later." Smart girl.

"Fine."

"What, I'm not allowed to know?" Everett was fake-irritated.

"No," Lila and Kurt said at the same time.

"Like you want to know about Blaine's boy problems anyway," Lila rolled her eyes. "I'm surely not inclined to tell you after you broke Marcus' nose the first time you caught him kissing Blaine."

"Did you really?" Finn asked with a laugh.

"You two would get along, if only on the basis of sports and ridiculous protectiveness. I swear- Lucas!" Kurt completely cut himself off and ran over to hug a blond boy.

"Well, if it isn't the most gorgeous boy in Allen County!" Lucas exclaimed, grabbing Kurt and picking him up to twirl him around.

"Who's that?" Lila whispered to Everett, who shrugged.

"You forgot most talented." Kurt was used to Lucas' compliments.

"My apologies," Lucas joked, dropping Kurt to mock-bow to him.

"Turning to the rest of the crowd, he said, "Hey Finn, Mrs. H, sir."

"I told you not to call me sir," Burt practically growled.

"I know." Lucas grinned cheekily.

Just then, Charlie and Blaine returned. Whatever the two had been fighting about had obviously been resolved. It even lookd for a second like they were holding hands.

"Hey, Lucas." Charlie smiled at his boyfriend and stood on his tiptoes to kiss the cheerleader hard on the lips.

Blaine and Kurt rolled their eyes in sync, Burt looked away, Everett and Lila were whispering quietly to each other, and Carole starting laughing. One look at Finn's face showed why. He was trying so hard not to look away, he looked constipated. Both Blaine and Kurt started laughing, joined quickly by Lila.

"What?" Charlie and Lucas pulled apart with an impressive suction sound.

"Finn's face," Carole choked out.

"Mom!" Finn turned bright red.

"It's true, Finn. You looked absolutely constipated." Kurt figured he probably should be offended, but it was too funny.

"I think we've entered crazy town," Everett murmured to his sister.

"Yes, you have," answered all three Dalton boys.

* * *

><p>Once Wes had managed to gather the Warblers and their guests, he had given up on the term 'parents' once he had met Lucas, in the rehearsal room, he began giving them an extremely long and obviously well-practiced speech. A speech which no one, including his parents, Kurt suspected, was listening to, preferring to talk among themselves. His dad and Carole were involved in a conversation which appeared to be about cars with.. Jeff's dad would be his best guess. Finn and Everett were bonding, probably over sports. Lila and Charlie were chatting as if they had done so many time. Blaine was staring thoughtfully out the window, occasionally glancing back at Kurt or offering a comment to his sister and friend. Kurt himself was talking to Lucas.<p>

"So, how are the Cheerios?" Kurt asked the question he had been dying to ask since the beginning of the conversation, forcing himself to first talk about Dalton and music as not to seem rude.

"You've been dying to ask that since the beginning of the conversation, haven't you?" Sometimes, Kurt swear Lucas could read his thoughts.

"Maybe." Kurt blushed.

"They're fine. We're going to Regionals right after Christmas break, so everyone's pretty excited. We miss you a lot though. Quinn has taken over Head Cheerleader, as you probably know, and she's horrible. She doesn't stand up to Coach for unfair treatment, or dangerous stunts. Hannah broke both her ankle and her wrist in one move. Everyone else thought it was totally dangerous, but Quinn said it was fine, and now Hannah's hurt." Lucas paused. "Why didn't you sign up again this year? I mean, before you came here obviously. Not that it would help much now, but if you had you might not have had to transfer."

"I didn't really want to. I loved being on the Cheerios, spending time with all of you, and, as shallow as it makes me seem, I love winning. But it just, it wasn't me. The Madonna number was amazing and fun, and I love Celine with all my heart, but all the Adam Lambert and Ke$ha songs, they just weren't my kind of performances." Kurt shrugged, ignoring Lucas' thoughts on the Cheerios' reputation protecting him. Dressing in tight clothes did not seem to be a good solution for having a volatile stalker.

"I get that. Sometimes I feel like we're way too Top 40. I mean, we have some phenomenal voices, Santana has been doing most of the numbers where we need vocals now, and we never show them off. We do bubble-gum-pop-shit. Do you know how good Santana would sound singing something like Adele? But no, she has to sing Katy Perry and Rihanna. Makes my blood boil, you know?"

"It's much worse here. Trust me. The song I spied on was Katy Perry, the song we did at Sectional's was that annoying Train song, the only non-Top-40 song I've heard since I transferred was Baby, It's Cold Outside and that wasn't even during rehearsal!"

"When was it then?" Kurt hesitated to tell Lucas, but knew the blond boy would have good advice, probably.

"I was rehearsing, privately, with Blaine. For the King's Island Christmas Spectacular." Lucas looked like he was putting a ridiculous amount of effort into not laughing, and ruining the illusion that they were all actually listening to Wes, who was still talking. "What?"

"Oh, that's rich. Is that what he told you?" Kurt nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Kurt, the King's Island Christmas Spectacular was canceled three years ago. He just wanted to sing with you."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"Because he likes you, bubble-brain." Lucas nudged him in the side, smiling softly. "Who wouldn't?"

"Lucas-" They'd had this conversation before, but Kurt was already completely enamored with Blaine by the time Lucas had clued him in, at the wedding.

Lucas put a finger to his lips. "I know. You like him. I get it. It's okay." At Kurt's disbelieving expression, Lucas laughed softly. "It's fine, really. I have a boyfriend now. I'm happy. I promise. You, however, need to go for it."

"He doesn't like me," Kurt answered, despite the fact Lucas had yet to remove his finger from his mouth. "Trust me, he has no interest in me whatsoever. I've been as obvious as I possibly can, and he doesn't look at me any different that he does Wesley," he gestured to the still-talking boy.

"I'd believe you," Lucas began, moving his hand from Kurt's lips to his thigh, making him jump a little, "but look at how much he's glaring at me."

"It-It's probably because he thinks you're cheating on Charlie," Kurt attempted to justify the absolute loathing in Blaine's expression. "I should probably warn you about him actually. He's kind of a slut, he's just looking for sex, he doesn't really treat guys well."

"Then why would Blaine be upset that I'm 'cheating' on him? And I already knew that, but I can enjoy it while it lasts. I'm certainly not giving it up to him." Lucas snorted.

"You-you're a.." Kurt looked shocked.

"Virgin? Yup. You're not the only one, Kurtsie." Lucas finally took his hand from Kurt's thigh. "I think you're friend's wrapping it up." Sure enough, Wes had stopped talking and was smiling at the audience, who clapped and smiled, as if they had been paying attention.

"So, we'll be heading to the new Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes from here." Most parents looked confused as to why they were going so far, when there were so many restaurants near Dalton, and a few said so quietly. The boys were trying hard not to laugh. "So, cars?"

* * *

><p>After all the planning had been made, Kurt ended up in the back of Wes' mom's car with Blaine next to him and Finn in front of him. Lila was sitting next to Finn and mouthing along to the radio, which was playing some horrible Katy Perry song about tattoos and boys that had left her. Wes' mom was in the passenger seat, and Wes' dad was driving. Blaine was giving him the silent treatment, again, and Kurt had given up trying to talk to him, instead listening to his iPod. Recognizing the song that came on as one of his favorites, he started to sing softly.<p>

_Is this a dream?_  
><em>If it is<em>  
><em>Please don't wake me from this high<em>  
><em>I'd become comfortably numb<em>  
><em>Until you opened up my eyes<em>  
><em>To what it's like<em>  
><em>When everything's right<em>  
><em>I can't believe<em>

Kurt realized from the look he was getting from Blaine that his volume had increased. Taking his headphones out, he was embarrassed to discover that Mrs. Carlton had turned off the radio.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was being so loud," Kurt blushed. "I'll stop."

"No, dearie, you have a beautiful voice. Much better than the 'music' they play on the radio today. Those lyrics are just so atrocious. Why, if my son ever got a tattoo with some talentless two-cent I would disown him. Keep singing, it's alright."

"Yeah, dude, you sounded awesome." Finn smiled, and it was obvious he was trying to support Kurt because he felt bad about what had happened earlier, when he had been confronted with his first gay kiss, not that Kurt cared very much.

"O-Okay." Kurt started to sing a cappella, knowing the song and melody by heart.

_You found me_  
><em>When no one else was lookin'<em>  
><em>How did you know just where I would be?<em>  
><em>Yeah, you broke through<em>  
><em>All of my confusion<em>  
><em>The ups and the downs<em>  
><em>And you still didn't leave<em>  
><em>I guess that you saw what nobody could see<em>  
><em>You found me<em>  
><em>You found me<em>

Blaine looked a mixture of sad and murderous, for some reason. Finn's eyes were flickering back and forth between Kurt and Blaine, trying to figure out what was going on. If only he knew. Nevertheless, Kurt kept singing.

_So, here we are_  
><em>That's pretty far<em>  
><em>When you think of where we've been<em>  
><em>No going back<em>  
><em>I'm fading out<em>  
><em>All that has faded me within<em>

_You're by my side_  
><em>Now everything's fine<em>  
><em>I can't believe<em>

Thinking over the lyrics he was singing, he realized how perfect this song would be for him and Blaine if they ever got together. Outside of his fairytale fantasies that is. Blaine looked more sad now, head leaned back against the seat, but eyes boring into Kurt's own with an expression... Kurt wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with everything that was in that expression. Hopes, disappointments, and a kind of longing that gave the countertenor goosebumps.

_You found me_  
><em>When no one else was lookin'<em>  
><em>How did you know just where I would be?<em>  
><em>Yeah, you broke through<em>  
><em>All of my confusion<em>  
><em>The ups and the downs<em>  
><em>And you still didn't leave<em>  
><em>I guess that you saw what nobody could see<em>  
><em>You found me<em>  
><em>You found me<em>

_And I was hiding_  
><em>'Til you came along<em>  
><em>And showed me where I belong<em>

_You found me_  
><em>When no one else was lookin'<em>  
><em>How did you know?<em>  
><em>How did you know?<em>

Kurt kept the note quieter than Kelly did, but only because he didn't want to hurt anyone's ears. He knew how annoying it was when Rachel belted out notes in the car next to him. Despite the lack of acoustics in any car, it was still horribly loud. Blaine's expression held something else now. Almost... fear?

_You found me_  
><em>When no one else was lookin'<em>  
><em>How did you know just where I would be?<em>  
><em>Yeah, you broke through<em>  
><em>All of my confusion<em>  
><em>The ups and the downs<em>  
><em>And you still didn't leave<em>  
><em>I guess that you saw what nobody could see<em>  
><em>You found me<em>

_You found me_  
><em>You broke through<em>  
><em>All of my confusion<em>  
><em>The ups and the downs<em>  
><em>And you still didn't leave<em>  
><em>I guess that you saw what nobody could see<em>  
><em>The good and the bad<em>  
><em>And the things in between<em>  
><em>You found me<em>  
><em>You found me<em>

By the end of the song, Finn looked really impressed, and Lila and Mrs. Carlton were clapping quietly. Kurt pinked even more.

"Fantastic," Blaine gritted out, expression all of the sudden closed-off. "Can you turn the radio back on now?" Mrs. Carlton shot him a dirty look, but turned the radio back on. The first song that came on Kurt didn't recognize, until Blaine started singing.

**I run from hate, I run from prejudice**  
><strong>I run from pessimists, but I run too late<strong>

Kurt figured Blaine identified with that line after what had happened to him at his old school. Kurt knew the song very well, because Lady Antebellum was a legitimate band, past _Need You Now_, of course. He sang along, ignoring the hostility from beside him.

_I run my life or is it running me, run from my past_  
><em>I run too fast or too slow it seems<em>

_**When lies become the truth**_  
><em><strong>That's when I run to you<strong>_

That line meant more to Kurt than it probably did to Blaine. Whenever he was upset or hurt, he would run to someone else, to Mercedes or Rachel, and especially to Blaine. When had Blaine ever done the same? Suddenly, he felt like a horrible friend.

_**This world keeps spinning faster into a new disaster**_  
><em><strong>so I run to you, I run to you baby<strong>_  
><em><strong>When it all starts coming undone<strong>_  
><em><strong>Baby, you're the only one I run to, I run to you<strong>_

Blaine cringed slightly at calling Kurt 'baby,' as he mistakenly had when Kurt had that nightmare, the first night he stayed at Dalton. The song wasn't at all appropriate (at the moment all he wanted to do was _run_ up and punch Lucas in the face), but Kurt meant something to him, more than anyone else ever had, and this song showed it. The last song had been physically painful for him to hear. He hadn't found Kurt to be Kurt's savior, Kurt had found _him_, and Blaine needed the countertenor more than he would ever know.

_**We run on fumes, your life and mine**_  
><em><strong>Like the sands of time slippin' right on through<strong>_  
><em><strong>And our love's the only truth<strong>_  
><em><strong>That's why I run to you<strong>_

The only part of this verse that mattered was that time was slipping away, without any sign of interest from Blaine. Saying 'our love' was practically physically painful for Kurt, who felt like 'my unrequited love' would be the better lyric. Their harmonies were amazing though. Rachel would be proud of him for noticing that despite the situation.

_**This world keeps spinning faster into a new disaster**_  
><em><strong>so I run to you, I run to you baby<strong>_  
><em><strong>When it all starts coming undone<strong>_  
><em><strong>Baby, you're the only one I run to, I run to you<strong>_

Blaine had turned to face him and was staring into his eyes with an unreadable expression, the same stormy mix of emotions as before, but calmer, as if he was trying to tell Kurt something, rather than as if he was being murdered from the inside.

**Whoa, oh**  
><em>Ooh, I run to you<em>

Finn chuckled slightly at the fact that Blaine and Kurt were so wrapped up in the song and each other that they didn't even notice that Mrs. Carlton had turned the radio back off, and they were now singing completely a cappella to each other. Nobody interrupted them though. Lila wasn't even breathing audibly.

_**This world keeps spinning faster into a new disaster**_  
><em><strong>so I run to you, I run to you baby<strong>_  
><em><strong>When it all starts coming undone<strong>_  
><em><strong>Baby, you're the only one I run to,<strong>_  
><em>I run to you<strong>, I run to you, yeah<strong>_

**Whoa, oh**  
><em>Oh, I run to you<em>  
><strong>I run to you girl, whoa<strong>

Hearing Blaine call him 'girl' had hurt, but just a little. Not as much as the expression from before, now completely gone and replaced with Blaine's usual cool demeanor, had tugged at his heartstrings. Then the two registered the silence.

"Where did the radio go?" Blaine looked away from Kurt and back out the window, but he was relaxed now.

"You two sounded much better." Mrs. Carlton sounded innocent, but she had obviously picked up on the tension in the backseat. Lila was snickering softly.

"Whatever," Blaine said, completely devoid of emotion. Kurt put his iPod back in, and nothing was said for the rest of the trip.

* * *

><p>Wes apparently had a seating chart. Poor Wes didn't account for the fact no one would pay attention to it. Kurt ended up at one of the booths, squished between Blaine, who clearly wasn't mad anymore, and his very confused sister. Across from them was Finn, who, Kurt suspected, was interested in Lila, Charlie, who was the only one at the table talking, and Lucas, who was rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, listening attentively nonetheless.<p>

The restaurant was very nice, decorated slightly like Olive Garden, but classier. In celebration of Christmas, the room was covered in poinsettia's, much like 'the mistletoe repellent lounge.' Looking around, Kurt noticed that parents were mostly grouped together, and their tables were the quietest. The Warblers seemed to be listening to Wes for once, and were acting mostly appropriate. Kurt wondered if it was fear of an angry Wes (who would probably bash their heads in with a gavel) or if it was the presence of their parents that made them behave.

Blaine was humming a song that Kurt didn't recognize, which was unusual. Finn kept kicking Kurt under the table or almost knocking over the glasses behind him. Clearly, right in front of the wine glasses was a dangerous place for an uncoordinated giant to sit.

"Are any of you listening to me?" Charlie finally asked. "Now I know what it feels like to be Wes!"

"I was totally listening to you," Lucas defended himself. The sad part is, he probably was.

"So, what are you guys doing for vacation?" Lila asked, probably tired of the sound of Charlie's voice, as was everyone else at the table. If there was one thing Charlie could do, it was _talk_!

"I'm staying at Kurt's, in case I didn't tell you yet," Blaine offered quietly, not in his very upbeat-sunny-constantly-happy-and-helpful-Warbler's persona, but better than he was in the car, for whatever reason.

"Since when?" Finn asked.

"Since a few days ago. Dad and Carole didn't tell you?" Both his dad and Carole had been happy to have Blaine stay with them, agreeing that no one should be alone on Christmas.

"No. Dude, where's he staying?"

"Don't call me dude, and probably on a blow-up in my basement," Kurt said with a shrug. This didn't seem to be news to Lila at any rate, which made Kurt wonder.. "How come you're not staying with Lila and Everett for Christmas?"

"Everett's going to California with his friends. He's not big on cold weather either. I'm pretty sure he's leaving directly after this little event. Lila's friends are coming to the house, so I don't want to be there." Blaine didn't elaborate, but Kurt faintly remembered a stereotype about Sarah Lawrence girls smoking pot. That would explain it.

"They're not that bad," Lila argued.

"And you're doing that Christmas show." Kurt knew it was cruel to call Blaine out on his lie in front of other people, but he couldn't help it.

"What Christmas show?" Blaine could have slapped his sister right then.

"Oh, you know, the one you asked me to help you rehearse for? The one that was canceled three years ago?" The expression on Blaine's face, coupled with Lila and Finn's laughter, was priceless.

"Charlie!" was automatically the first person Blaine blamed.

"Hey, don't look at me! I always keep your bits of insanity a secret!" Charlie was laughing too, but he was _trying_ (and failing) to be subtle about it.

"The who?" Who else at Dalton paid attention to non-Warbler-showcases?

"Lucas," Kurt answered with a smile at the boy mentioned.

"_Really_?" Blaine asked dryly. He wasn't extremely surprised that Lucas knew, but did he seriously have to tell Kurt?

"Sorry, I didn't know it was a secret." Lucas shrugged.

"So, my question is," Kurt didn't want Blaine and Lucas to start arguing, "why?"

"Temporary insanity, as Charlie said. It's not like you were doing anything better, no teacher actually expects you to do homework so close to Christmas break. They know we slack off, which is why our finals are two weeks after break. Plus, you love to sing, I don't see why you're complaining." Blaine half-lied. It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but Kurt didn't question it.

"I'm not complaining, I was just curious." Kurt rolled his eyes. After a quick pause, "I didn't even know you liked Lady Antebellum." Very subtle of him.

"What's not to like, besides their conforming-to-pop-culture song that didn't sound like them at all? I have no problem with pop music, as you know and frequently make fun of me for, but that was ridiculous."

"I can't even listen to that song. Their self-titled album is so amazing, and then they came out with that single, and I lost all respect for them for a while." This is what it was supposed to be liked with Blaine, natural and fun. Since he had come to Dalton... well, Kurt didn't know what had happened.

"I know, right? And then the other songs on that actual album were incredible. It's just that song! What do you think about-" Lila cut off her brother with a snort.

"You two are idiots, you know that?" Seeing them about to interrupt, she rolled her eyes. "Not about the song, about yourselves. Why don't you just shut up and make out already?" Kurt and Blaine both flushed, Finn looked positively green at the thought, and Charlie and Lucas weren't paying attention at all, obviously feeling each other up under the table.

Ignoring Lila's question, but still slightly pink, Kurt changed the subject. "So, why were you mad at me in the car?" The anger returned to Blaine's eyes.

"Maybe because somebody can't keep his hands to himself." Blaine was surprisingly, glaring at Lucas, who started paying attention at exactly that moment.

"Chill out. Kurt's turned me down, alright? We're close, as friends. Get over it. You can't get all jealous about someone else touching him if you're not going to ask him out yourself." Charlie gave him a sympathetic look, and Blaine wondered how much the cheerleader knew.

"I wasn't jealous," Blaine spit out, still glaring at Lucas, who snorted, unimpressed. "I'm sorry if I didn't want a cheating asshole hitting on my best friend."

"You're an idiot," Charlie joined in the argument. "Lucas wasn't cheating on me. He and Kurt were talking about Cheerio's, why they were talking about cereal I have no idea," one of Charlie's favorite things to do was mock the team's name, "and Kurt was upset. Relax. It's not like you don't put your hand on Kurt's knee or in his hand every five seconds."

"I'm not taken." No one replied. "Whatever. I'm sorry." The apology was clearly to Kurt, and not to Lucas, who didn't seem to care.

Awkward silence hung over the table. The waiter came and went, bringing Kurt his (extremely fattening but extremely worth it) Fettuccini Alfredo. The rest of the Warbler party around them was chatting and laughing. For the first time, a Warbler bonding event seemed to be going smoothly. Kurt had a feeling (and, from the look he shared with him, Blaine agreed) it wouldn't last.

"Is it bad that I, an extremely gay person, am putting a lot of effort into not yelling 'gay baby' right now?" Charlie's question broke the quiet.

"Sometimes I don't know what I'm going to do with you," Blaine responded, rolling his eyes in sync with his sister. Lucas just laughed, obviously whipped.

"So classy, Charlie," Kurt added sarcastically.

Finn, who wasn't (for once) oblivious to the tension still hanging over the table, broke the quick silence following Kurt's comment. "So how bad is being in a dorm of twenty-six talented and opro... oppro... opra..."

"Oppressed," Kurt supplied with a smile at the sense of familiarity Finn's floundering brought.

"Oppressed boys." It took everyone a moment to remember the rest of Finn's sentence and respond.

"Oh, God," Blaine groaned (over) dramatically. Charlie just grinned.

"If you tell him the first thing that comes to your mind, I'm going to kick you so hard.." Kurt left the threat unfinished, but, judging by Charlie's face and how he quickly crossed his legs, he got the idea.

"Hey, I was totally just thinking of how we called Michael 'Cactus Crotch' for two weeks," Charlie tried to lie unconvincingly.

"No you weren't," Kurt interjected.

"I was thinking about Wes' attempt to make stew out of a mink's inner organs he stole from the Anatomy room," Blaine added.

"He _what_?" Kurt screeched.

"Well, that was high-pitched," Blaine teased his affronted-looking best friend before turning to Finn. "So, every year in the spring, all the Anatomy classes dissect minks. Wes was a Junior, but he wasn't actually in the class. David-"

"Who has to control Wes," Charlie added.

"Must you always interrupt me?" When Charlie nodded, Blaine gave up. "Fine, you can tell the story with me. So, David agreed to let him see his almost-completely-dissected mink, to prevent him from wrecking havoc." Blaine sat back and nodded to Charlie.

"David is a kiss-ass, a.k.a. teacher's favorite, so Mrs. Cullen called him over to ask him something. Probably some award or scholarship, who frickin' cares? Anyway, Wes, who'd just gotten back from a cooking class he had to take because nothing else would fit into his schedule and Mrs. Girouard is a bitch, happened to have his backpack with him, with a plastic bag inside. Let this be said for Wes, he's not stupid. He went over to someone else's mink, so David wouldn't notice, and stole most of it's nasty organs." By some odd connection the two had, Blaine started talking immediately after Charlie had finished.

"So, David showed him what all the organs were in his complete mink, and they headed back to Stevenson. Wes claimed he had to try a recipe for the aforementioned class, and cleared everyone out of the kitchen. He prepared what would be normal Tuscan soup, but he decided to add a few extra ingredients, meaning chopped-up organs from the mink."

"Now, like I said, Wes isn't stupid, most of the time. So he didn't cut up the stomach or anything that would spew disgusting shit all over the kitchen. But he decided to add some organs to his soup, as one of his horrid pranks. You remember the Gatorade," Charlie nodded to Kurt. "Well, he finished cooking it, and invited all the Warblers back in to try it. You can finish the story if you really want to." That was addressed to Blaine.

"So, the Warblers were hesitant to try it, due to the pieces of half-cooked mink organs they could see floating in it, though they didn't know that's what the pieces were at the time. Thad, the idiot, decided to try it. He actually ate a bit of the soup. Poor guy. So then, Wes revealed his prank, and Thad... well, no one mentions that anymore." Lila winced, but Kurt and Finn were laughing. Finn noticed that spending time at Dalton had loosened Kurt up enough to be more like a typical teenage boy.

"For the record, the soup was very good the second time, minus the mink. Oh, tell them about the penis cookies." In hindsight, just before Charlie started talking always seemed to be a bad time to take a bite of food. Lila, Lucas, Finn, and Kurt all started choking. Blaine and Charlie, the devils, just laughed.

"So," Blaine began once the four had calmed down. "Wes' girlfriend, Allison, is a little bit out there. She decided it would be an excellent idea to bake penis-shaped cookies for the time Wes went to meet all her friends. Poor guy must have been so uncomfortable, but he's Wes. So, naturally, he brought all the cookies home to the Warblers."

"Reminder, all teenage boys are hungry vultures, they didn't care. Kurt probably has a good idea of it, but Finno, you can't even the amount of blowjob jokes that happened in that hour or so." Blaine and Charlie grinned at each other.

"Wow, no gag reflex, much?" Blaine started.

"You look way too practiced at that." Charlie grinned.

"Relax. You don't have to take all of it if you're not used to it," Blaine continued.

"I think he get's the point," Kurt cut in quickly, fearing what would come out of Charlie's mouth.

"I wanna hear the 'Cactus Crotch' story," Finn said.

"I win!" Charlie did a little happy dance. "As you're probably aware, guys are pretty much shameless, even more so when they've lived together for three to four years. So, a few of the guys who were sophomores last year had come back from the required phys. ed. class. And Michael, for some reason we didn't know at the time, went to the bathroom outside the lounge, instead of in his room. About 5 minutes later, we hear "Jesus fuckin' Christ, son-of-a-bitch, mother fucker"... you get the idea.

"Apparently, he'd been cutting his pubes in there," Lila made a disgusted face, "and cut himself with a really sharp razor." Everyone but Charlie winced. "So, we called him 'cactus crotch' because he had a big ass cut and it was half-shaved."

"Now you see what I have to live with," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"And then of course, there was that night with you idiots, Molly, and Bloody Mary."

"I will never forgive you for that," Charlie sniffed and looked away.

"I've never introduced you to Molly, but she's the lead singer of the Crawford Country Day Songbirds, and she's amazing, as a singer and a person. Anyway, David was tired of being pranked all the time, and he came to me for help. The Bloody Mary prank is really more a girl's prank, so none of the Warbler's really knew it. We just decided to take it a little further. We told the Warblers some ridiculous story-"

"I remember it," Charlie cut in. He obviously couldn't stay mad at Blaine for long enough to resist telling the story. "Mary was an beautiful, innocent angel, beloved of her family and friends, in fifteenth century England. One day, her parents couldn't wake Mary up. They assumed her dead, as her pulse was slowed, and buried her in the backyard, in a closed wooden casket. Back then, the tradition was the closer they were to the heart of the earth, the faster they would go to heaven. So they buried her about eight feet under. Turns out, there were opium plants around the backyard, and Mary had gotten into them, causing her inability to wake up and slow heartbeat. She was buried alive. When she woke up, a day later, she was stuck in her coffin. She screamed and cried until she was hoarse, but no one could hear her. She tore at the wood of the casket with her fingernails until they split and bled, but she could not escape. Half-stoned, starved, and dehydrated, Mary began having hallucinations. She was so sure that she was on fire, she died clawing her own skin off. No one ever knew what had truly happened." Charlie glared at Blaine.

"Wow, I am a good story teller, aren't I?" Blaine asked with a slight smirk, seeing Kurt's goose bumps and Finn's shocked expression. "So, I told all the Warblers this. Then we dared Wes, Thad, and Charlie to try it out in the lounge bathroom, at midnight that night. The legend is you go into a pitch black room with a mirror, say a bathroom, and stare at the mirror and chant, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary" with your eyes closed. When you open them, an apparition of her twisted and scarred body will emerge with bloody hands and come out of the mirror to kill you, because you never answered her cries.

"Well, Crawford Country Day has an excellent drama department, and Molly agreed to help. We dressed her in rags, enough to cover everything important, but not much. Then we covered her in realistic fake blood, drew the shaky scars of her 'fingernails,' and 'bloodied' her hands. You've seen the shower at Dalton, how it's half solid wall, then a curtain?" Kurt nodded.

"We hid Molly, dressed like that, behind the part that is solid wall at about quarter of twelve. We left the curtain open, knowing the idiots wouldn't check. So, the three went in there at midnight, followed the instructions, and chanted together. On her cue, Molly came out as Bloody Mary, and when they opened their eyes, they freaked. The wimps started screaming and yelling, and I-"

"Horrible person that you are," Charlie interjected. Blaine ignored him.

"I had locked them in there. I'm pretty sure Thad actually peed his pants with fear. Molly let them believe she was Bloody Mary for about five minutes, just standing there, eyes wide and hands outstretched like a zombie, hissing and cackling, trying to sound hoarse. Then, I unlocked and opened the door, sending them tumbling out on my feet, and we explained the joke to them."

"We were not impressed. And yes, Thad actually did wet his pants." Charlie was smiling, despite his words.

"Can I live at Dalton?" Finn asked, and everybody laughed.

"Wes did get them back for it by greasing the toilet seat, or he attempted," Charlie added.

"Unfortunately, that backfired on Thad." Blaine grinned.

* * *

><p>Somehow, in the plans for getting back to Dalton, Kurt became separated from Finn, who, he believed, had been whisked away by Charlie for more stories of dorm pranks. Blaine was still next to him though, in a much better mood than on the way there, though still unusually quiet. His dad and Carole were in the seats in front of them, and Mr. Shields was driving, with Everett in the passenger seat.<p>

Burt and Mr. Shields, who had introduced himself as Evan, were talking business. Everett, who was the least outspoken Anderson, was just staring out the window. Carole was occasionally involving herself in the business conversation, but mostly trying to start a conversation with Everett, and receiving one-word answers.

"Is your brother okay?" Kurt interrupted Blaine's Katy Perry monologue.

"Yeah, I think he's fine. He didn't really want to come to this thing, I think he'd rather be in California. I'm pretty sure he only came because Lila demanded it of him. She's had that boy twisted around her finger since birth, probably before." Kurt laughed softly, leaning forward slightly, obviously going to tell Blaine something he didn't want the other occupants of the car to hear.

"So, Christmas is going to be fun, ain't it boys?" Burt called to the backseat, seeing his son lean close to this boy who he didn't quite approve of yet.

"Yeah, definitely, dad," Kurt said with a smile.

"I forgot to thank you, Mr. Hummel, for letting me stay at your house for Christmas," Blaine said politely.

"Not a problem, kid."

"Isn't it a little.. improper for Blaine to stay at your house?" Mr. Shields questioned with a raised eyebrow. Kurt resisted the urge to throttle him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Burt challenged the man's statement.

"Nothing really." Mr. Shields sniffed.

"Hey, listen buddy, I got no problem with-"

"Dad," Kurt could see where this statement was going, "this is Charlie's dad. He's not homophobic," he said bluntly.

"Goodness, no. Not at all. I apologize if you misinterpreted my words, Mr. Hummel. I just don't feel it is appropriate for your son's boyfriend to live at your house for over a week." Why can't we strangle him again? Glinda asked.

"I think you're the one misinterpreting things, buddy. Those two aren't dating.. that I know of." The last part was directed towards the backseat.

"We're not dating!" Both cried out, frustrated. Everett snorted.

"My apologies once again. It appears I have gotten the wrong impression. Though it certainly seems like it."

"He needs to get the stick out of his ass and talk like a normal person," Kurt murmured, just loud enough for Blaine to hear and try to control his laughter.

"They would be dating if Blaine could get his head out of his ass," Everett murmured under his breath, just loud enough for only Carole to hear.

"They're not. Now, what do you do for taxes? That Turbo Tax stuff may be fine for home taxes, but trying to do garage taxes on that thing is like trying to cut grass with a toothbrush." Burt rather obviously changed the subject.

Once the dads had returned to their conversation, and Carole and Everett were whispering conspiratorially, Blaine and Kurt started talking again.

"Why does everyone assume we're dating?" Blaine murmured, frustrated. You're only upset because you wish you were dating Kurt, but way to make Kurt feel undesirable. Elphaba was right, judging by the expression that briefly showed on Kurt's face.

"Maybe because we're so close, so alike, and so open with each other?" Kurt answered coolly.

"True, but that doesn't mean we're dating."

"Or maybe it's just human disposition that there is no way possible for a gay guy to be friends with any male, no matter the circumstances," Kurt spit out bitterly.

"Well, that was shockingly self-loathing. And untrue, but let's deal with the first one first. What happened?" Kurt only said things like that when it related to a specific memory, usually it was Karofsky, but this didn't sound like that.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, that was unnecessary. I'm just bitter." Kurt shrugged. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Blaine asnwered, still a little worried that his friend was upset.

"Why do you not like Lucas?" Crap. That was _not_ a question he had an answer to off the top of his head.

"He just... reminds me of, well, Marcus." It was true. The blond hair, the cocky smirk contrasting with the general sweetheart vibe, the tactile nature. Of course, it wasn't the reason he hated Lucas. He hated Lucas because Lucas was his competition for Kurt (realistically, no relationship with Charlie ever lasted), and he seemed to be confident enough in himself to have the angel next to him.

"Too bad he's not actually open about it like Marcus." Kurt's expression had soured slightly, but Blaine' brightened at the new information.

"Oh?" he asked, perhaps a little too innocently.

"Lucas is in the closet. He told me... well, I figured it out really, but it sucks that he isn't open about it. It would have been nice to have someone around that understood and knew _exactl__y_ what I was going through." Kurt sighed, leaning his head against Blaine's shoulder.

"They really hurt you, didn't they?" Kurt looked up at him surprised. "Not physically, I mean, but I bet they did that too. Mentally, _emotionally_, is what I meant."

"Yeah. I don't think I'm ever going to forget what they did to me," Kurt whispered. "I know it's just ignorance, but being treated _every day_ like I was completely worthless, it... it just killed me." A tear had slipped down Kurt's cheek. Blaine bit his lip, trying not to focus on how vulnerable Kurt looked in that moment. Having met Mr. Hummel, Blaine would probably be dead if he just grabbed Kurt and kissed the hell out of him right here and now.

"Come here," Blaine said softly, wrapping his arms around the boy. Kurt hugged back for just a second, then pulled away, eyes wet, mouthing 'my father.' Blaine just smiled. "He's only so protective because he cares about you," he whispered to the boy.

"That doesn't mean it isn't annoying," Kurt said at a louder volume, drying his eyes with a smile.

"Best airplane story ever," Mr. Shields said at a loud volume, clearly happy with the joke. "So, on a plane to Paris with Charlie, we had an extremely young, flamboyant flight attendant, with a slight southern accent. Just before the plane was set to land, he flounced over towards where we were sitting and announced 'the captain is about to land the big, scary plane now, so if you could put up your trays, that'd be great.' I did so, as did Charlie, who was eye-flirting with the attendant, but the lady next to me did not.

"So back over the flight attendant came. He says 'ma'am, perchance you couldn't hear me over the big, scary engine, but I asked you very politely to put your tray up so the captain can land the plane.' She refused again to do so, and he got angry. She calmly turned to him and said 'in my country, I am called a princess. I take orders from no one.' He replied 'Oh yeah? Well in my country, I'm called a queen and I outrank you, bitch, so put the tray up!'" The car cracked up laughing.

"Do you remember Andy's burglary story?" Burt asked Kurt, who grinned.

"Yes. He's almost better at manipulating people than I am. So, Uncle Andy sees three guys trying to steal from his shed. He calls the police. They ask 'are there any intruders in your home?' Uncle Andy says no, and explains the situation. The police told Uncle Andy that all patrol cars were otherwise occupied, and that he should just lock his door and a uniformed cop would be at his house when one was free.

"Well, Uncle Andy didn't like that answer very much. So he calls back a few minutes later and says 'I just called a short while ago because there were people stealing things from my shed. I want to let you know that they're not a problem anymore because I've just shot every one of them.' In less than five minutes, three patrol cars, a SWAT team, and an ambulance had all arrived at his house. The police, of course, caught the burglars in the act. One of the cops said to Uncle Andy, 'I thought you said that you shot every one of them!' So, Uncle Andy, being himself, answered 'I thought you said there were no patrol cars free!'"

"I feel like I should know be worried about meeting any of your family," Blaine said as soon as everyone stopped laughing.

"Uncle Andy isn't actually my uncle, he's a partner at my dad's garage, but I've known him since I about a day old, so he's just as protective as my dad is." Kurt shared a private grin with Blaine.

"Great," Blaine drew out the word.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh yes, I like this muuuch better, and I hope you guys too :)** **So, Blaine and Kurt are spending Christmas together. May I just point out that there is nothing in canon that suggests this couldn't have happened? The reason I added Lucas and his scenes was I wanted Kurt to get the idea that Blaine maybe liked him, which would help with Silly Love Songs. Lucas is an OC in my head, and I kind of love him. Blaine's kind of really possessive in this chapter, but he's not like psychotic. **

**Songs used:**  
><em>'You Found Me'<em> by Kelly Clarkson  
><em>'I Run to You'<em> by Lady Antebellum

**Reviews are Love.**


	9. A Christmas to Remember

**A/N: Once again, I am messing with the chapters.**

**Blaine singing  
><strong>_Kurt singing  
><strong>Blaine and Kurt<strong>** singing**_  
><span>General Warbler singing<span>

* * *

><p>"May I just congratulate our Warblers that this is the first time a Warbler bonding event has gone smoothly. All we have left is our show and our goodbyes, so please guys, be appropriate. Cough, cough, Charlie, Blaine, Thad, Michael," Wes accused the boys.<p>

"Wesley, what have I ever done to you?" Blaine asked, mock-hurt.

"Quiet, Anderson. Alright, everybody ready? Charlie, you're up." Everyone nodded, and Wes set them up in the wings. Their parents and guests were already in the auditorium.

"Alright. Welcome, friends and family, to our Warbler's Christmas Show. The probability is that Dalton students will be floating in and out during the performance. Please try to ignore them, that's what I do. We have seven fantastic songs for you tonight, so enjoy!" Kurt would forever envy Wes' ability to be calm, relaxed, and amusing while making a speech. Songs, he could do, but speeches, no way. "First up will be Charlie Shields singing _Frosty the Snowman_."

By the middle of the performance, Kurt could see why Wes wanted Charlie to sing this song, despite the fact he wasn't actually a Warbler. It was a great opening number, a classic, and Charlie's youthful sense of magic, as well as his endless energy, made the song amazing. His voice wasn't phenomenal, but it was definitely up to Warbler standard.

"Wow, it turns out Charlie's endless energy and enthusiasm is good for something. I'll remember that next time I feel the urge to strangle him. Next up will be Kendrick Arroyo, singing _Believe_ from _The Polar Express_." Wes was a great master of ceremonies.

Kendrick's voice on the song completely blew Kurt away. He had never seen _The Polar Express_, but he had heard the song before. The original was nothing compared to Kendrick's version. He had the same kind of resonance to his voice, but it was... there were no words to describe it. The emotion he put into the song had several mom's crying.

"Uh... oh... wow... words gone. Amazing. So, our next performer is the newbie, heaven knows why we gave him a solo, and he possibly has the most unique voice I have ever heard. Without further ado, here is Kurt Hummel singing _Winter Wonderland_."

"Break a leg," Blaine murmured from behind him, quickly grabbing and squeezing Kurt's hand. He was technically supposed to be on the other side of the stage, and if Wes saw him it would be hell for him later, but Kurt appreciated the support.

_Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?_  
><em>In the lane snow is glistening.<em>  
><em>A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,<em>  
><em>walking in a winter wonderland.<em>

_Gone away is the bluebird,_  
><em>here to stay is a new bird.<em>  
><em>He sings a love song as we go along,<em>  
><em>walking in a winter wonderland.<em>

_In the meadow we can build a snowman,_  
><em>then pretend that he is Parson Brown.<em>  
><em>He'll say: Are you married?<em>  
><em>We'll say: No man,<em>  
><em>but you can do the job<em>  
><em>when you're in town.<em>

_Later on we'll conspire,_  
><em>as we dream by the fire,<em>  
><em>to face unafraid<em>  
><em>the plans that we've made,<em>  
><em>walking in a winter wonderland.<em>

_In the meadow we can build a snowman,_  
><em>and pretend that he's a circus clown.<em>  
><em>We'll have lots of fun with mister snowman,<em>  
><em>until the alligators knock him down.<em>

_When it snows, ain't it thrilling?_  
><em>Though your nose gets a chilling<em>  
><em>We'll frolic and play, the Eskimo way,<em>  
><em>walking in a winter wonderland.<em>

_Walking in a winter wonderland_  
><em>walking in a winter wonderland<em>

Kurt had learned a long time ago that the best way to kill a solo was to have fun with it. He danced around the stage, smiling and playing in the fake snow falling from the ceiling. The only thing he had to be careful of was not slipping and falling, or tripping over the scenery they had set up.

It was the typical scenery for a winter show. There was a line down the middle of the backdrop that was supposed to be a wall. On the inside of the house the wall was part of was an electric fireplace, Christmas tree, and, of course, presents. On the outside there was snow, a sled, and baby, but real, pine trees. It was quite impressive.

Everyone clapped and cheered for him when he was done, as they had for everyone else, but Kurt was sure he could hear Finn. Relaxing by the electric fireplace, in a way that reminded him of singing with Blaine earlier in the week, he waited for Wes to introduce Blaine to the stage as well.

"I told you his voice was unique. Now, Kurtsie here is going to duet with someone you all know and love, our first soloist and vocal captain, Blaine Anderson." Blaine walked on stage with a presence and confidence that Kurt envied. Kurt strutted on stage to make a statement, Blaine could just walk and look like he belonged there. "Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson in _A Christmas to Remember_."

**Twinkling lights**  
><strong>A chill is in the air<strong>  
><strong>and carols everywhere<strong>  
><strong>Close your eyes, it's almost here<strong>

_Candles and cards_  
><em>And favorite movie scenes<em>  
><em>The smell of evergreen<em>  
><em>As special as it's always been<em>

_**And I have a dream or two**_  
><em><strong>And maybe they will come true <strong>_

_**Setting our hopes on a big snow tonight**_  
><em><strong>We'll wake up to a world of white<strong>_  
><em>It's gonna be a Christmas to remember<em>  
><em><strong>Light up the fire, play some Nat King Cole<strong>_  
><em><strong>Always sentimental and don't you know that<strong>_  
><strong>It's gonna be a Christmas to remember<strong>

**I know it's true**  
><strong>Time doesn't stand still<strong>  
><strong>Many things can change<strong>  
><strong>But we know some things never will <strong>

_The memories we share_  
><em>The songs we always sing<em>  
><em>The mystery of life<em>  
><em>The hopefulness this season brings <em>

_**And I have a dream or two**_  
><em><strong>And maybe they will come true<strong>_

_**Setting our hopes on a big snow tonight**_  
><em><strong>We'll wake up to a world of white<strong>_  
><strong>It's gonna be a Christmas to remember<strong>  
><em><strong>Light up the fire, play some Nat King Cole<strong>_  
><em><strong>Always sentimental and don't you know that<strong>_  
><em>It's gonna be a Christmas to remember<em>  
><em><strong>It's gonna be a Christmas to remember<strong>_

Their duet prompted louder clapping than anything else so far. The two had amazing chemistry and harmonies, and the crowd loved them.

"Well, that was almost unfairly good. Now I finally get to kick Kurt off stage, because our next performance is _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ by Blaine Anderson." Kurt and Wes both exited off stage left, and Wes surprised Kurt by hugging him.

"You were fantastic. Sorry if the newbie or unique comments bugged you, I just try to make the performance less stiff, you know?" Wes pulled away.

"Yeah, it was fine. I envy your ability to MC."

"Acquired talent. Let's go see if the other Warblers are ready." Wes made to drag Kurt backstage.

"I might just stay and watch Blaine's performance." Kurt tugged his arm away, and peaked out onto the stage. Several Crawford Country Day girls were there, and obviously amusing themselves by imagining Blaine was singing to them. Kurt didn't allow himself to be one of those girls for one moment.

**I just want you for my own**  
><strong>More than you could ever know<strong>  
><strong>Make my wish come true<strong>  
><strong>All I want for Christmas is you<strong>  
><strong>You, baby<strong>

**I won't ask for much this Christmas**  
><strong>I won't even wish for snow<strong>  
><strong>I'm just gonna keep on waiting<strong>  
><strong>Underneath the mistletoe<strong>

**I won't make a list and send it**  
><strong>To the North Pole for Saint Nick<strong>  
><strong>I won't even stay awake to<strong>  
><strong>Hear those magic reindeers click<strong>

**'Cause I just want you here tonight**  
><strong>Holding on to me so tight<strong>  
><strong>What more can I do<strong>  
><strong>Baby all I want for Christmas is you<strong>  
><strong>Ooh baby<strong>

**All the lights are shining**  
><strong>So brightly everywhere<strong>  
><strong>And the sound of children's<strong>  
><strong>Laughter fills the air<strong>

**And everyone is singing**  
><strong>I hear those sleigh bells ringing<strong>  
><strong>Santa won't you bring me the one I really need<strong>  
><strong>Won't you please bring my baby to me...<strong>

**Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas**  
><strong>This is all I'm asking for<strong>  
><strong>I just want to see my baby<strong>  
><strong>Standing right outside my door<strong>

**Oh, I just want you for my own**  
><strong>More than you could ever know<strong>  
><strong>Make my wish come true<strong>  
><strong>Baby all I want for Christmas is... you<strong>  
><strong>All I want for Christmas is you, baby.<strong>

The girls were wildly clapping and cheering by the time Blaine was done, and he looked a little uncomfortable at the girls' response.

"Okay, yeah, yeah. Settle down! Hate to break it to you ladies, but wrong team, you're wasting your breath. Seriously, you probably have more of a chance with Kurt," which Kurt was delighted to point out earned quite a few wolf whistles, "oh come on, what is it with girls and gay guys? Anyway, next we have twelve soloists in _The Twelve Days of Christmas_. I present Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Kendrick Arroyo, Charlie Shields, my wonderful self: Wesley Carlton, David Preston, Thad van Heusner, Jeff Adams, Nick Mitri, Michael Cote, Oliver Jalbert, and Mason van Heusner." All the mentioned boys came out to the stage.

_The Twelve Days of Christmas_ was one of the easiest songs to sing and remember. Kurt was the turtle doves. The vocals just went around the circle. It was a fun number to do because twelve people got to sing, but it wasn't the most popular number of their show.

"And last, but certainly not least, I present for your enjoyment, the entirety of the Warblers singing Holly Jolly Christmas!" All the uniformed boys came streaming out from backstage.

Have a holly, jolly Christmas;  
><span>It's the best time of the year<span>  
><span>I don't know if there'll be snow<span>  
><span>but have a cup of cheer<span>

Have a holly, jolly Christmas;  
><span>And when you walk down the street<span>  
><span>Say Hello to friends you know<span>  
><span>and everyone you meet.<span>

Oh Ho the mistletoe  
><span>hung where you can see;<span>  
><span>Somebody waits for you;<span>  
><span>Kiss her once for me<span>

Have a holly jolly Christmas  
><span>and in case you didn't hear<span>  
><span>Oh by golly<span>  
><span>Have a holly jolly Christmas this year!<span>

Everyone clapped and cheered at the end while the Warblers took their bows. Blaine quickly grabbed Kurt's hand to do a duet-bow, and it earned the loudest cheer of the entire show.

* * *

><p>"Well, kiddo, there are a few things we wanted to run by you real quick before we leave. First of all, how would you feel about boarding after Christmas? I know it's a little weird, but the gas prices are ridiculous enough already, and commuting cuts down on your study time." Burt was obviously trying to make Kurt feel like they weren't trying to get rid of him.<p>

"I... think it's a good idea actually, and so do a lot of the other Warblers, as far as timing and everything goes." It took Kurt a moment to say that, but he really did think it was a good idea.

"Great, we'll discuss it when you come home tomorrow, alright?" It was pointless for Kurt to come home today, as he would have no time to study, and be horribly cranky tomorrow.

"You said a few things. That's one." His dad was avoiding something, he could feel it.

"Nothing else you need to worry about for now, kiddo. Go hang out with your friends." Kurt knew a dismissal when he heard it. Just before he was out of hearing range, his dad called him back.

"Yeah, dad?"

"You did great tonight, kiddo." Kurt knew it was hard for his dad to say things like that, but it meant the world to him.

"Thanks, dad." He ran back up to give his dad one more hug before his family left for Lima. Kurt must have been standing there for longer than he thought, because next thing he knew, Blaine was steering him into Stevenson by the elbow.

"You're going to get pneumonia and die," Blaine teased his friends. "Don't dwell on whatever you're dwelling on. Just be happy that the bonding event was mostly painless, and the last day of classes is tomorrow. We have Mr. Bressler last period. It is going to be amazing." Kurt just smiled.

* * *

><p>"I hate you," was the first thing Charlie said at breakfast the next morning, directed straight at Wes. "I am not a Warbler, you should not have put me in that show case."<p>

"Since you have taken the pin and live in Stevenson, I reserve the right to treat you as a Warbler," Wes argued. "You sounded fine, though Blaine and Kurt were clearly the best." Wes sounded tired and had gray circles around his eyes.

"Thanks Wes, and calm down Charlie, you were really good," Blaine said absentmindedly, scanning the breakfast line.

"He's not even out of the shower yet." Charlie smirked.

"I wasn't looking for Kurt, I was looking for..." He clearly needed to think through his lies before he spoke.

"Sure you weren't. As I was saying, he's not even out of the shower, I could hear him singing when I left.

"He's going to be late for breakfast." After a quick look at the clock, Blaine sighed. "I'm going to go get him some food."

Charlie waited until Blaine walked away before commenting. "He's so whipped. I've never even seen someone's actual boyfriend that whipped."

"I know," Wes added. "If they get together-"

"When," Charlie corrected, because Blaine and Kurt were inevitable.

"_When_ Blaine and Kurt get together, they're going to be unbearable." Wes rolled his eyes.

"They already are!" Thad added.

"True. And, from what we know of their voices, they're going to be loud." Charlie put as much of a dirty emphasis as he could on 'loud.'

"They're good together, though," Thad, for all his biting comments, and calling Kurt 'lover boy,' was probably the nicest to the two of them.

"Yeah, they are. I have an idea to bother them," Wes grinned wickedly.

"What?" Technically, it was Charlie's job to bother the almost-couple, he had claimed that, but everyone had joined in the fun after a while.

"How many times a day do you say 'Blaine and Kurt'? They're practically a joint entity. I believe we should begin referring to them as such."

"Oh they're going to hate that!" Charlie yelled excitedly. "Now, we just need a name for them."

"Blurt?" Thad suggested.

"No, Klaine." Charlie had been calling them Klaine in his head since day one.

"Perfect," Wes and Thad said in sync.

"What's perfect?" Blaine asked, coming back with a yogurt and fruit for Kurt.

"Nothing," Wes replied.

"I see Kurtsie," Charlie announced, distracting Blaine.

"I'm late, aren't I?" Kurt came up to the table, looking pristine, but tired.

"Yes, you are, and here is your food." Blaine gestured to the table.

"You are a lifesaver," Kurt said over dramatically, kissing Blaine quickly on the cheek.

"W-Why are you so tired?" Charlie winked at Blaine when he stuttered, earning a glare.

"Didn't sleep well." Kurt met Blaine's eyes for a second before he returned to eating.

"You're still having those?" Blaine hated how scarred the boy was underneath the perfection.

"Maybe." This time Kurt didn't meet his eyes.

"Having what?" Charlie leaned into Kurt's personal space.

"Nothing," Kurt said quickly, and a look from Blaine encouraged Charlie to leave it alone.

"Don't you feel so left out of Klaine's relationship?" Wes asked.

"So left out of... did you seriously give us a couple name?" Dalton boys did that, especially for gay couples, but he and Kurt were not, _Klaine_ was not, a couple.

"Why, yes. Yes we did." It was Charlie's idea, Blaine was sure of it.

"Why?"

"Wes thought it would be a good idea, since you're practically a joint entity." Charlie gave Blaine what he called the I'm-so-not-innocent-at-all-but-maybe-if-I-open-my-heavily-mascaraed-eyes-wide-enough-you'll-believe-me look.

"Sure. And who came up with Klaine?"

"That I totally claim. Ew, that rhymes." Charlie made a 'blech' sound. "So, what do you all start this lovely morning with?"

"English for Wes and I," Kurt said gloomily.

"Blainey and I have Chemistry, so I get to watch his lab partner borderline-sexually-assault him again," Charlie replied cheerily.

"Eric really isn't that bad," Blaine tried. When both Charlie and Kurt snorted, he gave up. "Fine, he's a creep."

"I have Trig," Thad pouted.

"Sucks to be you," Charlie said with a grin.

"At least Blaine, Kurt, and I have Mr. Bressler last," Thad shot back.

"You luck bitches! I have Mr. G."

Mr. G was the school joke, and he knew it, so he hated all the students. He was 25, stalked Ms. Daphne, had never had a girlfriend, and, worst of all, lived with his mom, who was Mrs. Girouard, the AP Calculus teacher.

"Good luck. He's probably the only teacher in the school who'll give homework over vacation. And he'll probably give you ridiculously difficult classwork, just because he knows every other teacher is treating this day like one, long study hall." Blaine luckily had Madame Moreau for French.

"Tell me about it," Charlie groaned.

* * *

><p>Ms. Swartz actually did have them doing classwork for the last English class they had before break. Small, informal speeches meant to make them more comfortable on stage. It was probably impossible for Kurt to be more comfortable on stage, so he wasn't particularly worried about his. He was interested to see how his classmates did though.<p>

Ms. Swartz had nicknamed them 'PB&J Speeches,' but Kurt mentally called them 'how-to speeches.' It was a simple, thirty seconds to one minute speech on how to do something simple, being as detailed as possible. Basically, all you had to do was write down the steps and then read them to the class.

The first few speeches were boring. Naturally, the people that volunteered to go first were the smartest of the class, and they took this (and all other) assignment seriously. The third or fourth person to speak was actually interesting though. He did, due to lack of imagination, how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Stephen was a decent guy, and he was pretty funny, but nothing in his speech showed this, until the steps began using the knife. Poor Ms. Swartz seemed to be seriously regretting assigning the speeches. Stephen talked quietly and quickly for most of the speech, but he slowed down enough on the 'funny' section of the speech to amuse the guys in the class.

"Once you open the peanut butter," he sped through that, "you must penetrate the knife into the peanut butter, and then slather it on one of the pieces of bread laid out on the paper plate." Really, guys, it's not that funny. The use of the word 'penetrate' had destroyed the classes composure, and even Kurt was resisting the urge to laugh, much to Glinda's disgust.

"Then you must unscrew the jelly jar. Penetrate the knife into the jelly, and smooth it onto the other piece of bread. Then you must screw the jelly jar lid back on." Kurt did laugh at that one, ignoring Glinda's rude comments. It was a day for laughter and being more relaxed than normal.

"Okay, thank you, Stephen. I would choose a more... appropriate word next time. Choose who goes next." Ms. Swartz was creating tension within the class unknowingly, as she made the students pick who followed them, whether said student wanted to go or not.

Everyone was surprised when Stephen said 'TJ.' TJ was by far the quietest kid in the class. Kurt had never even heard him speak, whenever they did presentations, he always seemed to be absent. For whatever reason, he had shown up today, and walked confidently up to the podium.

"Hi, my name's TJ, in case you didn't know that, and today I'll be telling you how to make toast." That's not how you start a good presentation, Glinda pouted. "First thing, you must grab some toast, oh wait, you haven't made it yet!" Everyone in the class started laughing, even Ms. Swartz. No one had expected the shy, withdrawn kid to seem comfortable speaking, and to be funny, nonetheless.

After the amusing beginning, which was mostly funny because it was so unexpected, the speech became pretty normal and robotic. But TJ apparently wasn't done being funny yet.

"You can add a selection of toppings, like..." TJ paused for long enough that Kurt wasn't sure he was actually going to say anything, but he finished with, "cinnamon-sugar!" And something about his excited expression or the childish enthusiasm in his voice was enough to make the class laugh again. Kurt was sure at this point that the only reason TJ's speech made the time requirements is because the class spent more time laughing than TJ did reading.

TJ called, unsurprisingly, on his best friend Andrew, who was also in Kurt's religion class. Andrew's speech was about brushing your teeth, and had probably been done that morning while he was performing said task. He was notorious for forgetting things.

"First... you must own a toothbrush!" You people are way too easily amused, Glinda commented, as Kurt and most of the other boys doubled over in laughter. Kurt had never seen the entirety of a class lose their formal aura. It was quite fun. Andrew's steps were once again pretty boring, until he reached the actual act of brushing your teeth.

"You must roughly stroke each tooth, forward, back, and sides, in order to do a thorough job." Andrew's finish couldn't be heard over the classes laughter.

"What is it with you guys today and using inappropriate words!" Ms. Swartz said, half-angry, half-amused.

"Ms. Swartz, that word perfectly fits my presentation," Andrew acted hurt.

"You know perfectly well what every boy in this room thought of." Ms. Swartz was actually quite bright and enjoyable, when she wasn't assigning ridiculous homework.

"You should use caress next time!" Someone exclaimed, and Ms. Swartz once again completely lost control of the class.

"I bet that word totally fits too!" Wes exclaimed, going to the dictionary.

"While Wes looks that up," Ms. Swartz tried hopelessly to regain control of the laughing and talking boys, "Nolan, how about you go?"

While Nolan walked up towards the front of the class, someone yelled "Happy Birthday!"

"Nolan, it's your birthday?" Wes asked, nose still in the dictionary.

"Happy Birthday, Nolan!" Andrew yelled, and the class broke out into a horrible off-key rendition of Happy Birthday.

"Guys, guys, come on! I know you're all excited for break, but just get through this one class." When the boys had quieted down, Nolan started doing his speech. Unfortuantely, he was one of the boring presentations, how to make a thousand piece puzzle, and the class quickly lost interest. The cheering, whooping, and hollering at the end was fun though. He only got such a reaction because it was his birthday.

Wes looked up from the dictionary. "The definition of caress is an act or gesture expressing affections, as an embrace or kiss, especially a light stroking or touching."

Andrew laughed. "Oh no, that one doesn't fit!"

The next one, which was done by Nick, was almost funny. He obviously had no idea of what to write, so he had written 'how to write a PB&J Speech.' The topic in itself was funny, but his speech kind of fell flat. Most of the speeches from then on were also pretty boring. The last one of the day was the funniest. Carlos did 'how to write your name.'

"First, you must have a name." Everybody, even Ms. Swartz, laughed, but Carlos didn't stop. "Next, you must remember your name. Then you must remember how to spell your name." Everything Carlos said was funny, and Ms. Swartz was practically in tears.

"Then you must get a pen, and write your name." Carlos hesitated on the word 'pen,' which was funny in it's own way. "Then you must proofread the spelling of your name," that was only really funny because Carlos was dyslexic, and it made Kurt feel horrible for laughing, but he was making fun of himself. "Lastly, you must make sure it's your name. That's how to write your name." Just then the bell rang, and everyone flowed out of the class, still laughing.

* * *

><p>"Hey!" Kurt said happily when he saw Blaine at break. As usual, he had one of those horrible, sodium-filled Gatorades in his hands, and his tie was a little messed up. With a slight frown, Kurt straightened it for him.<p>

"You're in a spectacularly good mood." Blaine had had Chemistry first period, and being pawed by his lab partner was one of his least favorite things to do.

"And you're not. Your lab partner still pawing you?" It used to make Kurt mad, Lucifer touching him, but the room kind of had a bright glow. It was just a good morning... as long as he didn't think about how Lucifer could be the reason Blaine's tie was messed up.

"As always. At least this is the last time I have to deal with him for a while." Blaine instinctively and absentmindedly ran his hand through his gelled curls.

"You messed up your hair," Kurt said with a smile. It really does look better that way.

"Bad habit," Blaine said with a smile.

"Hey, you two." Charlie looked. "Your lab partner needs to fuck off and die. I have never seen anyone creepier in my life."

"You're telling me.." Blaine went on a bit of a rant, and Charlie ignored him.

"You're doing it again," he murmured in Kurt's ear.

"Doing what?" he whispered back.

"Look, I get it, you don't want Blaine to find out you like him. I respect that, and as much as I tease you both, I'm not actually going to blow your secret. So I'm just warning you, you're being really touchy right now. Not like creepy-Eric touching, but enough." Charlie hadn't noticed that Blaine had stopped talking.

"What are you two whispering about?"

"Look at the bags around Wes' eyes, what do you bet he and Allison broke up?" Charlie successfully diverted Blaine.

"Well, at least they lasted longer than two weeks. That's how long Wes' relationships usually last," Blaine explained to Kurt.

"How long did he and Allison last?"

"Three months or so." Kurt realized Charlie had even managed to distract him.

"I'm going to go talk to Wes." Blaine headed off towards the tired and miserable looking boy.

"Thank you," Kurt said once Blaine was out of hearing range.

"No problem. Oh, and Wes and Ali didn't break up, David was just working all night, and Wes can't sleep if there's any light in the room. At all. It's really quite weird." Charlie laughed at his friend.

"Good to know, I guess," Kurt said with a smile. "Any weird quirks like that I should know about before Blaine stays at my house for Christmas?"

"Not that I know of. Is that really a good idea?" Charlie asked hesitantly.

"I can control myself, thank you. Blaine is first and foremost my best friend." Yeah, we'll see how that goes.

"Whatever you say," Charlie said with a smile. "Have fun with eighty minutes of Calculus."

"Joy."

* * *

><p>"So kiddies, how's your day been?"<p>

Blaine's statement that morning been extremely accurate. No teacher, with the exception of Mrs. Girouard, had given him homework, and they hadn't taken any notes or done any classwork.

"Now, I may not have a soul, but I'm not entirely evil. So today, we're just going to have a little chat," Mr. Bressler grinned evilly.

"This could end badly," Blaine murmured to Kurt.

"Our topic: stupid things. First thing, and this is a personal hatred of mine, but those ridiculous European man-capris. Their formal name is so French, I can't even pronounce it. Guys that wear those are so ridiculously outlandish and irritating. It's not homophobia," he said with a nod to Blaine, Kurt, and, much to the boy's embarrassment, Jeff," they're just so irritating I want to throttle them." We would never wear capris, Glinda agreed.

"I know," added Drew in an exasperated voice, "I went on a Caribbean cruise and there were so many Europeans. Those and the damn Canadians, 'aye'?"

"You say that word one more time I'll throat chop you."

"'Kay." Kurt was shocked by Drew's lack of reaction. "When we were in the Bahamas, there was this huge, like 6'7" sky-scraper guy. My little sister, the idiot, goes up to him and asks how tall he is. Sky-scraper goes 'do I know you?' Well, she obviously didn't. So the guy starts yelling at her, and she's like seven-"

"Well, it's better than being punched in the face. Like 'wham!'" Mr. Bressler made the motion of punching Jeff and pulled away so close Kurt actually thought he was going to hit him. The rest of the class seemed unfazed.

"What was it like being in the military?" Despite the fact that Mr. Bressler mocked him the most out of all the class, Jeff always asked the most questions.

"Have you ever handcuffed anyone?" Drew added.

"Well, that's kinky," Mr. Bressler said with a small roll of his eyes. Kurt just gaped. Are teachers ever allowed to say that?

"Yeah, that's out of line, even for Mr. Bressler. Doesn't mean he won't say it though," Blaine said to him at a normal volume, not worried about being heard over the classes laughter. Kurt just shook his head. Sometimes I swear that boy can read minds. Yours in particular.

"Why am I always in the front?" Jeff asked, probably annoyed to not be included in the circle.

"You see, if you're near the three of them," pointing to Andrew, Drew, and Thad, "they're miscreants." It was funny because they were the three worst troublemakers in the class. You're like a catalyst-"

"Don't catalysts slow things down?" Drew asked.

"No, they speed things up, smartie," Thad answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Moving on-" Mr. Bressler started.

"You didn't finish the analogy," Jeff grinned at the teacher.

"You know what? I would like to get a tattoo of your face on my stomach. Then whenever I got mad at you, I could just punch it. As I was saying-"

"Wouldn't that just hurt you?"

"You know what? Shut up!" Mr. Bressler screamed. "As I was saying, you're a catalyst to them. Without you, they're angels." Thad attempted to make a halo around his head with his hands, and was stopped by the marker flung in that exact spot. "Except him."

"Hey!" Thad yelled indignantly.

"Cupcake," Mr. Bressler grinned. "You look pissed," he said to Jackson, the quietest kid in the class.

"Ms. Swartz gave period 7 so much homework over break, all because Fred couldn't stop talking. She's such a bitch." Jackson shocked everyone in the room by swearing. Not that Mr. Bressler would care, but just because he always seemed so timid and innocent.

"Hey, she's pretty nice for an alien!" The whole class, Mr. Bressler and Jackson included, cracked up.

"What?" Kurt still wasn't caught up on all of the Dalton stories.

"Ms. Swartz," Jackson himself was surprisingly the one to explain, "has claimed multiple times that she was abducted by aliens. The school made her stop telling the story, and now she'll get really mad if you ask about it and say her story was warped, which it wasn't. It's not even worth repeating it's so ridiculous."

"What's that tattoo around her ankle about anyway?" Andrew asked. "She always says 'her past.'"

"Emily has had an interesting past," Mr. Bressler tried to explain the ominous answer away.

"Was she a deadhead?" Everyone laughed. The look Mr. Bressler gave Jeff was epic. "What? You said interesting past, that shit's crazy!"

"You'll think this is funny, Mr. Bressler," Thad spoke up from Kurt's other side. "I was walking into Walmart the other day, and I got first sprayed with mud, then tripped over one of those damn sensors," how does one trip over a very obvious sensor? "and then ran straight into one of those missing person's boards." Mr. Bressler always found stories of clumsiness amusing.

"You're an idiot you know that? But there's something to be said about those missing boards. They're so full, it makes you wonder if there really are vampires. Like Jeff," he grinned at his students. Clearly, this was an old joke Kurt had missed, because the class laughed.

"I'm not a vampire," Jeff groaned.

"Sure, you're not, Jeffy-cakes, you just sound like a squeak-toy." Mr. Bressler always said Jeff had a high-pitched, whiny voice, but he really didn't.

"My voice isn't squeaky!" Okay, maybe he is a little whiny.

"Sure, it isn't. You know, you'd be one of those lame Twilight vampires, that don't have the stomach to drink human blood and sparkle. I would be one of those vampires that tears your head off."

"How do you know so much about Twilight, Mr. Bressler?" Everyone laughed at Mr. Bressler's dumbstruck expression.

"Good one, Jeff," Blaine grinned at the boy. Kurt had learned early on that no one stumped Mr. Bressler, but Jeff just had.

"Just for that, everyone take notes on Chapter 18." That changed the classes attitude really quickly.

"Jeff!" Thad groaned. "Come on!" All the class had brought their books, despite the fact they never really used them. Mr. Bressler claimed that government changed to frequently to be taught out of a book.

Mr. Bressler spent the rest of the class sitting behind his desk, laughing at his hard-working students, and poking jibes at Jeff.

"Sometimes I really hate him," Blaine whispered, mostly joking, and Kurt couldn't help but agree.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to miss you!" Charlie cried dramatically, clinging to Blaine.<p>

"Let go, dumbass, I'm going to see you soon." Blaine hugged Charlie back, despite his words. Dalton's break started over a week before Christmas, so it would be a long time before Kurt would see anyone again.

"He's so clingy, isn't he?" Wes smirked at Blaine, who was still being smothered by Charlie. Giving Kurt a quick hug, and giving Blaine a nod, avoiding the risk that Charlie would pull him into the endless hug, Wes left the Stevenson living room. Most of the boys had left already, and Blaine and Kurt would leave as soon as Charlie let Blaine go.

"Charlie, it's eighteen days. Let me go." Charlie finally did, after about five minutes of clinging to his best friend. He then grabbed Kurt in a, thankfully quick, hug before running back upstairs for no reason Kurt could think of.

"Well, he's... clingy." Kurt said with a smile.

"There is no adjective to describe that boy besides 'Charlie.' Ready to go?"

"I've been ready for about fifteen minutes."

"Oh shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There. That _should_ (emphasis on the should) be the last time I mess with the st****ructure of a chapter. Trust me, it wasn't fun for me either.**

**Reviews are Love, as always.**


	10. Never Have I Ever

**A/N: May I first give so much thanks and hearts and love to YourEyesLikeStars, who was my amazing inspiration/motivation for this chapter. She's amazingly talented, and she just wrote an awesome new Glee fic 'if Glee was written by fans' that's Warbler-centric and I suggest you all go check out. This chapter is just the first of eleven days of Kurt and Blaine's Christmas (no, it won't be eleven chapters), but please tell me if I'm drawing this out too much for your liking. Without further ado, read on.**

* * *

><p><em>Feels so good being bad<br>There's no way I'm turning back  
>Now the pain is my pleasure<br>Cause nothing could measure_

_Love is great, love is fine  
>Out the box, out of line<br>The affliction of the feeling  
>Leaves me wanting more<em>

_Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it  
>Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it<br>Sticks and stones may break my bones  
>But chains and whips excite me<em>

The rough beat of Rihanna practically shook the car thanks to his baby's amazing stereo system. The two boys occupying the car weren't talking, but it was a comfortable atmosphere anyway. Kurt (obviously) was driving, and Blaine was relaxed against the window of the car. He'd been smacked twice for putting his feet up.

"Do your friends know that you're coming home today?" Blaine asked.

"No, their vacation doesn't start until Friday." Dalton's vacation started two days earlier. "When are your parents coming home from Hawaii?"

"Jeez, eager to get rid of me already! It's only been half an hour," Blaine teased.

"No! I was just wondering, because sometime during this vacation we have to start moving to the new house." Kurt didn't even like saying it.

"They get home the Sunday after Christmas, so I'll head home that morning." That gave him ten days with Blaine, and eight days to move.

"You know we're happy to have you, right?" Blaine had been teasing about getting rid of him, but Kurt wanted to make sure.

"Yes, I know, and I'm thankful for it," he smiled at the countertenor. "How far away is your new house?"

"About ten minutes closer to Dalton. Not enough to make a dent in my commute, but it's in a nice part of town, and it won't inconvenience Finn. Plus, it's closer to Carole's work."

"Where does Carole work again?" Kurt had told him at some point, but he had forgotten.

"At the hospital. It's closer to the garage too."

"Am I the only one really amused by the fact that you own a garage named Hummel Tires & _Lube?_" Blaine grinned.

"I think you've been hanging out with Charlie too much, it's beginning to have a negative effect on you," Kurt said without a pause.

"I'm kidding."

"Sure."

"I love this song," Blaine smiled.

_You're not alone  
>Together we stand<br>I'll be by your side  
>You know I'll take your hand<em>

_When it gets cold  
>and it feels like the end<br>There's no place to go  
>You know I won't give in<br>No, I won't give in_

"We... New Directions sang this song, for Quinn." Blaine hadn't missed the slip of the tongue.

"You really miss them, don't you?" Kurt sighed.

"Yes. As much as we argued, and fell apart at every moment, we always came together to support each other. We were a family. We sang this song for Quinn when Jacob Ben Israel, the weasel, leaked the story of her pregnancy on his dumb blog, because we felt for her," Kurt sighed again and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm being silly," he faked a smile.

"No, you're not. It's different, when you're a small group and all you have to depend on is each other. The Warblers... they're so formal, sometimes it doesn't feel like a club. New Directions, they have to trust each other, because without each and every one of them, the program would be cut. We have ridiculously large alumni donations, plus a base fund. We lost at Sectionals two years in a row, and we're still considered rock stars. It's a totally different situation." Blaine smiled in support.

"Thanks. Though I must admit, the Warblers seem more like a family outside of rehearsals. You just take things a little bit too seriously." Kurt had heard the prank stories and seen the camaraderie. Now, they just needed to show that side of themselves on stage.

"I know. I feel like if we were more relaxed, and had the same kind of energy on stage that we do in the dorms, we would be a lot better." Blaine rolled his eyes. "Not that Wes, David, or Thad would ever agree. Sometimes, I honestly wish we had a director."

"No you don't. A director is kind of the same as a council. They still think they know best no matter what. At least with a council, it's three voices instead of one, and if you argue with the council they can't have you expelled," Kurt joked.

"True. They'll just kick you out," Blaine pointed out.

"Details," Kurt said, mock-dismissively. Blaine laughed.

"I'm a little scared to meet your friends, to be honest. They seem like a hard-core and protective bunch." The look Rachel had given him when he called Kurt for places seemed very mistrusting.

"Rachel's only careful because she's been burned before. Jesse St. James pretended to be in love with her, in order to break her heart and give Vocal Adrenaline the edge. We warned her against it, even threatened to kick her out of the club, but she still dated him. She just doesn't want something like that to happen to me," Kurt explained with a shrug.

"People like that should... be seriously injured," Blaine tried and failed to make Kurt laugh.

"Santana threatened multiple times to cut his balls off and keep them in a jar on her mantle," Kurt said with a laugh.

"And this conversation has been _so_ reassuring." Kurt just laughed.

"Rachel's just wary. Quinn, Tina, & Brittany are sweethearts, and will just tell me to be careful, but wouldn't hurt a fly. For girls, Santana, Mercedes, & Lauren are the ones you have to worry about, but Mercedes already likes you."

"What about Santana & Lauren?" Blaine said, slightly worried.

"Santana will threaten to cut your balls off, but she probably won't. Lauren won't threaten you, but she enacts horrible revenge, I assure you." Kurt was mostly having fun scaring Blaine.

"And for guys?" Blaine was a little pale.

"Finn's my brother now, so expect threatening. Sam will probably threaten you too, but only because he's a good guy, and he's rather protective. Puck will probably say offensive, anti-gay things, as usual. Mike won't say anything. Artie cares, but he's more cool-headed, and he gets to know people before he makes judgements."

"And this is just being your friend from a rival school. I'd hate to imagine what it would be like to date you." Blaine only had to pause for a moment before what he said sunk in. "Uh... that came out wrong."

"I get what you mean," Kurt was clearly hurt and just unwilling to admit it, gripping the steering wheel tightly and clenching his jaw. "They're only so careful, because they think I'm fragile."

"I really didn't mean that. Any guy you dated would be really lucky to have you." Kurt smiled and relaxed, and Blaine could feel that he was forgiven by the tension change. "You just have an extremely good support system."

"You're just lucky my dad likes you. He doesn't usually like me hanging out with guys."

"I consider myself lucky. And I know you don't like to admit it, but you are kind of fragile," Blaine said hesitantly.

"I am not fragile."

"Kurt... after all you've been through, there isn't a person in the world who wouldn't be."

"I am capable of repressing and dealing with my emotions at proper times. I just was under the impression that you wouldn't think me weak for actually being myself."

"A very correct impression. I don't think you're weak. I think you're incredibly strong, but even the strongest of things have cracks in them." 

"And what would be these imaginary cracks?" Kurt said snidely.

"You flinch every time someone say's Karofsky's name." Kurt didn't flinch that time, but Blaine could see that it was by sheer force of will. "Your mother died when you were six." Kurt did flinch at that. "You're insecure. You've never had a boyfriend, or a proper first kiss. Your-"

"Okay! I get it. Can you stop now?" Kurt cut him off.

"I'm sorry, but see my point?" The things Blaine had listed had obviously hurt Kurt.

"Yes, I do. Maybe they're right."

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't say anything else for a while after their conversation about weak points, and Blaine didn't push, as difficult as it was. They were about half an hour away from Lima when Blaine snapped.<p>

"Are you mad at me?" Blaine ignored how much he sounded like a whiny girlfriend.

"No," was (frustratingly) all Kurt said.

"It seems like you are." A whiny, twelve-year-old girlfriend.

"Well, I'm not." Well, he was a little, but he wasn't going to admit it.

"Please stop being mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you. I'm just thinking." Well, he was thinking about how mad he was at Blaine. It was half-true.

"About?"

"Priorities. Do you think I should board?" Kurt ignored how obvious the subject-change was.

"Do you want to board?" Blaine was the first person to ask him that.

"I don't know. Logically, it's the easier thing to do. It just feels a little bit too much like leaving my new family, and how much am I going to get to talk to my friends if I'm constantly surrounded my screaming monkeys?" Kurt said, completely straight-faced.

"Don't you mean students?" Blaine asked with a laugh.

"No, I mean monkeys. Have you seen the boys in your dorm?"

"Touche." Just as Blaine was about to say more, Kurt's phone rang. _El está por mi, y por ti borró, y eso que tú tienes to', y yo ni un Kikí. Ella se hace la bruta pa' cotizar. Cinco minutitos de-_ "Kurt's phone. Hey, Rachel." Blaine ignored the glare he was getting from the soprano.

"Why are you answering my phone?" Blaine ignored him.

"He's driving. It would be irresponsible of me to give him the phone," he answered to Rachel.

"Well, I just felt it's fair to warn him that all of New Directions is currently waiting to scare him in his living room. We all skipped. Why are you driving with him?" Apparently, Kurt hadn't told the New Directions that he was coming to the Hudmel house as well.

"I'm staying with him for Christmas because my parents are in Honolulu, and my house is currently full of the horrendous smell of pot." Lila didn't actually smoke it, but all her friends did.

"Oh... okay, then." She hung up.

"Rachel says that all of New Directions skipped school and is waiting to scare you in your living room," Blaine relayed.

"What do you bet that was Puck's idea?" Kurt rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>Kurt felt awkward bringing Blaine to his house for a multitude of reasons. For one, his extremely over protective father and friends. For another, he wasn't, well... rich. He had heard the stories of extremely expensive vacations (entire summers spent in Europe), and for most kids at Dalton, the tuition was nothing at all, not even important. Kurt had gotten a scholarship for both his grades and his voice, and the tuition was <em>still<em> a lot of money. His house wasn't small, and it was nice, but it wasn't the mansion he knew Blaine lived in.

"Did they think I wouldn't notice all the cars parked down the street?" Nobody had parked in front of Kurt's house, but eleven unusual cars lining the street leading to his house was a dead giveaway.

"I think it was more of a vain hope," Blaine laughed as Kurt stopped the car.

"Home sweet home," Kurt said with a smile. As odd as it might sound, Kurt was happy to be back in Lima, he felt more comfortable.

"Let's go deal with the maniacs you call your friends."

The moment Kurt walked through the door, the two small bags he had from staying at Dalton the night before in his hands, he was attacked by a swarm of girls.

"Kurt!" Brittany cried happily.

"We missed you, white boy," Mercedes said, grabbing first hug and squeezing the life out of the soprano.

"'Cedes, need... air... to... live," Kurt gasped out, and Mercedes finally let him go. Brittany grabbed him in a hug next, and the soprano ended up sandwiched between her and the other blonde.

"How come the gay guys always get the hot chicks?" One of the guys complained from the living room as Mercedes gave Blaine a quick hug.

"Because the best ones are always either gay or taken," Lauren answered.

"Hey! Not nice," Finn complained as he walked over from where he was getting food towards the mass of girls. "Hey dude, Kurt."

"Why hello, Finn Hudson," Kurt said with a smile, shimmying out of the arms of the girls to give his brother a quick hug.

"That... brings up weird memories," Finn said, returning the hug. Kurt just laughed.

"Hey, Finn," Blaine greeted the giant, bumping the fist he was offered.

"What's Hummel's lover doing here?" Blaine could finally place the voice as Puck when the mohawked boy strolled into the room like he owned it.

"Blaine is _not_ my lover, Puckerman," Kurt said sharply.

"I'm sure the tone you said that in totally boosted his ego," Puck said with a smirk. Blaine had to be a bit impressed, because who else had the right combination of bravery and stupidity that's required to anger Kurt Hummel? "Whatever, your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend either," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. Despite the sharp words between the two, Puck gave Kurt a quick bro-hug, which he returned.

"Hey Kurt," the boy who had been the lead in _(I've Had) The Time of My Life _walked into the kitchen and grabbed the soprano in a hug.

"Hello Sam." Finn gave Kurt a look that obviously made him angry.

"Don't you give me that look, Finnegan Jacob Hudson." Sam looked confused, and Finn looked chagrined. Kurt just rolled his eyes, releasing Sam.

"It's... Blaine, right?" Sam asked him, quickly grabbing Kurt's bags from him, ever the gentleman.

"Yeah. Hey, Sam."

"Dude, come in the living room. We're watching... that really lame, sparkly-vampire movie." Finn had pulled a face while trying to remember that was odd enough to make Kurt laugh.

"Don't call me dude," Kurt reminded his brother with a gesture towards his car. With a grumble, Finn went outside to grab Blaine's bags. "Look! Giants can be tamed!" Kurt exclaimed with a little smile, grabbing Blaine's hand and practically dragging him into the living room. The girls, Sam, and Puck followed like a trail of ducklings. Sam turned, taking Kurt's bags to his room.

"Everyone, this is-" Kurt introduced him as everyone settled back into their seats, letting go of his hand.

"Blaine," Santana cut him off.

"Blaine Anderson, gay tenor, lead singer of the Dalton Academy Warblers, and Kurt's new best friend," Rachel corrected a little creepily.

"You've talked about him enough," the female lead from _(I've Had) The Time of My Life_ added with a smile, obviously teasing the countertenor. Kurt blushed.

"Did I mention I hate you all?" he asked with a long-suffering sigh as he allowed himself to be dragged onto the couch between Mercedes and Rachel.

"Come sit," he invited, seeing Blaine standing in the door awkwardly. Blaine hesitantly sat next to Rachel, stepping over people, looking around the room.

_Eclipse_ was playing, but it was muted and nobody seemed to be paying attention to it. Santana and Brittany were curled up together in one arm chair, and they seemed to be a lot closer than friends. He, Mercedes, Rachel, and Kurt were the only other ones actually sitting on furniture. Artie was parked next to the opposite side of the couch. Puck was on the ground beside Artie leaning against his chair.

The blonde girl that had been teasing Kurt was leaning against Mercedes' legs, holding hands with Sam, who was leaning against Kurt's legs. Kurt didn't look entirely comfortable with that fact. Lying on the ground between the arm chair and the couch, Tina and Mike were cuddling. Kurt's replacement was leaning against the coffee table, facing no one.

"For the record, we'd be much less squished in my basement," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

"We might catch the gay," Puck snorted. "Get fairy dust poisoning or something." Blaine, who watching Kurt, noticed how he tensed. Rachel quickly put a hand on his arm. Puck was his friend why?

"Dude, be nice." Finn had obviously been just in time to hear the comment. The two weren't close anymore, but Finn could still control Puck.

"Knee-jerk reaction," Puck said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

"Watch it, Puckerman. Fairy over there has more balls than you can ever hope to. _Especially_ if you keep messing with my boy." Kurt's automatic protection for seemingly every girl on earth must be very useful with them.

"If he has any balls at all," Puck said with a laugh, but he was obviously joking this time.

"_So_ not funny, Puckerman." Kurt looked particularly annoyed, raising his eyes to the heavens.

"Jacob Ben Israel spread a rumor once that Kurt is a castrato," Rachel explained, seeing Blaine's confused look.

"A rumor which, I assure you, is _not true_." This seemed to be more for Puck's benefit than for Blaine's.

"We have proof," Santana said with a little smirk. Everyone in the room looked at her like she was a sociopath, except for Kurt, who just put his head in his hands. "Cheerios' showers," she explained with a roll of her eyes, her tone saying 'you should know this already.'

"Alright, losers, we can debate whether or not Kurt has balls, or we could play a game," Lauren sounded annoyed.

"How about 'threaten Blaine,' since we're all going to get around to it anyway?" Puck's joke felt flat.

"Spin the bottle?" Rachel suggested.

"I'm not kissing any of you," Mercedes and Lauren said at the same time.

"Truth or dare?" Quinn suggested. Everyone looked around for the others' reactions and shrugged.

"Can't be worse than with the Warblers," Kurt said fake-cheerily.

"I can't even imagine that, considering the stories I've heard..." Finn sounded horrified. Kurt just laughed.

"How about Never Have I Ever?" Santana's suggestion seemed to be the winner.

"Oh, yay, let's play a sex game," Mercedes said, sounding gloomy. Kurt just took her hand with a empathetic smile.

"We'll start with the innocent stuff, _won't we Santana?_" Blaine had never heard Kurt's voice sound even mildly threatening, but he sounded pretty damn threatening right then. Santana was obviously used to it.

"What, don't want us to know about all the dirty stuff you do with the Warblers whenever you stay over?" Santana replied with a smirk, but Blaine got the feeling Kurt had won this battle.

"Who starts?" Everyone laughed at Rachel. It was a McKinley rule that whoever asked that question first started.

"You, now that you've asked that. First, we need drinks." Rachel looked indignant, but Kurt cut off her protests.

"Whoot whoot!" Santana cheered, sliding out of the chair to rest against Brittany's legs.

"Non-alcoholic drinks." Santana frowned. "My house, my rules." Kurt was somehow using a past experience against Santana, Blaine could tell. He just didn't know the past experience. "Everyone just want water?" There was general nodding.

"I'll get it," Blaine and Sam said at the same time, both getting up.

"Well, we can tell who the gentlemen are," Quinn said with a small smile at her boyfriend and Blaine.

* * *

><p>The coffee table had been pushed out of the way, as had the still-on TV, and everyone was in a loose equivalent of a circle. Tina, Mike, Puck and Finn were occupying the space left by the coffee table and TV.<p>

Rachel sighed, and (with a slight glare at Kurt) began. "Never have I ever smoked weed." Puck, Santana, Brittany, Lauren, and Sam all drank.

Quinn glared accusingly at her boyfriend. Sam looked hurt. "It was once, and I didn't even know what it was." Quinn smiled at him, coerced by the innocent, dumb act.

Quinn went next. "Never have I ever kissed someone on the first date." Blaine debated for a few seconds, then drank, along with Santana, Brittany, Tina, Artie, Puck, and Rachel.

They were clearly going in some order Blaine didn't understand, as Mercedes went next. "Never have I ever been kissed." Everyone else in the room drank at that. Surprisingly, all eyes turned towards Kurt, who was staring at his water like it had done him a personal injustice.

"N-Not if you don't count Britt." Kurt was a truly atrocious liar.

"Sure. Come on, boy, spill," Mercedes nudged the countertenor, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

"I-I've n-never been kissed if you don't c-count Britt or d-dares." Apparently, Kurt turned into some sort of stuttering monster when he was attempting to lie.

"Wow, that's some of the worst lying I've ever seen. And that's saying something," Puck said with a snort.

"It's none of your business, guys!" Kurt snapped angrily.

"Relax, homo, we were just kidding. Nonz of our buiz." Santana had clearly seen the defensiveness for what it was.

"Never have I ever drank," Tina helped with a distraction. Blaine, Kurt, Sam, Quinn, Lauren, Finn, Puck, Brittany, and Santana all drank.

"You guys are losers," Puck scorned those who hadn't drank. "Come on, even Kurt I-have-a-two-by-four-up-my-ass-and-I-like-it Hummel has gotten drunk." Kurt blushed and glared at Puck for the nickname.

"It's called being responsible, Puckerman," Tina replied, blushing slightly.

"Never have I ever gotten a blow job." Santana dared Kurt with her eyes. Everyone seemed to ignore the fact that a girl getting a blowjob was a physical impossibility, so Blaine went along with it, drinking, as did Sam, Artie, and Puck.

"Dude!" Puck punched Finn in the arm. "Get some! You too, Hummel, you obviously need it." Kurt ignored him.

"Never have I ever... what have I never done, Sanny?" Blaine almost laughed, until he caught the protective glare from both Kurt and Santana. Santana leaned up to mutter something in the girl's ear.

"Never have I ever felt like killing someone." Kurt was the first to drink on that one, glaring at Puck as he did so, followed by Rachel, Quinn, Blaine, Mercedes... everyone else in the room.

"You're too nice a person, Britt," Kurt said, giving the blonde girl a soft smile.

"Never have I ever streaked," Finn said. Puck was the only one who drank.

"You got pretty damn close during Rocky Horror week," Sam said with an amused grin. Finn turned red.

"Shut up."

"Feeling like you're surrounded by crazy people yet, Blaine?" Mercedes asked, leaning around Kurt. Blaine nodded.

"Never have I ever..." Puck paused, obviously thinking. "Dudes, I'm a try-anything-once kind of guy. I don't think there's... Never have I ever kissed a dude." All the girls (with the exception of Mercedes) drank, as did Sam, Blaine, and (after a lot of hesitation) Kurt. Once again, everyone turned to look at him.

"D-dares," Kurt stuttered out, bright red. Why couldn't he stop stuttering? Why!

"I call _bullshit!_" Santana said with a smirk. "Spill."

"I think it's my turn," Kurt deflected quickly.

"Well, there's gotta be a lot on your 'never have I ever' list. For now, you should embarrass the virgins in the room." Kurt rolled his eyes but consented.

"Never have I ever had sex." Kurt turned perhaps a shade pinker, if that were possible. Blaine, Artie, Sam, Quinn, Finn, Puck, Brittany, and Santana drank.

"Wow. I'm surrounded by _losers_," Santana sneered, noticing the almost even ratio.

"Not everyone needs to have sex to feel good about themselves," Rachel shot back.

"No cat fights, ladies." Kurt seemed way too used to controlling Rachel.

"Never have I ever been on a plane." Blaine, awkwardly, was the only one who drank at Artie's turn.

"Lucky," Rachel sighed dramatically, twisting herself so she was practically draped over Blaine and Kurt's laps. "I want to go to New York City." It was obvious she was talking about Nationals. A wire of guilt twisted in Kurt's stomach. Blaine, seeing through him as always, placed a hand over his. The group, despite how much they were on the edge of killing each other, seemed surprisingly relaxed out of a formal setting. They were also quite touchy, so Blaine wasn't shy about scooting closer to Kurt, making Rachel readjust on their laps.

"Never have I ever cried myself to sleep." Everyone looked at Sam, because _jeez,_ personal. Mercedes drank, followed by Santana, Kurt, Blaine himself, Rachel, Artie, Quinn, and Tina. No one said anything.

"Never have I ever been kissed under mistletoe." Everybody laughed when only Blaine and Kurt drank. It reminded Kurt so much of the last week, everyone who had kissed him, and the one important person who hadn't.

"Dalton seniors are apparently extreme lovers of mistletoe. It's a little scary and a _lot_ gay. Warblers have competitions! It's ridiculous." Kurt rolled his eyes. How he managed to make the movement fond, Blaine didn't quite understand.

"Alright, gay boy, your turn." Blaine assumed she was talking to Kurt and vice versa. "Damn, there are two of them now, can't call them that. Garbler, your turn."

"Never have I ever..." Blaine paused, and what Kurt wouldn't have given to be inside his head at that moment.

"Can't think of anything you've never done?" Santana asked with a smirk.

"_No_... I'm just trying to think of a good one." Santana grinned and stood up, walking over to whisper in his ear.

"That's just _gross_." Blaine looked repulsed.

"Three people in this room would drink, my wonderful self included." Kurt snorted, but Santana ignored it, sliding back onto the ground by Brittany's feet.

"She said 'never have I ever attempted to duplicate two girls, one cup,'" Blaine murmured to his curious best friend.

"Well... I'm going to go throw up now." Kurt did look a little green, but he just rested his head on Mercedes' shoulder. "_So gross_. Sanny, you were lying, weren't you?"

"Well, I make no promises about Puckerman, but about me and Britts, yeah." Santana had obviously been trying to gross Blaine out._**  
><strong>_

"Now that I'll never be able to recover from the mental images Santana has given me, and I kind of want to_ scrub my brain with bleach_, I'll go with an easy one. Never have I ever changed a tire." Puck, Finn, Kurt, Lauren, Tina, and Sam all drank.

"Note to self, bring Blaine to the shop tomorrow. No self-respecting man doesn't know how to change a tire." Kurt looked almost offended, until Blaine realized he was kidding.

"Or takes it up the ass," Puck added, earning several glares. Blaine and Kurt just ignored the comment.

"Lauren, you have the last one." Kurt was incredible at letting comments slide and deflecting.

"Never have I ever ridden on a motorcycle." Puck, Finn, Santana, Brittany, and Kurt all drank. Once again, everyone's eyes were on Kurt, who said nothing.

* * *

><p>Everyone had left around dinner time. Burt had expressed over the phone his anger about having to go to Columbus for business and Carole had made the boys hamburgers because he wasn't home.<p>

"Kurt, sweetheart, we've really missed you around here." Kurt looked up from where he was absentmindedly picking at his food and smiled. "I was so glad I didn't have to work the night shift today, so that I could spend some time with my boys," Carole smiled at all three of them, and Blaine suddenly felt like a member of the family. "Kurt, honey, you have to eat more than that."

"I will. Promise," he added at her disbelieving look.

"So, Blaine, how's living at Dalton?" Carole was obviously asking about having Kurt board.

"It's actually really fun. Despite the borderline-heinous pranks that happen in dorms," Finn shuddered, "we actually get along really well, and we're really close. it also gives us the opportunity to ask each other and the teachers questions about homework. For example, Charlie is amazing at history between the hours of one A.M. and four A.M. Don't ask me why. I'm pretty sure every single one of the Warblers has their own little unique quirk." Carole smiled and Blaine mentally cheered. He _really_ wanted Kurt to board.

"And what would be yours?"

"Uh... I'm sure the other guys would have millions for you, but I, personally, can't think of any."

"How do you like the school so far Kurt?" Carole was very much the smiling and compassionate mother who was interested in everything her kids did.

"It's nice. Of course, I have to deal with twenty-five crazy boys everyday, but they're worth it. Most of my classes are good, not too easy but not too difficult, and I've made a lot of friends." Just as Kurt said that, his phone beeped. "Speak of the devils," he teased with a light smile.

From: Charlie_  
>'Congrats. Uve managed 2 go 4 hours wo jumping B, Im soooo proud of u. And btw, jumping B is tots wrth it ;)_

Kurt blushed bright red at the message. "Charlie," he murmured as explanation.

To: Charlie_  
>'I hate: A) you, and B) the fact that you know that...<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Rlax, H. B isnt exact 1 to just hook-up (M and I non withstanding). U and him will make a great couple.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'I love how you use numbers, but spell out 'non withstanding.' I also love how you say 'he's not one to hook up' and then name his only two... intimate encounters.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>''Intimate.' legit? U cant say 'sexual' and hve it don with? Virg.'<em>

"Kurt Hummel, you are not going to ignore your family for the rest of the night in favor of that damn phone of yours," Carole teased lightly, but obviously meant what she said.

"Sorry, Carole." Kurt smiled brightly at his step-mom. "Charlie's just being stupid and irritating anyway."

To: Charlie_  
>'I'm in the middle of eating dinner. I'll text you later?'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'U btter. And try not 2 jump B in his slep (kinky). XOX'<em>

"Sometimes I truly wonder why we tolerate that boy," he said with a smile at his best friend.

"Because we all secretly love him, no matter how much we actually hate him," Blaine answered, half-joking.

"Uh, what?" Finn looked so confused.

"Nothing," the two answered in sync, and then blushed.

"Kurt, did your father give any indication of where Blaine would be sleeping?" Carole was obviously trying to be polite, not flat-out asking if Blaine was allowed to sleep in Kurt's room.

"No. I'll text him, I'm sure he's not really listening to his lawyer anyway." Kurt had been at some of the meetings Burt had with the lawyer for the garage, especially when he was younger, and his dad was always staring at the window, only answering questions and letting most of the 'lawyer-talk' in one ear and out the other.

To: Dad_  
>'Where is Blaine sleeping?'<em>

From: Dad_  
>'Cn I trst hm to slep in ur rom?'<em>

To: Dad_  
>'Daaad! Blaine and I aren't even dating and we share a room whenever I stay at Dalton!'<em>

From: Dad_  
>'He cn slep in ur rom on a blw-up thn Finn has 2 be thur 2'<em>

To: Dad_  
>'Of course, Dad.'<em>

"Dad, who isn't listening to his lawyer, as usual, says he can sleep in our room." Sharing a room with Finn had been much more successful on the second attempt, especially because Kurt was spending so much time at Dalton. Finn was also becoming more comfortable around Kurt, despite their... unfortunate history.

* * *

><p>Kurt was humming softly to himself as he did moisturizing routine. He had gone into the basement early, in order to finish before Blaine went to bed. Why, one may ask? Well, Blaine was very much the gentleman, and would try and take the blow-up bed. Kurt wasn't going to have it. He was <em>not<em> a girl, and Blaine was a guest. Therefore, he would take Kurt's bed. It was probably childish to argue with Blaine about something this irrelevant, especially since the air mattress was _extremely_ comfortable, but Kurt wasn't going to let it go.

"Hey," Blaine called to the boy sitting at his vanity, almost falling down the last step. "Whoa!"

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you that the last step is a small bit steeper than the rest. My dad claims it is a anti-burglary method, I just think the builders made a mistake, which wasn't important enough to worry about._"_

"It's okay. I won't fall and die, I promise." Blaine, outside of Dalton and uniform, could be very silly and adorable. "Wow, you're room is _huge_." Blaine looked around, noticing the two beds (it had been upgraded) as well as the air mattress, the walk-in closet, the adjoining bathroom, the TV, the couch, and the large amount of space still left over.

"Well, it was designed specially for me, as a birthday present. Paid in full by my mom's mom, who is still trying to tempt me to live with her in Wyoming. She's not a big fan of my dad," Kurt made a face at Blaine in the mirror. "She's absolutely crazy, but extremely rich, and she spoils me."

"I see that. I'll just..." Blaine made a little motion towards the bathroom and started walking backwards toward it.

"You're going to trip over..." Kurt warned, but not soon enough. Blaine walked into the trash can, sending both it and himself to the floor. Kurt couldn't help but laugh. "You're not very smooth, I hate to break it to you."

"Evil trash can!" Blaine declared before running into the bathroom. Laughing at the silly antics of his best friend, Kurt hummed _Something There_ to himself as he finished the last of his moisturizing routine. Perfect timing.

Already in his pajamas, Kurt slipped under the covers of the already-made blow-up bed. Cuddling in, Kurt waited until he heard Blaine coming out of the bathroom before faking sleep. Due to the fact that his dad set age-inappropriate 'bed times' for him, he was incredibly good at the practice.

"Are we really going to argue about this? I know you're not asleep." Of course Blaine saw right through him. "You can have your own bed, Kurt, I don't care." Kurt said nothing. "I will dump cold water on you. See if you can 'sleep' through that." Kurt could hear the air quotes in his voice.

"You're the guest, and I'm comfortable. Go to bed." Finn had already passed out in the other bed, about halfway through Kurt's moisturizing routine.

"Fine," Blaine kicked his foot, almost losing his balance. "You win... for tonight."

Blaine turned of the lights before walking over to Kurt's bed, which was a very hazardous journey. Curling up in Kurt's sheets, Blaine rested his head against the countertenor's pillow. Despite the fact that the sheets were clean, the whole area smelled of Kurt, a mixture of sandalwood, every organic product under the sun, and a scent that was pure _Kurt_, unique as the boy himself. He realized he was going to wake up smelling like Kurt, which was probably dangerous, but a dream come true.

"Blaine?" The tenor heard Kurt's light whisper across the room.

"Yeah?" he whispered back just as quietly.

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt sounded... nervous, for some reason.

"Of course." 

"Do... do you regret being with Marcus?" 

"Where did that come from?" Blaine wasn't avoiding the question, though it wasn't a subject he particularly wanted to talk about with Kurt, he was just curious.

"During Never Have I Ever, you drank for 'kissed on the first date' and it just got me thinking..." Kurt let his sentence fade.

"I debated about drinking for that, because Marcus was never really my boyfriend, it wasn't really a relationship."

"You didn't answer my question," Kurt sounded a bit like a child._**  
><strong>_

"Sometimes," was the best answer Kurt could give. "If Marcus and I hadn't... Charlie and I probably never would have happened, and I honestly don't know what my life would be like without that boy. Plus, I was really the one who bonded him with the Warblers."

"Blaine, you're deflecting," Kurt stated.

"I'm not trying to, I'm just looking at it from different perspectives. Marcus... he was a great friend, but he wasn't..." Kurt felt slightly absurd for wishing the next word out of Blaine's mouth would be 'good,' "I didn't love him. He meant a lot to me, and I miss him sometimes, but I never loved him. That, I regret, I guess. He was special to me, and my... first time _was_ special. Isn't that what everyone wants? But it wasn't with someone I loved. If I could take it back... I don't know what I would do, honestly." Blaine tried to be as honest as possible with the countertenor.

"Oh," was all Kurt said.

"Now I get to ask _you_ a question." Blaine had been wondering about this for a while.

"O-okay."_**  
><strong>_

"Why did... why do you keep what happened between you and Karofsky a secret, even from your friends?"

"My friends are the most amazing, loyal, honest, insane group of people you will ever meet. But they're also extremely protective. Mercedes, Rachel, Quinn, all of them would give _anything_ to have me back at McKinley. I love them, but I don't trust them not to out Karofsky for 'my sake,'" Blaine heard a ruffle and assumed Kurt made air quotes. "They wouldn't truly understand the implications of outing someone, especially someone repressed and uncertain. I... I should hate him, and sometimes I do, but I'm honestly scared of what he might do if someone were to find out." Kurt's statement was finished by the phrase 'he'd probably come after me or kill himself.'

"You're too nice a person, you know that?" Kurt was utterly selfless to the point it gave Blaine a headache.

"Sometimes." Blaine saw a quick flash of light from Kurt's bed.

To: Charlie_  
>'I promise not to jump Blaine in his sleep.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Um... what? - David'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'I was continuing our earlier conversation... Why do you have Charlie's phone?'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Srys, D wntd 2 talk 2 u. Good 4 u, btw. Wheres he sleping?'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'My room. My bed, actually. I'm on an air mattress.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'How corteus of u. How in wrld did u win tht battle?'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'Grammar and vowels are your friends, Charlie. Also, early bird gets the worm.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Your a lusr. How'd meting the BFFs go?'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'Nobody threatened him yet. He's alive, in one piece, and not about to shit himself from fear. An all and all good day.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Since u mentioned it b4, wht happened w me and B was a mistake. I luv B, but nt like tht, and I nev shouldve taken advantage of him (nt tht it was dub-con or anything). So I'll never cum between the 2 of u.'_

To: Charlie_  
>'We've talked about these things :) And you say that like there's anything between the two of us to interrupt.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Your just a litle slow on the up-take. Trst me, itll happen. Ill make it.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'Oh boy!'<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had a real issue with this one (getting the flow right). Please let me know if I did well. Once again, I urge you all to go read 'if Glee was written by the fans.'  
><strong>

**Songs used:  
><strong>_'S&M'_ by Rihanna  
><em>'Keep Holding On'<em> by Avril Lavigne_  
><em>

**Reviews are Love.**


	11. Hudmel House Madness

**A/N: So, in reviews for last chapter, a lot of people didn't like the Elphaba/Glinda thing. I really overdid it in the last chapter (I apologize). So, I mostly got rid of them in this chapter... I'm pretty sure Elphaba is completely gone. I was really hesitant about Blaine having a mental voice, and I guess it didn't work. Oh well. There's still some Glinda in there, I think. 'I found the set up of the first few chapters a lot easier to read then the later ones' - bohemelavie. I think I agree with you. I'm really trying to work on that. So... here we go. I hope this is better. Read on. Oh and **_**Repo! The Genetic Opera**_** spoilers. Do I have to warn for horrible over-use of Harry Potter quotes?**

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Sunshine!" Kurt called cheerily from the kitchen as he saw Blaine walking up the stairs.<p>

"It is not a good morning. There is no such thing as a good morning," Blaine replied grumpily, sitting on one of the stools set in front of the bar with Carole.

"Would coffee and pancakes make it a better morning?" Blaine couldn't ruin his good mood.

Blaine's eyes lit up. "Pancakes!" Soft music, possibly Celine, was floating from the kitchen stereo.

"'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach,'" Carole quoted.

"Definitely true," Blaine said with a smile at Kurt's step-mother. "How long have you two been up?"

"Since five." Kurt had obviously had a lot of coffee. "We're going to start Christmas decorating today!"

"For an atheist, you get way too excited about Christmas. Unless it's just about the decorating," Blaine teased his best friend, who mock-glared at him.

"Mostly the decorating, the cookies, and the presents," Kurt said with a carefree laugh. Despite everything, Kurt seemed much more relaxed in Lima.

"Isn't Christmas over a week away?" All Blaine got for an answer was some flour thrown at his head.

"Christmas is a process. There's so much to do!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly, continuing to make the pancakes. Knowing him, he was probably making mental lists of all the things he needed to do for Christmas.

"I feel slightly scared for my life, to be honest."

"Oh, you should be," Kurt said with an almost predatory grin.

"Oh boy. Anyway, I thought you were working at the shop today?" Kurt dropped the spatula to smack himself on the forehead. He had forgotten.

"I don't have to be there until noon." Kurt looked at the clock. 10:47. Great. "My father and Uncle Andy are under the impression that teenagers can't function until after noon, despite the fact I wake up every morning before either of them."

"For the record, you're not exactly the typical teenager," Blaine pointed out with a grin.

"Can you save me about half an hour of my life and go wake up Finn? The pancakes will be ready when you're done," Kurt asked, flipping another pancake onto an almost full plate.

"Sure," Blaine agreed with a sigh.

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, Finn," Blaine said loudly, shaking the other boy roughly. Finn just grumbled and rolled over... again. Blaine wished there were curtains he could just throw open. "Wake up!" Blaine yelled, frustrated.<p>

"Mm.. whur's Kurty?" At least Finn was awake.

"Kurt is upstairs making pancakes, which you can have if you get out of bed," Blaine answered. Finn, he had to admit, was rather cute when he was sleepy.

"Good, cuz we need to have a talk." Finn was still sleepy, but he sounded serious.

"About?" Blaine asked, slightly worried.

"You like my brother," Finn stated simply. Oh shit.

"W-what would m-make you think that?" The stammering probably didn't help.

"Dude, I know I'm not the brightest bulb in the shed... or something like that, but I'm not dumb. You're kinda obvious about it." If Finn knew, how did Kurt not know?

"So... what is there to talk about?" Blaine had expected threatening when he came here (Kurt had given him fair warning), but Finn didn't seem angry or anything.

"Kurt's been hurt before. You know that as well as I do... probably better than I do. And as dumb as Kurt can be about people, he's not blind. He will figure this out, and you two will end up dating. Just... don't hurt him, alright dude?" Finn blinked kind of sleepily. "Because I will kill you. I don't want to, but I will." Blaine almost laughed, but considering Finn could probably snap him in half with a _pinky_, laughing at him wasn't the best idea.

"Finn, you have to know by now that I'd do anything to protect Kurt, to help Kurt. I would never, ever hurt him," Blaine said very honestly. There is nothing he wouldn't do for the pale counter tenor.

"Cool." Finn paused a moment before asking "you said something about pancakes?"

* * *

><p>Carole left the kitchen just as Blaine dragged a half-dead Finn up the stairs. While Kurt was an absolute raving bitch without coffee, there was nothing one could do to fully wake up Finn in the morning. Kurt just had to let the sleepiness wear off.<p>

"So, what do you do in the garage, exactly?" Blaine asked as he parked Finn in one of the kitchen chairs. Finn immediately slumped over it, almost falling to the floor. Blaine ignored him.

"I fix cars. What else do you do in a garage?" Kurt was almost annoyed with his best friend. Was it not possible for him to break the gay stereotype, even a little?

"Things," Blaine answered non-specifically. "How should I know?" Blaine attempted to defend himself at his friend's glare.

"As impossible as it may seem," Kurt began, sliding Blaine a plate of pancakes and ignoring Finn's whining, "I am actually very adept at fixing cars. I've been working in the garage since I was seven." Well, not exactly working, more like carrying around tools and trying not to get in his dad's way too much, but it sounded much more impressive if he said 'working.'

"Why do I get the feeling you're embellishing a little?" Blaine said with a knowing smile.

"You know me so well," Kurt grumbled, bringing Finn his pancakes, knowing they would be cold by the time Finn got around to eating them.

"_Well, it's not hard to tell_," Blaine half-sang with a smile. Somehow, the boy always managed to be a geek, no matter what happened. Kurt just sighed, faking disappointment, and started to clean up the kitchen.

"You are such a nerd, you know that?"

"Books and cleverness," Blaine quoted cheekily. Not for the first time, Kurt resisted the urge to smack him.

"Remind me why I spend time with you again." Kurt, in hindsight, should not have said anything. Any word he spoke was only another opportunity for Blaine to quote Harry Potter.

"Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them." Really, Blaine needed to get a life.

"You, my friend, spend way too much time with your book collection. Try spending more time with Charlie, he's surprisingly intelligent." Blaine snorted. Well, Kurt had only talked to Charlie a few times.

"Oh yes, I know. He is the only reason I have not yet failed math. However, Harry Potter is there for when he is... otherwise occupied." Kurt knew what he meant, and Finn probably didn't understand much of their conversation anyway. For all that Kurt criticized his Harry Potter references, he always picked up on them.

"Charlie spends far too much time 'otherwise occupied,'" Kurt said (with air quotes and all), rolling his eyes. For all the time Kurt had spent making the pancakes, he hadn't left any for himself.

"You don't like pancakes?" Kurt had to roll his eyes again. Honestly, Blaine made it sound like a crime.

"Do you have any idea how many calories are in pancakes?" The question was rhetorical, Blaine had the ridiculous metabolism of most teenage boys (though, as the Warblers enjoyed frequently pointing out, he was not growing). "I already ate. Amazingly enough, the world does function while you're asleep."

"Time is making fools of us again." Honestly, how much of a nerd could one boy be in the space of fifteen minutes.

"I am going to go shower. I have reached my limit for Harry Potter quotes in one morning. You, stop being a dork and eat your pancakes."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Junior!" Uncle Andy yelled out as soon as they got to the garage. Despite Kurt's worries, they were early.<p>

"How many times have I asked you _not _to call me 'Junior'?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow. His tone was sharp, but friendly. He was teasing.

"Well, that was rude." The first thing Blaine noticed about Kurt's 'Uncle' Andy was that he pouted like a child.

"Yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Kurt said with a fake sigh. Blaine cracked up, unable to help himself. So much for Kurt reaching his Harry Potter limit.

"Sadly, your rudeness was far from accidental, kiddo. Don't you have work to be doing?" Andy walked off without acknowledging Blaine's existence.

"Being around you rubs off," Kurt said. Blaine couldn't tell if he was honestly annoyed or not. "Well, come on, we have work to do!" Kurt sounded far too excited. Surprisingly, the counter tenor was actually in a personalized work suit, and hadn't complained about it once.

"We?" Blaine had been around and worked on cars before. Despite Kurt's automatic assumption, he did know _how _to change a tire, he had just never used the knowledge.

"Yes. I brought you along with me, and now I'm going to put you to work," Kurt said, smiling wickedly. Blaine gulped.

* * *

><p>"Well, they're cute," Andy announced, bringing Burt the fan belt he needed.<p>

"What are you talking about?" Burt asked from where his head was currently inside a 1976 Impala.

"Kurt and Kurt's boyfriend?" Only because he knew Andy so well could he tell it was a question.

"No," Burt answered shortly. He should have known Andy wouldn't leave it at that.

"No what? No, he's not Kurt's boyfriend? No, they aren't cute together? No, we're not discussing this?" Andy pestered him. The man honestly hadn't changed that much from when he was Kurt's age.

"No, he's not Kurt's boyfriend, and no, we're not discussing this," Burt said, uselessly rolling his eyes.

"You haven't said whether you think they're cute or not," Andy said with a grin. Burt ignored him. "It certainly seems like they're dating." Kurt rolled his eyes as he patiently explained something to the boy helping him, who seemed to be checking out his ass.

"Yes, I know, but they've assured me they're not, and I trust my son."

"And what? You don't trust this kid? He seems plenty polite and all. Isn't he from that new preppy school you're sending Kurt to?" The boy grinned as a little oil spilled from where Kurt was working. Kurt was still talking, but the boy was ignoring him (as most people tended to do). Scooping up some of the oil quickly, the boy advanced on the car.

"No, I don't particularly trust him. He hasn't given me any reason to yet. But he is from 'that new preppy school.'" Andy could hear the air quotes in Burt's voice, and sometimes he was too much like his son. The boy (really, he should find out his name soon) proceeded to dump the oil in Kurt's hair. Kurt screeched like a banshee. "What was that?" Burt asked, not looking up from his work. Well, Kurt's voice was easily recognizable.

"That kid put oil in Kurt's hair, and Kurt proceeded to scream. It was quite amusing actually, I sure like him. Anyway, has this kid given you a reason not to trust him?" Burt laughed quietly.

"No, not yet. I was worried to let him sleep in Kurt's room though." Andy watched as Kurt picked up a monkey wrench and apparently threatened to pound the boy's skull in with it.

"He's sleeping in Kurt's room? Are you out of your mind?" The boy looked suitably chastised and Kurt rolled his eyes, probably muttering about how long it would take him to clean his hair now. Andy pitied anyone who had to share a bathroom with him.

"It's the only option," Burt sounded frustrated. "Finn's in there too, and I made Kurt promise.." His sentence trailed off.

"But you're still nervous." Andy knew what the end of that sentence would have been. "Kurt's your baby boy after all. But, honestly, you can't watch the two of them interact for more than five minutes and not see there's something between the two of them." Kurt laughed loudly enough that Andy could hear him at something Blaine said, and looked embarrassed when everyone stared at them. "He looks happy, though," Andy offered, like it was some sort of compromise.

"Yeah, there's definitely something there all right," Burt rumbled gruffly.

* * *

><p>"You're just lucky I like you, Anderson. Anyone else would have been dead," Kurt grumbled, still working on the car's engine. It was extremely hard (no pun intended) for Blaine to form normal sentences with Kurt bent over the hood of a car.<p>

"Well, we all know how special I am!" Blaine responded cheerily.

"Yeah... you're 'special' alright." Somehow, Kurt made it sound like an insult. "And... done! Honestly, keep your car well-maintenanced to begin with and you won't have to pay for expensive repairs like this," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes, standing back up. Just then, the annoying bell Kurt had complained about rang.

"Kurt, can you get that?" Burt yelled from where he was working on a considerably old Chevy. Blaine wasn't car-savvy enough to know what kind or year it was. Kurt rolled his eyes again and grumbled under his breath.

"Stay," he ordered Blaine like he was a puppy, before walking determinately up to the desk. "Hello, how can I help you?" Kurt asked formally, looking up into... familiar brown eyes. "Oh, hi, Quinn," Kurt greeted her with a smile.

"You have grease in your hair," she replied with a smile. She looked happy.

"Thanks to the idiot I decided to invite into my home for about two weeks," Kurt grumbled. "Anyway, how can I help you?" he asked again.

"As wonderful as the car my parents bought me is, it occasionally needs it's repairs." Kurt just raised an eyebrow. Quinn would know what he meant. "My brakes are malfunctioning. Someday, I'm going to be on the freeway and they're going to stop working," she said dramatically. "Help, please?" Quinn's eyes twinkled, she was obviously having fun being dramatic. Being free of Beth and being together with Sam had made her much happier, outside of a Cheerio's uniform, that is.

"Easy enough. Please excuse my language for a moment. Andy! Get your lazy ass out here and bring Q's car in!" Kurt always treated Andy like he was a low-class worker, because Andy would just laugh.

"Coming, _boss_," he said with a snide edge. "Your dad and I were having quite the interesting conversation." Something in his tone worried Kurt. "Key, ma'am?" he asked Quinn politely. "Oh, and the guy is here to pick up that ratty Toyota you've been slaving over." Fantastic.

Kurt left the always-empty counter and headed back towards the workroom. Blaine was sitting on the ground by the Toyota, clearly playing the abandoned puppy. A rather burly man was talking to his father, who looked annoyed.

"Stay," Kurt commanded Blaine again before walking over to his dad and the man. "And here is your key, sir. If you would just drive it out of exit port three, it would be very-"

"Who the hell is this _faggot_ with my key?" Kurt froze, the expected shot of pain flew through his heart.

"He's my son, and you best keep moving," Burt said, obviously angry, his face turning red.

"Dad, your heart," Kurt said automatically.

"Listen here, if you want to run a successful business in this town, you better kick him to the streets. Does no good having that kind around normal people. It's a God damn shame people like us have to deal with people like him, aye?" A hint of accent slipped into his tone at the last part.

"You listen here, buddy! That boy is my son and you better God damn well leave, else I'll kill you with-"

"Is there a problem?" Andy asked loudly, walking over closely followed by Quinn (who probably just wanted her key back). Andy was a lot bigger than the man, and taller too. He'd had a questionable past, which resulted in his shaved head and odd assortment of tattoos. He was considerably more of a threat to this man than Kurt's dad seemed, and the man took a few steps back.

"Give me my God damn key, fuckin' cock sucker," the man snarled, snatching the key out of Kurt's hand and quickly half-running away. Andy seemed ready to follow him, tensed and angry.

"Don't," Kurt said quickly. "He's not worth it, and I've been called worse. Just go back to your work, and Dad, go take a few minutes to calm down." Kurt kept his tone even but firm, and his instructions were followed. Quinn stayed back.

"Are you alright?" she asked, hesitantly putting a hand on Kurt's arm.

"I'm fine, Quinn. The words hurt, but I'm worth more than that man will ever be," Kurt said firmly, forcing himself to smile at her.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me, or you?" Damn, Quinn could be perceptive sometimes. Kurt didn't answer, Quinn knew what the proper one was. "Come here," she murmured softly, hugging the boy. Quinn's embrace felt so... motherly, and loving.

Kurt pulled away after a few seconds. "Thank you, Quinn," he gave her a more genuine smile, and she smiled back. "Now, I have work to do. Do... you have a ride home?" he asked, because he didn't like the idea of Quinn walking, even in this nice part of town.

"My mother is waiting outside in the embarrassing Cheerio's minivan," Quinn said with a long-suffering sigh. Kurt just smiled.

"I'll see you... soon." Kurt hesitated because... who knew when he would see Quinn next?

"Bye, Kurt," she said with a smile. Kurt watched her go and rolled his eyes as a few of the younger employees watched as well. Honestly, was that all guys think about?

Walking back over to where he had left his very silly, dramatic, and loveable best friend, who had actually moved when the homophobic man came over, he smiled slightly. "Life, huh?"

"Are you okay?" Blaine sounded so concerned, his soft hazel eyes boring into Kurt's own blue ones.

"We'll talk about it later. For now, we have brake work to do," Kurt announced, leading him over towards Quinn's red car. Blaine would understand better than anyone.

* * *

><p>"<em>Evita<em>?" Blaine suggested, scanning through Kurt and Finn's combined collection of movies. Finn was over at Artie's, playing mindless video games (and trying to get over Rachel... again), so Kurt and Blaine planned to curl up with a movie (which would probably end up being a musical).

"You would spend the whole time bemoaning what a horrible Evita Madonna made, and then I would spend the whole time smacking you and lecturing you on what an amazing talent she was," Kurt said with a sigh. "Besides, I'm not in the mood to deal with a bitchy first lady who screws all of her people over, as well as every guy she sees."

"Well, how about _Repo!_? Blood, guts, angry rock music... fits your mood better," Blaine teased, pulling out the DVD.

"And Sarah. What could possibly make a movie more amazing?" Kurt grinned.

"Alright then!" Blaine said, pulling the DVD out of it's case with a flourish and popping it in the Blu-Ray. "Let's watch Anthony Head rip out someone's intestines and use their body for a ventriloquist dummy in fifty-five inches of glorious high definition!" he said cheerily, and Kurt laughed.

As Terrance Zdunich told the audience about the horrors of the repo men, Kurt and Blaine tried to get comfortable on the couch. Neither of them were sure where the friend line ended as far as watching a movie together went, Kurt because his girl friends usually ended up draped over him (they didn't care), and Blaine because what was normal for Dalton wasn't normal for the rest of the world. Eventually, Blaine ended up resting his head against one arm of the couch, laying spread out, his feet on the opposite side of Kurt from the TV, and Kurt curled up, half-sitting, making sure not to block Blaine's view.

Kurt was apparently in a very bad mood, as he giggled and downright laughed watching the repo men kill people and slit throats. "Do you want to talk about it?" Blaine asked hesitantly, because this was obviously about what had happened at the garage today.

Kurt sighed, turning away from the screen as Shilo snuck into her mom's grave. "I just hate it. What about the fact that they're straight makes them any better than me?"

"It doesn't. They think it does, but it doesn't. Kurt, you are an amazing person, and nothing one barbaric bone-head thinks about you can change that," Blaine said, sitting up.

"It's not just one barbaric bone-head though," Kurt smiled slightly at Blaine's term, "it's a nation of them! The men at the mall, the jocks, every single person who votes no for gay marriage!" Blaine knew what he meant.

"You know that's not true," Blaine crawled closer to his best friend. "Look at how much progress Finn has made! Even Puck! And your dad was one of the ignorant jocks in high school, and having you completely turned his world around!"

"Karma," Kurt murmured.

"No," Blaine said vehemently, and Kurt looked up at him, surprised. "Karma is a _bad _thing happening to you because you did something bad. I won't deny that your father wasn't the nicest, but he wasn't a bad person, and you are not a bad thing. You were the universe trying to teach him a lesson."

"That's what I meant, Blaine, I didn't mean that I was something bad that happened to him," Kurt said with a patient smile. "You're taking that a little too literally."

"Perhaps. But you have to understand that things _will _change! They may just take a while, but doesn't everything that's worth it?" Blaine smiled at his best friend. "It'll be alright, Kurt, I promise." Ignoring the throb in his heart, Blaine hugged his friend, pressing a kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"Thank you. You always know just what to say," Kurt said honestly.

"Face it. I. Am. _Amazing_," Blaine said loftily, laying back down. Kurt threw a pillow at him.

* * *

><p>"Really? Again?" Blaine exclaimed as Kurt faked sleep on the air mattress.<p>

"You're not the only one who can be a gentleman," Kurt murmured, refusing to open his eyes.

"Don't make me climb in there and kick you out of my bed." Kurt's mind filled with inappropriate images at the thought. "You know I will," Blaine threatened, pulling up the sheets.

"Just go to bed, Blaine!" Kurt yelped, pulling his sheets closer. Regardless of what he told Charlie, he wasn't sure he wouldn't jump Blaine if Blaine got into his bed with him and started wrestling with him. This was one of the times he wished Finn wasn't capable of sleeping through an avalanche.

"You see, I would, but there happens to be this annoying boy who won't get out of my bed and return to his own. Not that I would mind sharing a bed with him," Blaine said with a wink. Kurt swallowed. No, Blaine didn't mean it, he was just teasing. It was hard remembering that as Blaine tried once again to climb onto the bed with him.

"You know, I was sleeping quite peacefully until this irritating boy kept trying to climb in bed with me. Honestly, some people need to learn you have to at least buy a guy a drink first!" Kurt teased back, pulling his blankets close.

"Oh, really?" Blaine joked, this time climbing onto the bed, ignoring the lack of covers. "Well, try and tell that to the annoying boy currently inhabiting my bed," Blaine climbed over and was leaning over Kurt, practically straddling him. This could not end well.

"Tell that to the irritating one who is now trying to sleep on top of me," Kurt tried to shoot back, only it came out as more of a squeak.

"You win," Blaine declared with a sigh, climbing off Kurt. "But I rest assured that eventually your wish to sleep in your own bed will eventually overpower your desire to be a gentleman. Or... I might just succeed in kicking you out of my bed," Blaine continued with another wink. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

><p>When Blaine walked upstairs the next morning, he was greeted by the sight of an annoyed looking Finn and a rather red Kurt. "For the last time, Finn, nothing happened," Kurt said. Blaine wondered if this was about him or something else.<p>

"Kurt, it's kind of obvious that you lied. Come on, something's going on that you're not telling me about." Blaine could see Kurt swallow his temper.

"What does it matter? I'm never going to see him again!" Kurt kept his voice soft, despite how obviously annoyed he was.

"Maybe you could get him re-expelled!" Oh, so it was about Karofsky. Blaine was starting to wonder if it was about a guy... well, a past friend of Kurt's.

"Trust me, Finn. Nothing I could say or do now would possibly get him re-expelled, especially since I'm no longer in danger. I ran away, Finn, and now no one cares what happened." Kurt sounded considerably saddened, like it was his fault he was afraid of being sexually assaulted.

"You didn't run away," Blaine announced his presence. Kurt opened his mouth to protest and Blaine cut him off. "You convinced me I didn't run away, now I get to convince you. What happened to me was nothing compared to what happened to you, what Finn knows about and what he doesn't. If I didn't run away, you didn't run away." Finn frowned.

"He knows?"

"It's kind of my fault, actually," Blaine said with a frown.

"Blaine, it was _not _your fault. There is no way you could have known, and if the situation had been what we thought it to be, it would have been excellent advice. He was just more... volatile then we had expected, and that's nobody's fault," Kurt said firmly. When Blaine didn't say anything, Kurt turned to Finn. "You have to go to school. I realize that you didn't yesterday, but you have to today. I think you can handle one more day before Christmas break."

"Not without punching Karofsky's dumb, butt-ugly face off," Finn practically growled, but he headed downstairs anyway.

"Have you even told your dad?" Blaine asked. Kurt looked horrified by the idea.

"You're kidding me, right? He threatened to take a _flamethrower _to McKinley if I didn't get to audition for a _solo_! Imagine what he'd do if he found out, especially because he likes Ms. Sylvester and he thinks Figgins is an ignorant moron. Not that I disagree. But still, I'm never going to tell my dad what happened. He's better not knowing." Kurt nodded, like he was trying to convince himself. "What would you like for breakfast?" he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

"I can make breakfast myself, you know." When Kurt ignored him, Blaine said "Waffles, please." Kurt began the waffles and Blaine switched the subject back. "Did you ever think that telling somebody might help you... get over it?"

"I did tell someone. You. And I am over it," Kurt said flatly, no emotion showing whatsoever in his face. His shoulders, however, were tense, his hands clenched into fists.

"You know, there is such a thing as a frozen waffle." Kurt made a grossed-out face, and plugged in the waffle iron. "And you are not over it, you flinch whenever somebody says his name, or whenever someone gets too close. You're not afraid of him, but he traumatized you, Kurt. That's not the kind of thing you can get over in a month and a half." Kurt swallowed audibly.

"It isn't that big a deal, Blaine. It was just a kiss," he said. With a little sigh, he added "my first kiss" under his breath, as he always did.

"Exactly. That's something that shouldn't be stolen from you. Your first kiss should be perfect and magical and all that ridiculously sappy gay crap." Blaine's words had the intended effect, Kurt started laughing, doubling over and trying to catch his breath. "But, seriously, that will haunt you for the rest of your life. You can't just be over it."

"Maybe you're right... but maybe you're wrong. Maybe I'm not as fragile as you think I am," Kurt said, trying and failing to sound ominous.

"The strongest person in the world would be broken by that," Blaine said flatly, and Kurt sighed again.

"I... I'm dealing with it," he admitted with a sigh. "But I still don't think telling anyone's a good idea, if only for his sake," Kurt said, pouring the first waffle onto the iron.

"You're too generous," Blaine pouted. Kurt ignored him.

* * *

><p>"Christmas break!" Puck yelled as the members of New Directions stormed the Hudmel house. "We're out, bitches!"<p>

"Is this the central hang out for the William McKinley High Glee club?" Blaine asked, amused, as everyone made themselves at home. He and Kurt had spent the day relaxing and watching musicals, Kurt bemoaning the calories of everything he ate.

"Unfortunately, yes," Kurt said dryly. Blaine couldn't tell if he was kidding.

"Stop being such a stick-ass, Hummel, you know you love us." Puck smacked a wet kiss to Kurt's cheek, making Kurt squirm and wipe at his face.

"Well, now that I have to _boil_ my _face_, the least you could do is call me by my first name," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. He had to admire how much Puck had changed. Last year Puck wouldn't even touch Kurt (unless it was to throw him in the dumpster or slam him into a locker).

"You mean your Christian name?" Quinn said with a laugh. Kurt made a face at her.

"Well, that was attractive," Lauren said with a snort. Blaine had to disagree (mentally), it was actually pretty cute. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Why are you all even here?" Blaine asked. Didn't they want to be with their families? Or have anything better to do?

"Well, my fathers-" Santana cut Rachel off by slapping a hand over her mouth.

"We have as much right to be here as you do, Hobbit," she said, sneering rather unattractively.

"Yes, minus the fact that Blaine is an invited guest," Kurt replied with a smirk. Santana and Kurt seemed to have an interestingly complex love-hate relationship.

"Well, there's a fight over head-bitch-in-charge in the making!" Or perhaps Puck's assessment was more accurate.

"Stop the violence," Brittany said, rather quietly for the statement she was making, yet both Santana and Kurt stopped immediately.

"Sorry, Britts," Santana said with a rare smile.

"Alright, we all know if we get together, we're gonna end up playing a game. Let's get to it," Mercedes sounded slightly resigned, though Blaine couldn't figure out a reason why.

"I suggest we do a show circle!" Rachel said immediately.

"And risk Blaine and I having valuable knowledge of your future strategies," Kurt countered immediately, cutting off Santana.

"We could do truth or dare," Quinn suggested again. This time there were slow nods of agreement. Kurt gave Blaine a secret smile, and Blaine gulped, remembering the last time the two had been a part of truth or dare.

"Are there any rules on who starts?" Rachel asked, obviously wary.

"We could do it spin-the-bottle style," Tina suggested.

"Prison rules," Santana decided with a nod. Kurt's eyes widened.

"No way, San. You know perfectly well what that means, don't even try to give me that innocent look." Santana had been attempting puppy-dog eyes, which clashed with the satisfied smirk on her face.

"Fine. We can play by the pansy rules, I guess," she conceded with a roll of her eyes.

"Who spins?"

"First born," Santana decided. "Birthdays?"

"November 18th, 1993" Rachel said with a very camera-ready smile.

"March 3rd, 1994" Quinn went next.

"January 2nd, 1994" Sam looked relieved.

"August 23rd, 1993" Lauren said with a shrug.

"January 25th, 1994," Blaine spoke up.

"April 13th, 1994," Kurt added quietly from next to him.

"September 12th, 1993," Finn said with a smile. "Little bro." Kurt glared at him.

"July 31st, 1993," Santana said victoriously.

"August 8th, 1993," Brittany said from next to her.

"August 1st, 1993," Puck glared at Santana. At the moment, a very easy judge of someone's character was their reaction to someone else's birthday.

"February 28th, 1994," Tina added.

"April 18th, 1994," Mercedes grinned at Kurt, who grinned back.

"May 20th, 1994," Artie said.

"December 9th, 1993," Mike was the last to speak.

"Excellent!" Santana looked rather like a predatory cat with that grin on her face. She span the bottle, pouting when it landed on Mercedes.

"Truth or dare?" she said with a sigh, as though the 'truth' option was a waste of her time.

"Truth," Mercedes said firmly. Considering who she was talking to, it seemed a pretty sound idea.

"Did you actually manage to escape a relationship with Noah Puckerman without one _kiss_?" Santana asked, eagerly leaning forward like some no-good paparazzi rat.

"No, we kissed," Mercedes said, sounding annoyed.

"Tongue or no tongue?" Technically, Mercedes didn't have to answer that, but she did anyway.

"No tongue whatsoever." Gasps followed Mercedes statement, and Puck grinned, flexing his guns.

"From Noah Puckerman?" Quinn asked, shocked. "Doesn't even count as a kiss!"

"Exactly," Mercedes said firmly, leaning over to spin the bottle. Blaine couldn't decide whether he was relieved or horrified when it landed on him. "Truth or dare, Warbler?" He got the strange feeling that, even with Kurt at Dalton, he was the only person they considered a Warbler in the room.

"Dare." The first question that would pop out of her mouth if he said 'truth' would be 'do you like Kurt?' and the honest answer was, of course, 'yes,' but that wouldn't go over well.

"Kiss Santana," Mercedes said with a smirk. Wasn't she supposed to be one of the _least_ vindictive people in the room? Santana scrambled over to the couch and started kissing him fervently. Blaine just sat there, letting his mind wander.

"Ugh, loser," Santana finally gave up and sprang off of him.

"This is going to turn into 'Spin the Bottle' anyway, isn't it?" Rachel asked and everybody nodded.

In the end, Blaine ended up kissing Santana again, Tina on the cheek, and sharing one (shockingly electric) peck with Kurt (again), both turning bright red as they did so. Honestly, how much entertainment value was there in embarrassing the two of them?

* * *

><p>His son, Burt had decided with reluctance, was completely in love with this Blaine kid. For about a week, he had been watching the two interact. Never had he seen Kurt more happy, or open. Kurt was all smiles.<p>

It reminded Burt so much of himself and Elizabeth at their age. Just blind best friends who were constantly irritating each other. The teasing, the laughing, and calling each other only by their last names. The way Kurt looked at him when Blaine had his back turned, and vice versa, the way Blaine would lazily brush hair out of Kurt's eyes, the way Kurt made Blaine breakfast every morning, no matter how many times Blaine said he could cook his own, the way the two would always fight over who had the air mattress and who slept in the bed (Kurt, he knew, had yet to lose that battle). Burt knew that Blaine knew more about Kurt then anyone else, even him. Kurt told Blaine everything, more then he would ever tell Mercedes.

He had watched the two decorate the house together, arguing over colors and designs, tackling each other to get the best decorations, Kurt draping tinsel around Blaine and laughing as the smaller boy paraded around the house like he was on a runway. He knew he _would_ like the kid when they started dating, but he had a feeling that would be a long time away. Burt couldn't understand why he felt that way though.

The other thing Burt didn't understand was how neither of them seemed to see it. Carole had certainly seen it, and the New Directions had obviously picked up on it before he had. Whenever someone said anything to the two of them, they would deny it heavily, rolling their eyes, complaining how people 'always thought that.' How could they not? Sometimes Burt even wondered if they were hiding their relationship for some reason (though they certainly weren't doing it very _well_), but what reason could they possibly have?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, Klainey fluff and cuteness for you all with a little bit of angst hidden in there. Next chapter will start with Christmas Eve's Day (that's confusing). One small reference to **_'Who's Got Extra Love?'_ from Zanna Don't.

**Reviews are Love.**


	12. Christmas Eve Day

**A/N: So, this chapter epically kicked my ass. I really, *really* apologize for the long wait. My Klaine muse went on vacation (or my Puckurt muse staged a hostile takeover. Knowing Puck, probably the latter), work has been horrid, my internet was down for over two weeks, and real life kept getting in the way. Read on. Oh, and you should all go check out the story 'Odds and Ends' by Stardust585, if you're a Furt brotherly fan (there's Klaine in there too), and 'Kiss' by foraworldundeserving.  
><strong>

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><p>"Happy Christmas Eve Day!" Blaine announced cheerily. Kurt had been up on the phone with Rachel late last night, trying once again to console her over the epic falling out between she and Finn. This caused Blaine to be awake before him, which annoyed Kurt considerably. Yet, Kurt still got the air mattress.<p>

"Has anyone ever informed you of how annoying you are?" Kurt glared at his best friend, nursing what must be his fourth cup of coffee. Kurt was _not_ a morning person without at least three cups of coffee, and the amount of coffee consumed was linked to the amount of sleep gotten.

"Multiple times!" Blaine tried to be as upbeat and happy as possible, because he knew it would drive Kurt insane. Kurt had worked his hardest to be annoyingly cheery whenever Blaine was cranky, all he was doing was returning the favor.

"At least we got all the decorating done." Blaine had been included in Kurt's whirlwind of decorating, which the rest of the family had removed themselves from the path of. Kurt draped matching, non-tacky tinsel, ornaments, and every type of Christmas decoration in existence over every inch of the house. It looked festive, yet classy. He had expected nothing less.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me that you were my slave driver for most of the last week!" They had actually had fun and joked around putting up the decorations (though they were still efficient), but Blaine was seeing how much of a rise he could get out of Kurt. It felt like bating a dragon.

"If you want a slave driver, try being Ms. Sylvester's head Cheerio for a week. Next to her, I'm a saint," Kurt said with what would have been a snort from anyone else, but from him (so he claimed) was a 'sniff.'

"I think I'll pass, thanks. Normal males bodies are not meant to be that flexible," Blaine teased. Kurt glared at him with little-to-no venom.

"I resent the implication that I am not normal," he said with a dramatic huff. Naturally, Blaine's best friend had to be a drama queen.

"You're not normal. You're special." The words sounded a lot friendlier in his head. When they came out of his mouth, it sounded like he was hitting on Kurt. Kurt didn't respond except for a roll of his eyes. "Don't be such a bum," Blaine joked with a smile, hitting his best friend lightly on the shoulder.

"I'm not being a bum. You're being ridiculous, and overly cheerful to boot," Kurt grumbled, finishing the last of his coffee.

"And you're exceptionally cranky," Blaine noted. "What's wrong?" A grimace flashed across Kurt's face before it settled into the defensive mask that Blaine hated, and he knew he had guessed right.

"Besides the fact that I had a momentary lapse into idiocy and decided in this time to invite an extremely cheerful moron to my house for eleven days, nothing really." Blaine chuckled at Kurt's rather dry humor, despite the fact he was the one being insulted.

"Well, 'nothing really' doesn't mean 'nothing.'" Blaine left his statement open, knowing that would prompt Kurt to talk.

"It's nothing, really. I just wish Finn and I were a little closer." Kurt shrugged. "It's not like I don't understand why we're not, but..." Kurt let his sentence trail off.

"That bothers you too," Blaine finished Kurt's sentence for him. Kurt just shrugged and went for another cup of coffee. "Well, I have an idea," Blaine offered. He didn't make a habit of offering his ideas unless he was sure they were fool-proof, because they had a tendency to backfire in dramatic ways.

Kurt just sighed, taking a sip of his _fifth_ cup of coffee. "What?" he asked, voice dry.

"Try creating a tradition." The look Kurt gave Blaine made him feel like a idiot. "Something you do every day or every week, even if it's just talking."

"Maybe that's a good idea," Kurt hedged carefully. Whether he was unsure of the idea or whether he though Blaine was an idiot and he didn't want to hurt his feelings, Blaine didn't know.

"There's got to be something the two of you have in common, even without New Directions." Blaine had grown to like Finn. He was easy-going, puppy-dog-like, rather loveable, and (though Blaine would never admit it out loud) _very_ cute. Honestly, Blaine could see why Kurt had liked him. It didn't hurt that the two had a lot in common.

"Maybe," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "Well, maybe I'll do something tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?" Christmas Eve, it was perfect!

"Finn and the rest of New Directions are _making_ a party at Mr. Schue's apartment." Blaine could _hear_ the hurt in Kurt's voice and knew he hadn't been invited.

"Did Finn tell you that?" Well, if he had, that was progress, right?

"No, Mercedes did." Kurt gave him a wry look, and it had clearly been obvious what he'd been thinking.

"What exactly does _making_ a party mean?" Blaine tried to change the subject, and Kurt gave him another look. Apparently, he was failing at subtle.

"Mr. Schue was going to be all alone on Christmas Eve, and he said he was okay with it. Rachel, however, was not okay with it, and, with the help of Coach Sylvester, is gathering all of New Directions in his apartment, decorating it, and bringing food. Sadly, she doesn't even celebrate Christmas." Blaine had to laugh a little, because _oh, Rachel_, she was so... unique.

"Your friends are out of their minds, you know that right?" Kurt just shrugged.

"At least she's not moaning about their break-up again."

* * *

><p>Kurt spent most of the morning doing last minute wrapping for his dad, and Blaine, to be honest, spent most of the day watching him. It was kind of entrancing, watching the focus in his glasz eyes, which seemed green in the dim lighting. He was... perfect.<p>

"Have you been listening to me?" Kurt snapped. Of course, the true answer was 'no,' but the _correct _answer was 'yes.'

"Of course," Blaine lied. Kurt obviously was _not _fooled.

"Then what did I just say?" Blaine shifted guiltily before deciding on giving Kurt the puppy-dog eyes. They always worked. "You weren't listening," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes, but he didn't sound mad.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said with a pout. Kurt wasn't actually mad at him, he hoped.

"Well, as I was saying, my father and Carole are going to a big Christmas concert in Charleston, so they won't be home until really early tomorrow morning. So, it's just you and I tonight." Blaine could hear the sadness in Kurt's voice, and remembered Kurt had said Christmas was 'usually family time.'

"Wait, like South Carolina?" If they hadn't left yet, there was no way they would make it to South Carolina by nightfall, it was half a day away.

"No, West Virginia. It's only four hours away." Kurt still sounded sad.

"Oh, alright. So, what do you want to do to celebrate?" Blaine asked, trying to be cheerful. This Christmas _would_ be fun for Kurt, he would make it so.

"I don't know," Kurt said with a shrug. Oh, so helpful.

"Well, what did you do before?" Kurt stared at him as if he was an idiot. "With your mom," Blaine added carefully, hating the flash of pain that went through Kurt's eyes.

"Usually curl up and watch _White Christmas_. We'd always open 'one' present early. We would usually end up opening two or three presents, I had her so wrapped around my finger." Kurt laughed slightly. "It'd just be... tradition, like you said earlier, and it was so familiar and so perfect. We," Kurt cleared his throat, "stopped making it a big event after she died."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said softly, resisting the urge to brush away the one lone tear that had escaped from Kurt's eyes.

"It's been years, Blaine, it's alright." Kurt tied the bow on the present he'd been wrapping. "But when I was a kid, the days before Christmas were amazing. We would build snowmen, go ice skating, drink hot cocoa, make dad do all of the shoveling," Kurt smiled softly, obviously lost in nostalgia.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Blaine asked brightly, bouncing off the bed. His best friend looked at him like he was insane. "It's Christmas Eve Day! We have to get going!" It was going to be _A Christmas to Remember_!

"Blaine, it's freezing outside." Kurt was still staring at him like he though the tenor had gone off the deep end.

"It's winter, dummy, of course it's cold! That's part of the fun! There are such things as indoor skating rinks!" Kurt _still_ looked like he thought Blaine had gone mad. "Come on, we have phone calls to make!" Ignoring the fact that Kurt still had more to wrap, Blaine practically bounced out of the room.

"Phone calls?" Kurt's voice trailed after him as the boy did the same.

"Of course! We might be all alone tonight, but New Directions are available for the day, aren't they?" There must be at least one member of the club who wanted to come ice skating with them.

"Are you out of your mind?" Kurt finally asked. "New Directions already tried rehearsing in a roller rink. Trust me, it was a fantastic failure. Is this part of your plan to break every single one of New Directions' collective bones so they won't be our competition for Regionals? That is not okay with me, Anderson!" Kurt had so much more imagination than most people.

"You have cheerleaders in your club! Surely some of you must have coordination... maybe we just won't invite Finn." Kurt giggled. "Yeah, we're definitely not inviting Finn."

"Blaine, I appreciate the effort, but you don't have to do this." Kurt followed his best friend into the kitchen. It was there that Blaine realized that A) he had a cell phone, B) he would have no way of knowing New Directions' numbers otherwise, and C) he had no reason for going to the kitchen.

"I don't _have_ to, I _want_ to! Honestly, Kurt, you do so much for everyone else. Let someone do something for you for a change." Blaine pulled out his phone. Ignoring the 34 messages he had from Charlie (he hadn't texted the other boy since he had arrived at Kurt's house), he dialed Mercedes.

* * *

><p>"This is a ridiculous idea, you know," Kurt said, teeth clattering as they walked into the Lima Community Skating Rink. "Somebody's going to get hurt."<p>

"You're such a pessimist. Do you honestly believe that everyone in your old club is completely incapable?" Blaine's confidence was slightly ruined by the fact that he tripped as he was speaking and almost face-planted onto the ice-covered concrete.

"Yes, I honestly believe that everyone in the New Directions have no coordination. Clearly, you don't either." Kurt had stepped away as Blaine started to fall, clearly not planning to go down with him.

"You have no faith. It'll be fun!" Blaine tried to encourage his friend as he held the door open for him. Kurt blushed, but walked through anyway.

All of New Directions (apparently, everyone had been available. Therefore, there was no way to get out of inviting Finn) was waiting in a section of the bleachers to the left of the door. Brittany had her hand pressed against the top of her mouth like she had burned herself on the ridiculously hot cocoa she had bought at the rink and Artie was now holding for her. Finn and Rachel were sitting on the opposite ends of the group, Finn chatting with Sam, and Rachel arguing with Santana.

"Hey guys!" Blaine called out cheerily as they walked over to the group.

"Hey soon-to-be-Regionals-losers!" Oh, Rachel. Kurt scoffed.

"Well, that was shockingly witty, Rachel. Have you been taking lessons from Santana?" he drawled sarcastically, earning a glare from the Latina Cheerio.

"Shut up, Hummel, or I'll crack one of your nuts!" she called loudly across the rink, not caring that there were children skating mere feet from where she was sitting.

"Santana, dearest, we're in a children's rink! Perhaps you could try to keep the language PG?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck that!" she yelled even louder, clearly trying to annoy Kurt, who simply ignored her.

"Everyone ready to skate?" Rachel asked cheerfully, clearly trying to break up the argument.

* * *

><p>Rachel was spinning in circles and trying moves that she obviously could not perform. Probably trying to impress Finn, who was slipping and falling all over the place and occasionally dragging people down with him, club members and strangers. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were twirling around and performing flawless double axles, gaining them quite a crowd from the other, inexperienced skaters. Mercedes, Tina, and Lauren were just skating in circles around the ice, chatting and probably gossiping. Puck was trying to hit on every girl skating, while Sam and Mike were part of the crowd watching the Cheerios. Artie was still talking to the managers, trying to get his wheels changed so he could come out on the ice as well.<p>

Kurt and Blaine were circling and weaving through other skaters. For once, it was Blaine who was going on and on about what they would do today, and Kurt rolling his eyes, pretending he wasn't listening even though he was.

"...we could build a snowman, and we could find some old cheap scarf to put on it, don't worry, it won't be one of your McQueen ones. We could make snow angels, if you'd stop being prissy about your clothes for five seconds. Oh! We should go sledding!" Blaine stopped his tirade to look over at his best friend, who was watching Quinn attempt a triple axle. "I know you're listening to me," he accused the counter tenor.

"Of course I am. I'm just ignoring you for favor of something more interesting than your endless rant of what you seemed to be convince we have to do before the sun goes down or else the world will perish," Kurt said dryly, spinning around to Blaine's other side as the tenor tried to block Quinn from his view. "She totally nailed that."

"By the way, I like your jacket, though it doesn't seem like much of a winter jacket." For the record, the jacket was cute, and actually, surprisingly masculine, but it didn't look Ohio-snow-proof.

"Well, technically, it's a windbreaker." Blaine gave his friend a look. Honestly, Kurt would rather look fabulous and freeze to death than wear something without a famous name attached to it. "But it's Gucci!" Kurt defended. Point proven.

"Someday, your obsession with fashion will cause you serious harm," Blaine vowed, bumping his friend's shoulder.

"Well, that's when I'm going to need you the most, isn't it?" Kurt said with a grin, quickly dodging the hand that flew to ruffle his hair. "Anderson! Do. Not. Touch. The. _Hair_."

"Couldn't resist," Blaine grinned back at his friend. Kurt looked exceedingly cute, he had to admit, with his rosy cheeks, slightly ruffled hair, and stylish jacket. He was also skating as if he could join the girls with the double axles at any moment, and Blaine wondered if skating was part of Cheerio training. In Ms. Sylvester's brain, it would make sense.

"Hey losers," Santana announced her presence, sending up a flurry of ice flakes as she pulled to a short stop in front of them, causing Blaine to almost skate into her. "Hummel, Q wants your help to try out some skating move."

Kurt looked hesitant, probably because he knew that (despite their interesting times spent together) Blaine wasn't really close to anyone in the New Directions.

Don't worry, I'll take care of your boy-toy, Hum-drum. Shoo." Santana forcefully grabbed Blaine's arm and skated him away.

"What move is Quinn trying?" Blaine asked as Santana dragged him across the rink.

"She's not trying anything different. I just wanted to have a little chat with you, and Hummel's sticking to you like cancer. Honestly," the Cheerio rolled her eyes, "could he be any more protective?"

"Protective?" Is that why Kurt hadn't left him alone for one minute with anyone from New Directions besides Finn?

"Well, there's nothing to protect you from unless you screw up. Listen, Hobbit, I'll make this short," Blaine almost snorted at the bad pun, "we all love Kurt. I may act like a total bitch in front of everyone, and he does the same, but we're actually a lot alike, okay? Kurt's the strongest person I know, but he's kinda fragile. You should be smart enough to know what I mean. So, you hurt him, and I'll turn you over to _Mercedes_. That should be enough of a threat for you." Santana tightened her grip on his arm for a moment, wicked fingernails threatening to break through the surface of his jacket, before she let go and skated away.

"What was that about?" Rachel asked from a few feet away, picking herself up from the ground after another failed attempt at a trick. Finn had joined the crowd watching the Cheerios, and she had obviously given up trying to impress him back into her arms.

"Santana was threatening me with Mercedes' wrath if I were to ever hurt Kurt," Blaine smiled. "The twelve of you are the most protective and loving bunch I've ever met. I mean, the Warblers are close, but it's nothing like this. I'm honestly surprised that it took this long for one of you to threaten me."

"Kurt's a special person," Rachel said with a smile, taking the arm Blaine offered her. "He's a... contradiction in every way. One of the smartest things Finn ever said to me was that Kurt is like a Rubik's cube. You get one side figured out, and then you realize you have another side all wrong."

"Except a Rubik's cube is solvable. Kurt is _not_." Blaine grinned.

"I think you're doing a pretty good job of figuring him out, Mr. Warbler," Rachel said with a giggle. "Speaking of which, where did he go?" Kurt hadn't returned from 'helping' Quinn.

"I think he got dragged into doing tricks with the Cheerios. Was it part of their training or something?" Maybe Rachel would know.

"It wouldn't surprise me." Rachel laughed. "And remember that the threat Santana gave you goes for all of us. Myself included, even though I've grown quite fond of you. Possibly because you're teased almost as much as I am for being short." Blaine grinned at Rachel's logic.

"Well, I appreciate the compliment, I guess."

"And, although you're the competition, I must say you have a commendable voice. One of the only males I've ever met who could keep up with me vocally." Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Never say that in front of Kurt. _Ever_, if you value your life. That's like insulting his Gucci jacket. Unacceptable." Rachel giggled again.

"Kurt is another one of those males, and he knows it. Honestly, I was surprised that he didn't get the solo he wanted in the Warblers," Rachel said with a raised eyebrow, obviously demanding an explanation.

"Well, the Warblers is run a little differently." Rachel's look didn't budge. "I'm not giving away trade secrets, Rachel. I'm no traitor." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"If I really wanted information about the Warblers, I would give Kurt my show-business pout, patent pending. It works on everyone." 'Patent pending'? Really?

"Then what are you asking for?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow of his own.

"A reason Kurt didn't deserve that solo, even over you." Rachel was, Blaine realized, fiercely protective of Kurt in her own way. She tried to make sure that everything was fair for him, even if she believed she should win, she wins fair and square.

"I didn't make the decision, Rachel. The council did, and they don't tell anyone their reasons behind their decisions. Not even their best friends," he pointed to himself. "Personally, I think Kurt is far more deserving of a solo then any other Warblers. His voice is _beautiful_. If it makes you feel any better, he had a lot of solos in our Christmas concert." Blaine couldn't identify the look Rachel was giving him.

"You like him." Would everyone figure this out before Kurt did?

"Rachel, Kurt is my best friend, but I don't think of him in that way," or I try hard not to, he finished mentally.

"Sure you don't." Rachel kissed him on the cheek. "I think Mercedes wants to threaten you now." The gossip group had reached a full circle and were waiting impatiently right near them. Rachel skated away with a smile, heading towards the circle around the Cheerios. No doubt going to talk to Finn, who would reject her or ignore her. While Blaine was watching her skate away (and subtly scanning the crowd for his best friend), Tina, Mercedes, and Lauren surrounded him.

"Alright. I like you, white boy, and so does my boy. So I'm not going to hurt you. But Kurt means _everything_ to me, and to all of us. I swear, with God as my witness, that I will break every bone in your body if you harm a single hair on that boy's head. Clear?" Blaine never considered Mercedes scary, but now he understood why she was Santana's threat.

"And I will be more than happy to help. I've never really liked Hummel, he's kind of a nerd and he wears a lot of flashy clothing, but he can be pretty cool sometimes, and he's honestly pretty nice. As a begrudging member of this club, I am obligated to say I will cut your head off with a butter knife if you upset him." Blaine's hand flew to his throat because_ ouch!_

"I may be quiet, but let me assure you I am capable of some quite creative revenge. I managed to convince our principal that I was a vampire. Let's leave it at that." Blaine gulped. She hadn't bitten anyone, had she? Tina grinned wickedly.

"Oh my gosh, did you hear about Ms. Pillsbury and that dentist?" Mercedes asked Lauren, and Blaine was suddenly free.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry about that," Kurt apologized as they sat on the bleachers. Most of the Glee club was still out on the ice, Puck and the random girl he was making out with were the only other people they knew on the bleachers. "The girls," he explained at Blaine's look. "They can be... protective."<p>

"It's only because they care about you," Blaine said with a smile. "I'm just glad Mercedes didn't maim me right there and then." Kurt scoffed.

"I would have burned every hideous technicolor item in her closet if she had." In Kurt speak, that meant Blaine was worth a lot to him.

"Well thank you. They were pretty nice though, considering the fact that they don't even know me that well. I like Mercedes and Rachel in particular though." Well, he _had_ liked Rachel. He also figured that liking Mercedes would give Kurt more of an excuse to hang out with her.

"We'll have to spend time with them, then." Kurt sounded extremely happy.

"Yeah," Blaine murmured, sipping his boiling hot chocolate. Honestly, it wasn't even _that _cold in the rink! "What's the deal with Rachel and Finn anyway?" Kurt sighed.

"I already explained this to you," Kurt said with a raised eyebrow. Blaine stuck his tongue out and immediately regretted it. Maybe it _was_ that cold.

"Explain it to me again!" Blaine said with a smile. Kurt sighed (again), but did so anyway.

* * *

><p>Eventually, the New Directions had trickled out of the rink, and Blaine, Kurt, and Finn all returned to the Hudmel household. Blaine and Kurt had to wait for 15 minutes as Finn and Rachel argued.<p>

"Let's make a snowman!" Blaine suggested, almost immediately after they walked through the door.

"You never stop, do you?" Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "I can't have five minutes?" he asked, taking off and hanging up his 'jacket' before sitting on the couch.

"Nope!" he exclaimed cheerily. "We have work to do." The look Kurt gave him could have cut steel. "Making a snowman is fun! You said you used to do it," Blaine said with a pout.

"When I was _five_. That doesn't even count," Kurt argued, but Blaine could see him giving in.

"Please! Please, please, _please_," Blaine begged, getting down on his knees in front of Kurt.

"You are a horrible, miserable beggar, and I am not giving into you. Also, get up of your knees, Finn will undoubtedly get the wrong idea and beat you to a pulp." Anyone else who had been listening to the conversation would have thought Kurt wouldn't mind that happening, but Blaine knew that Kurt was just being remarkably dry.

"Please!" Blaine begged one more time, pouting some more.

"Fine. As long as none of my vintage, thousand dollar scarves are involved in this plot of yours, we can make a snowman." Kurt sounded annoyed, but a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"You're the bestest best friend ever!" Blaine announced, clinging to Kurt's legs like a small child.

"You're putting shame on Dalton with your lack of decorum," Kurt commented and Blaine ignored him.

* * *

><p>"I mentioned to you that I hate cold, correct? Which eventually extends to a hatred of snow, and then winter. Naturally, being the wonderful friend that you are, you decide to combine three of my worst hatreds in one activity. Honestly, I thought you couldn't get worse than the ice skating and the inevitable injuries," Kurt complained as they trudged out behind the Hudmel house. Blaine rolled his eyes at his best friends melodramatic spiel. Finn would have a few bruises in the morning, but that hardly counted as injuries.<p>

"You get hot cocoa after we're done," Blaine sing-songed and the ranting immediately stopped.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" One of Kurt's gloved hands reached out to grab Blaine's, pulling him forward as Kurt ran through the mid-calf-deep snow. He could deny it all he wanted, but this was obviously one of Kurt's favorite Christmas time activities.

"Slow down, crazy. Slow down," Blaine quoted, stumbling to catch up with his over-excited friend.

"Don't you quote Sassy Gay Friend at me!" Kurt managed to sound irritated, sassy, and out of breath all at once. One of those unique talents that came with being Kurt Hummel, Blaine supposed.

"I wouldn't if it wasn't necessary," Blaine panted out. Kurt, it turned out, was designed for speed in all temperatures. Blaine was _not_, and was quickly running out of breath.

"Here? Is here good?" They were far enough from the house to qualify (in Blaine's words) as 'in a winter wonderland,' but they were also far enough from the trees that no kamikaze snow would kill their snowman.

"Perfect," Blaine tore his hand away to rest it on one of his knees. Jesus, Kurt could run.

"Come on! Come on, come on!" Kurt began rolling snow immediately, and wasn't Blaine supposed to be the bouncy child in this relationship?

"One sec," Blaine said. To be quite honest, this spot was a lot better for his original idea than for snowman building. They were only about ten feet from the trees.

Quickly walking that distance without Kurt noticing, the counter tenor too wrapped up in the bottom of the snowman, Blaine scooped up some snow, thankful that Kurt had gloves instead of mittens, and tossed it at the taller boy. The tenor ducked behind a tree immediately, hearing a sharp gasp as Kurt registered what had happened.

"Blaine Anderson! Did you just throw a _snowball _at me?" Blaine tried not to breath too loud as he heard Kurt moving. What Blaine hadn't planned for was the area being deserted enough that only his footsteps showed up, and this didn't occur to him until there was snow-quickly-changing-to-ice running down his face. Kurt was just a few feet away from him, one side of his face and a portion of his hair dripping wet.

"You're supposed to hide, you know?" Blaine asked, leaning down to scoop up another snowball, keeping a careful eye on his friend.

"Oh, I know. However, I believe that you have enough of an idea of self-preservation to _never_ get _now_ in my _hair_ _again_," Kurt said, his voice quietly dangerous. Blaine's next snowball hit him straight in the center of his chest (contrary to Kurt's belief, the tenor wasn't dumb enough to throw one directly in his face. He wanted to _live_ until Christmas, after all). "You. Are. Dead," Kurt said slowly, backing away and slipping behind a tree as Blaine did the same. It was _so_ on.

After about 30 minutes of snowballs flying everywhere, the trees around them were covered in clinging crystals, several large piles of snow had been knocked over by Blaine's inability to judge distance and his horrible peripheral vision, and both boys were drenched from head to toe with various stages of melting snow.

"At least you're wearing a better jacket," Blaine pointed out. Blaine had waved the white flag of defeat (or just given up, but that was a lot less dramatic of a saying), after Kurt had somehow managed to drop a snowball directly on the top of his head, soaking every inch of what was before his perfectly-gelled hair. "Is it still Gucci?"

"You know me so well," Kurt sighed, dropping to the ground, seemingly uncaring of the snow.

"We should make snow angels now!" Blaine decreed, dropping onto the snow beside him.

"You're never discouraged, are you?" When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt sighed. "Since my jacket, as well as the shirt and probably undershirt beneath it, is completely soaked, I suppose snow can do me no more harm."

"That's like saying 'what could go wrong?'" Blaine pointed out with a grin. Kurt didn't so much as react.

"How do you make a snow angel?" Kurt asked. Blaine turned his head (ignoring the fact that there was now dirty snow in all of his orifices) to gape at him. "What? I've never felt the desire to lay in the snow, even as a child."

"You, my friend, are deprived. It's a _snow angel_." Kurt's reaction was blank look. "You just do this." Blaine moved his arms and his legs as though trying to fly/swim, creating the perfect snow angel.

"You look ridiculous," Kurt commented, but copied him all the same.

"Now, the tricky part is getting off the ground without messing up the angel." Blaine had never been good at this. Carefully placing his hands below his snow wings, he pushed himself up, almost toppling back into his angel, leaving only the marks of his shoes on the work of art. "Aha!" he cried triumphantly, glancing over to see... Kurt walking towards where they had begun a snowman, his angel completely in tact.

"How did you do that?" Blaine asked, steamed. Kurt was clearly some sort of ninja, but Blaine would get revenge on him for this. No beginner should be able to make a perfect snow angel like that, even if the beginner seemed a little bit like an angel himself.

"Never underestimate a Cheerio," was Kurt's only response. "Do you want to build this thing or not?"

"Aye, aye, cap'n," Blaine said cheekily, carefully not stepping in Kurt's angel (he had some sense of self-preservation) as he ran over towards his best friend.

* * *

><p>"This is the only reason our adventures in the snow are worth it," Kurt declared, carefully picking a marshmallow off the top of his hot cocoa with his tongue. Blaine, he'd decided, made the most amazing hot cocoa on the entire planet, regardless of how annoyed he was with his friend that he'd need hours to dry out his Gucci Shearling-Trimmed Coat.<p>

"You had fun, and you know it," Blaine accused, dropping onto the couch next to him and making his hot cocoa dance precariously.

"Watch it!" Kurt didn't want to waste a single drop of this amazing liquid, and, if Blaine's smirk was anything to go by, it showed on his face.

"Relax. I has magic powers," Blaine grinned, knowing how much LOLCatz annoyed his friend. Sure enough, the glare Kurt gave him could cower a Hungarian Horntail.

"I hate you," Kurt declared, taking a sip of his hot cocoa and almost groaning at the taste.

"Would you hate me as much if," Blaine leaned over to grab something under the couch, almost sending his hot cocoa mug to the ground below and himself to his death for ruining a 300 dollar rug, "I happened to have a copy of _White Christmas_?" Blaine pulled out a DVD of the original movie and Kurt practically melted.

"How...?" Kurt couldn't form the question, but Blaine just smiled, almost... shyly? a vast contrast to his usual cheeky grins.

"It's one of my favorite Christmas movies. When you mentioned it as part of your family traditions, I almost exploded with happiness that I decided to pack it. I thought we could watch it, as... a nod to past Christmases." Kurt's heart went into a supernova at that moment. He had fallen, unconditionally and irrevocably (Kurt ignored the comparison that could, in theory, be made to Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen. They were simply the best adjectives he could think of at the moment, considering his brain was so melted he was surprised it wasn't leaking out of his ears), in love with his best friend.

"Of course." Kurt and Blaine both ignored how breathless Kurt's voice sounded. Blaine stood up, wisely placing his mug on the coffee table, to put the DVD in. Kurt grabbed a blanket from the cupboard, placing his mug far enough away from Blaine's that they wouldn't be able to mix them up, and sat back down. It wasn't until Blaine was sitting next to him and tugging the blanket over both of their laps (the two were sitting comfortably close, shoulders touching but thighs not) that Kurt realized it was an old blanket his mom had made, causing a smile to light up on his face.

"What?" Blaine asked, nudging his friend's shoulder.

"My mom made this blanket," Kurt said with a smile, running a hand over the familiar fabric.

"Oh, then we probably shouldn't-" Blaine went to move the blanket, probably in fear of the hot cocoa, and Kurt stopped him.

"This blanket has had more hot cocoa spilled on it then you would think possibly," Kurt appeased his friend, showing him the corner that he had spilled cocoa on on this very couch, so many years ago.

"Alright," Blaine said with a shrug, and the two cuddled in to watch the movie.

Somehow, over the course of the movie, Kurt's head had ended up on Blaine's shoulder, one of Blaine's arms wound around Kurt, so Blaine felt the single tear Kurt shed drop onto the skin bared by his t-shirt. "Kurt?" he asked hesitantly.

"I love this movie," Kurt whispered back as though afraid to break the still silence. Blaine thought for a moment that it was _incredibly_ nice to be devoid of Finn for the moment. He liked Kurt's step-brother, but he was _such_ a _loud_ creature!

"Me too," he whispered back.

"May your days be merry and bright-" Kurt said along with the end of the movie, a beautiful smile crossing his face.

"-and may all your Christmases be white," Blaine finished, smiling just as broadly.

They enjoyed a moment of quiet as the credits began to roll before... "Hey, dudes!" After the quiet of the last hour, Finn's loud greeting sounded like a shout, and Kurt and Blaine snapped away from each other like too-similar magnets.

"Hey, Finn," Kurt called back at a more subdued volume, and just like that the spell was broken.

* * *

><p>Finn was chattering away to a very bored and hurt looking Kurt when Blaine got out of the bathroom. As soon as they'd headed downstairs, Finn had followed like an eager puppy, talking about how much fun the club'd had at Mr. Schuester's. Kurt sighed but smiled, and allowed himself to be dragged onto Finn's bed to hear the whole story. Blaine allowed Kurt a moment of victory at the fact Finn didn't freak out having the counter tenor on his bed, before deciding that Finn's verboseness could be a weapon in their war for the blow-up bed.<p>

It wasn't that he wanted Kurt to feel emasculated, but he didn't want to be a burden to the taller boy. Plus, Kurt deserved to be treated like a prince at the very least in his own home, and Blaine could help with that. Blaine climbed quickly into the blow-up bed, and fell asleep to the smooth tone of Finn's endless flow of words.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: YAY! NEW CHAPTER! YAY! CHRISTMAS! Boo... almost nobody's reading Meet Blaine. This makes me very sad. Ignoring my sadliness, a new chapter of Meet Blaine should be up tonight, so, for anyone who was really annoyed with me for not posting sooner, read this, then go read all of that story, then don't be mad at me anymore! Updates might be slow, I have a serious case of going-back-to-school-itis.**

**No songs... not **_**one**_** song? I'm surprised at myself.**

**For anyone who's interested in Kurt's coats, the first one is the **Iconic Gucci KWAY Windbreaker, **and the second one is the **Gucci Shearling-Trimmed Coat. **Both can be found at Neiman Marcus . com in the Gucci section.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	13. Ho Ho Fucking Ho

**A/N:** **Hey guys! 100 REVIEWS! WHOOOP! Thanks you all so much :) When I saw the number there was flailing and shrieking involved. Also, their Christmas presents are really lame and cheesy, I'm aware, but they're the kind of inexpensive and cute Christmas presents you get a friend/crush in high school. Warnings: bad words. Cheesiness. I always forget a disclaimer, so I'm adding it here: I don't own Glee, and I never will. Read On.**

* * *

><p>Blaine woke up surrounded by the familiar smell of Kurt: sandalwood, designer perfume, and something distinctly original that was his natural smell. Trying to ignore how everything about the bed smelled like the counter tenor, Blaine rolled out... and thudded painfully to the floor. This was getting ridiculous. His overly dramatic and completely loveable best friend had <em>moved<em> him from the air mattress to the bed in his sleep (well, most likely he had asked Finn to) and was now sleeping peacefully on the blow-up bed.

Most accurately, he _had_ been sleeping peacefully. The moment Blaine hit the ground, with a loud thump, he might add, Kurt's head had jerked up and his eyes snapped open. "What tim izt?" As far as cuteness went, Sleepy Finn had nothing on Sleepy Kurt.

"Why am I in your bed?" It was one of those awkwardly-worded questions that made most people blush and stutter frantically, but Kurt would know what he meant.

"Because you're the guest, and we're both guys. By the way, Merry Christmas, cranky." Blaine's eyes lit up at the reminder, ignoring the glare he was getting from his very lethargic best friend.

Ignoring the pain in his (undoubtedly bruised) back, Blaine hopped off the floor like a kangaroo and raced over to his bag, muttering 'where is it?' under his breath.

"Blaine, you didn't have to..." Kurt's protest trailed off as Blaine pulled out a tissue-box-sized blue box topped with a simple white ribbon.

"Aha!" Blaine cried out in triumph. Hurrying over to the air mattress (war over sleeping places forgotten) before the little box could pull another Houdini, he plopped both himself and the box on the bed. "Open up!"

"Blaine, you _really_ didn't have to..." but it was useless to protest and Kurt knew that. "Thank you," he said with a genuine smile. "Yours is under the tree." Kurt untied the ribbon and opened the box (struggling with the tape and glaring at his best friend's chuckle. Blaine _so_ did that on purpose) to reveal two more boxes.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." Blaine chuckled, earning yet another glare from the overtired and feisty counter tenor.

"You are a horrible person," Kurt said, and regretted it immediately when he opened the first box. "My mom's perfume..." he murmured, turning the light gold glass bottle over in his hands.

"You mentioned how her dresser used to smell like it and it was fading. So I figured you might like another bottle," Blaine said softly.

"I... thank you," Kurt whispered, blinking away spare tears. Getting no response from his best friend, Kurt pulled the bow off of the second box. Inside was a delicately-woven bracelet of sea-blue and dark green with the word 'Courage' lazily stitched in white.

"I know friendship bracelets are very third grade, and you can't wear it at Dalton, but I just..." Blaine stopped talking because he really couldn't explain to Kurt why he wanted to counter tenor to always have a part of him near, at least not without putting some secrets out in the open.

"No," Kurt waved off Blaine's explanation, "it's perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Blaine responded this time, leaning forward to hug his best friend at the same time Kurt went to stand, causing Blaine to grab at Kurt's legs and the taller boy to fall flat on his butt, almost kicking Blaine in the face.

"Well, that worked out well," Kurt said sarcastically, carefully getting to his feet on the floor this time.

"Whoops!" Blaine exclaimed with a childish grin, making Kurt laugh loudly then glance over to check that they hadn't woken Finn.

"He really can sleep through an avalanche, can't he?" Kurt rolled his eyes at his step-brother.

"He just slept though a mini one," Blaine pointed out with a laugh.

"I'll be right back," Kurt promised. On his way to the door, the counter tenor smacked Finn upside the head to see if he woke. Garnering no reaction, Kurt huffed dramatically and walked up the stairs.

Chuckling at the antics of his best friend, Blaine got up from his seat on the air mattress (he refused to call it Kurt's bed) to check his phone. 123 texts and 24 missed calls from Charlie alone.

To: Charlie_  
>'Merry Christmas!'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'ur ded 2 me.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'i mised u 2. whatre u up 2?'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Mking a Xmas bonfire.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'Fun.'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Yep. Wes + David juned me, so w r burnin ur hair gel, bttle by bttle.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'CHARLIE!'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'thats what u get 4 ignring me. be grtful its not ur clthes.'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'ive ben busy!'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'Gttin it on with K?'<em>

To: Charlie_  
>'Charlie...'<em>

From: Charlie_  
>'if u 2 r stll friends, then u hve no exuse'<em>

"Earth to Blaine, come in Blaine." Blaine jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the counter tenor's voice. Kurt was sitting on his bed, smiling softly at the tenor, who had been so wrapped up in his phone that he hadn't noticed his return.

"Sorry, I wanted to say 'Merry Christmas' to a very irate Charlie." Hopefully, Charlie hadn't actually wrecked horrible vengeance on his bathroom, but Blaine wouldn't be at all surprised if he had.

"I don't think I've ever seen Charlie mad," Kurt said, with a look of horror on his face.

"And you never want to. That boy is capable of some horrible revenge. I'll tell you about it... later," Blaine commented, noting the box in Kurt's hand.

"Oh yeah," Kurt smiled softly. "Merry Christmas." Blaine took the immaculately-wrapped green present from Kurt and hastened to rip all of his careful wrapping off, hurriedly flipping open the white box underneath.

"You will never stop attempting to improve my fashion sense, will you?" Blaine said with a cheeky grin, picking the mostly-red scarf out of the box. The present was very much what he had expected of Kurt (or, rather, what he would have expected if he'd thought about it), stylish but not over the line into the ridiculous clothes only Kurt would wear in public (not that they weren't nice. Kurt always looked nice).

"Never. I will force you into style until the day you rid your poor bathroom and pillow of every bottle of hair gel you own," Kurt swore rather dramatically, and Blaine couldn't help but think of how alike he and Charlie were.

"I'm pretty sure Charlie has already taken care of that for you. Is hair gel flammable?" Kurt's expression in that moment was so priceless that if Blaine had a camera on him, he would treasure it forever.

"Hair gel is _extremely_ flammable. Google it." Guys had gone so far as to set their own hair, attached to their head, on _fire_ to prove it. Which, of course, was extremely dumb, yet slightly entertaining.

"Then Charlie's probably in the process of burning down his neighborhood as we speak." It probably, sadly, wouldn't be the first time Charlie had done something that dangerous.

"Then Charlie is officially my new favorite person," Kurt said with a slight grin. His smile grew brighter as Blaine dramatically groaned and clutched at his chest. "For the record, the scarf is the Buckeyes' colors. Breakfast?" he asked, pretending to ignore Blaine's reaction.

In typical boy form, Blaine forgot all of his mock-angst and jumped to his feet. "Absolutely!" It was then that Kurt noticed Blaine's sleep shirt and couldn't help but giggle. "What?"

"Nothing," Kurt tried to lie but the giggles gave him away. "Your shirt."

"You are a horrible, _horrible_ person. This is an _amazing_ shirt, and I wear it with pride!" Blaine flounced dramatically up the stairs, proudly showing off the back of his t-shirt as well. The white t-shirt had the word 'MUGGLE' in all caps with other words around it, and said on the back, 'I need Harry Potter like a Grindylow needs water.'

"You're such a dork!" Kurt yelled up the stairs before following his best friend to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"Merry Christmas, boys!" Burt called happily as he came down the stairs. Kurt and Blaine had given up on trying to wake Finn quite a while ago, and Carole had shooed them both away from the living room for 'last minute Christmas reasons.'<p>

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Kurt said at the same time Blaine said, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Hummel."

"Finn still snoring?" At Kurt's nod, Burt snorted. "That boy will sleep through his entire life I swear. Is Rachel coming over, or are those two off again?" It was sad, Blaine thought, when not even your parents could keep track of your relationship status.

"They're off again, shockingly. Besides, she's Jewish, remember?" Kurt didn't sound annoyed with his dad's lack of ability to remember. Then again, the only two girlfriends Finn had had were extremely Christian or extremely Jewish. Blaine could see how the two could get confused.

"Where's Carole?" Burt finally noticed his wife's absence.

"Living room. 'Last minute Christmas reasons.' Hot cocoa?" Kurt asked with a smile. "And yes, this is technically off your diet, but I'm willing to turn a blind eye for Christmas morning."

"Well, you're in a good mood." In contrast to what should be a happy statement, Burt's voice dropped into what was practically a growl and he looked suspiciously at his son, who didn't seem to notice.

"I am. Blaine and I just exchanged Christmas presents." Now Burt was glaring at Blaine, and Kurt finally caught on. "Not _that_ kind of Christmas present. Honestly." Blaine blushed a little and noticed that Kurt was flushed as well when he grabbed his mug and headed for the living room.

"What kind of Christmas presents?" A sleepy voice mumbled from the top of the stairs. Finn could occasionally have perfect timing. "There are kinds of different presents?"

"My father assumed I was making a poor euphemism that would eternally scar all children's minds," Kurt replied with a roll of his eyes, obviously maintaining his good mood.

"Oh. I love those kind of Christmas presents," Finn muttered, still sleepy. Ignoring the looks of horror and disgust from two occupants of the room, and a look of surprise from the other, he headed for the fridge.

"Pancakes?" Kurt asked, pointing to the plate that Finn had totally missed.

"Love Christmas." Finn was sleepily stumbling over to the pancakes when Carole reentered the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at her son's inability to function properly without over fourteen hours of sleep.

"All right boys! Presents for all are in the living room!" Considering how zombie-like his movements had been before, Blaine was shocked by Finn's sudden speed towards the living room.

"Finn! Finn! You are not allowed to rip all of your presents open at once!" Carole reprimanded her son, following him into the living room. Kurt, Blaine, and Burt followed with almost-identical looks of amusement.

Surely enough, Finn already had a majority of the floor covered in wrapping paper and was attempting to pull on a Ohio State Buckeyes Shirt over his pajamas. Once he succeeded, he grabbed another present, and started trying to tear it apart. This time, Carole grabbed it out of his hands before he could begin.

"Finnegan Christopher Hudson, that is _not_ your present." Kurt laughed at his step-brother's antics as he settled on the couch and motioned for Blaine to sit next to him. "This one's for you, sweetie." Carole held the present towards the couch. The present remained where in Carole's hand for over a minute before Blaine looked at Kurt, who glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"She's not talking to me, smarty." Blaine blinked, trying to process Kurt's words as his best friend continued to stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Carole, you really didn't have to-" Carole interrupted him before he could even get the words out.

"Oh, hush. It's Christmastime! You really thought there was nothing underneath this tree for you?" Blaine nodded and Carole laughed. "Nonsense." Turning away from Blaine, she looked over the now-messier floor (as Finn had continued his destruction while she was distracted). "Now, where's your present from Kurt?"

"I already gave it to him. I came up and stole it earlier this morning while you were having your coffee. _Somebody_ decided to wake me up extremely early on a Saturday, which was entirely unnecessary." Kurt glared at Blaine.

"I woke you up by falling out of the bed _you _moved me to in my sleep." Blaine glared at Kurt.

"You boys are so silly." Carole shoved the present into Blaine's hands before going back to the tree to grab more presents. Blaine carefully opened the present, trying not to draw the attention of Burt or the madman currently destroying presents left and right. "Finn! That's for Kurt!"

"Good, I don't even know what Neiman Marcus is. Is that a person?" At Finn's words, Kurt practically dove off of the couch, tackling his brother to the ground for the card in his hand, ignoring Finn's stunned expression and his father's laughter.

"Give me that!" Kurt snatched the gift certificate out of Finn's unresisting hands. "Carole! You shouldn't have! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank y-"

"No problem sweetheart. I figured they have most if not all of the designers you like, and it's not _quite_ as expensive as buying direct." Burt snorted, and Blaine resisted the urge to follow the trend. 'Not quite as expensive' didn't mean reasonably-priced.

"Thank you Carole," Blaine said quietly, loud enough to be heard by Carole. Unfortunately, the rest of the room (with the exception of Finn) turned towards him as well.

"There is a troubling obsession with the Buckeyes in this house," Kurt commented with a roll of his eyes, still clutching the Neiman Marcus gift certificate protectively to his chest. "Honestly, it's getting to be a little bit ridiculous."

"Says the one who bought me a scarf that coordinates with the Buckeyes colors," Blaine pointed out with a grin, and Kurt blushed slightly. "Oh, and _you're_ one to talk about having an obsession, Mr. Fashion!" Blaine snatched at the gift card in Kurt's hand and Kurt tripped over a stray present trying to backpedal, landing with an undignified 'oof!' "Smooth."

"_Do. Not. Touch. My. Neiman. Marcus. Gift. Card,_" Kurt said pointedly, picking himself up off the ground in an unusually graceful manner.

"My apologies, good sir," Blaine joked, making Kurt crack up with laughter.

"You goof." Joining in with his slightly insane and very immature brother in the present hunt on the ground, Burt looked over towards Kurt's father to see that Burt was watching him. Just the tiniest of nods was Burt's gesture to him before he looked back at his sons with a mixture of amusement and mock-shame.

"This is perfect for Rachel, Finn." Kurt was holding up a tacky Christmas box with a gold star necklace inside of it. "To be quite honest, as creepy as her obsession with and constant possession of gold stars is, they are truly the perfect sum of her personality."

"Kurt, give me that back." Finn had ditched the tearing apart of presents to try and snatch the box from his much-more-agile brother's hands.

"She'll love it, if and when you ever decide to give it to her." Having successfully secured the last word, Kurt handed Finn the box with a smile. "Now, I believe this is mine."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean my cousins are coming? How was I not warned of this?" Kurt looked absolutely furious, glaring at his guilty-looking father with intense venom.<p>

"Well, that was, uh, kind of the other thing I needed to talk to you about, kiddo. Y'know, after the winter concert thing?" Burt nervously readjusted his baseball cap multiple times under his son's stare.

"My cousins hate me, with a _passion_, and the feeling is _entirely_ mutual." Kurt rolled his eyes at the mention of his cousins before returning to the occupation of glaring at his father. Blaine just looked between the two with an equal measure of confusion and worry, echoing the look in Carole's eyes. Finn was simply doing his best to eat the entire coffee cake Kurt had made.

"Kurt, y'never know. Your cousins might have grown up in the last few months." Kurt's glare remained steely, adequately displaying his doubt of such a fact. "Kiddo, it's important that the family meets Carole, y'know that. Especially since next-to-none of them were at the wedding." Burt tried to wheedle his son's... not permission, Blaine supposed, but his forgiveness.

"None of them were at the wedding because you insisted in planning it in a matter of weeks, and I planned it, remembering to pointedly take them _off_ of the guest list whenever you added them." Kurt sounded completely unsympathetic.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, your cousins are coming for family dinner and that's final!" Burt didn't yell at his son (Blaine had a feeling Burt would _never_ yell at his son), but his tone was firm enough to get the point across and Kurt offered no more objections.

"I should get started on dinner than. How many are we having Burt?" Carole clearly hadn't seen it as her place to pacify either Burt or Kurt during the father-son fight, but now broke the awkward silence.

"Uncle Max, Aunt Mildred, Aunt Abbie, Charlotte, Chris, Matt, Luna, and Issy, plus us five. So, thirteen." Carole offered her husband a sunny smile before disappearing into the kitchen. "Kurt, I would tell you to dress nicely, but I'd be wasting by breath. Finn, dress nicely." With that, Burt disappeared into the living room, obviously hoping to find a Christmas game or _The Deadliest Catch_.

"I'm... not even gonna try to make up an excuse. I'm just leaving you two alone." Finn exited the kitchen, and Kurt slapped his hand against his forehead.

"Honestly, I do not know what to do with that boy sometimes." Kurt rolled his eyes. "At least Aunt Abbie is coming. Then I'll be the second-most-hated person at the dinner table, with you in third. Guess the pattern," Kurt commented sardonically, sitting in the chair across from Blaine's.

"Homophobic?" Blaine asked, half in sympathy, half in worry.

"And that's an understatement. It's going to be a _long_ evening." Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "I apologize for this. I would have hidden you at Mercedes' for the day if I had known they were coming. Scratch that, I would have hidden _us_ away at Mercedes' for the day... or the week, if I had known they were coming.

"Don't worry about it. You've made it through Christmas dinners before, I assume. Everything will be fine." Kurt snorted at Blaine's reassurances.

"Yeah, until they meet you. Then starts World War III."

* * *

><p>"Welcome to our humble abode. It's lovely to see you again, Abbie." Blaine had never heard Mr. Hummel sound so formal. The woman walking through the door had flaming red curls framing a face as porcelain as Kurt's, combined with the same piercingly blue eyes. Her outfit would have made Kurt proud too, had he not still been downstairs (supposedly 'perfecting his outfit,' realistically avoiding his cousins for as long as possible).<p>

His outfit was just as impressive, if completely out of his normal style. Seeing the nerves behind the bravado and annoyance mask, Blaine had allowed Kurt to dress him. While it was simpler than Kurt's normal taste, the jeans and... well, everything else in the outfit, was much tighter than the Dalton boy was used to. His face and hands were also well moisturized, as Kurt had insisted, but he had escaped the normal frights of a Kurt Hummel Makeover by pleading at his best friend's feet for mercy and making the countertenor giggle uncontrollably.

"Formal as always, Burt. Now, where's my favorite nephew, and who is this?" Her soft, lilting voice had a slight New York accent to it.

"Blaine Anderson, it's lovely to meet you, I've heard highly of you," Blaine's Dalton-bred manners automatically took over his mouth. The red-haired woman, obviously Kurt's Aunt Abbie, held out a hand and Blaine kissed it quickly.

"Well, you must have been talking to Kurt, because I'm sure Burt secretly loathes me," Abbie offered him a warm smile and twinkling eyes that reminded him of a mischievous Kurt.

"Yes, because I'm the one that hates _you_," Burt added from behind them. "Kurt Hummel, get your butt out of that basement, your aunt's here!"

"Which one?" Kurt's disembodied voice floated up the stairs, and Abbie grinned.

"Aunt Abbie," Burt's expression soured as he heard his son squeak, and the basement door frame started shaking as Kurt pounded up the stairs.

"Aunt Abbie!" Kurt practically tackled Abbie in a hug, and the red-haired woman's face lit up in a genuine smile as she hugged the overexcited boy back. "I haven't seen you in months!"

"What an unfortunate way to be reunited," Abbie said, not quite as excited as Kurt and still in that smooth tone with which she had addressed Burt, but laughing nonetheless. Kurt laughed along with her, still holding her to him like little kids cling to their parents' legs, before releasing her and turning to Blaine.

"Oh, Aunt Abbie, this is my friend Blaine. He goes to my new school," Kurt and his aunt made what most people would call 'significant eye contact,' clearly having to do with Kurt's 'new school,' as he put it.

"We've met," Abbie said, eying Blaine with quite a bit more warmth than she had originally. He clearly needed to learn to speak the language of Kurt's eyes (not that he'd mind spending quite a bit of time staring at them).

The doorbell rang and Kurt and his aunt groaned. "Kill me now," Kurt declared dramatically, flopping down on the couch next to Blaine and leaning... a _lot_ closer than he normally would. Huh. Aunt Abbie simply disappeared.

"Hey, Uncle Burty!" The girl that walked in was gorgeous, probably about Lila's age, all straight, long blonde hair, great legs, and another pair of Kurt's eyes. Apparently, they ran in the family. Burt seemed much happier to see this part of the family and hugged the blonde back.

"Hello, Charlotte. Hello, Chris," he directed to dark-haired, older boy with almost-black eyes who walked right past the hugging uncle and niece without a word. "Matt, it's lovely to see you," he added to a slightly-younger boy (probably around their age) with Kurt's eyes, who was clearly trying to imitate his older brother and didn't answer Burt but for a slight nod.

"Kurt," the older boy, Chris, nodded to his younger cousin respectfully, and Kurt nodded back, not moving an inch away from Blaine.

"Is there any reason you're trying to _encourage_ their homophobic opinions?" Blaine was ninety percent sure he had figured Kurt out. Of course, he wouldn't have concrete proof until Kurt introduced him.

"I'm trying to prevent them from being invited back," Kurt stated easily. "If you don't mind."

"This is a bad idea," Blaine whispered back, but tried his hardest not to jump as Kurt placed a hand on his knee. This was a _really_ bad idea.

"Kurtsie!" A young girl (three or four, Blaine would guess) jumped onto Kurt's lap, knowing his hand from Blaine's knee as she attacked him. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Luna-bear." Kurt hugged the young girl to him as a snotty-looking eleven-year-old girl, dressed to the nines in Tina's clothing and obviously trying to look cool, walked into the room, obviously-died black hair streaked with pink and green.

"Fag," was her way of greeting Kurt. "Luna, come here." The innocent little girl climbed off Kurt's lap and ran to her older sister (he assumed), making the countertenor frown at the older girl.

"Issy, what does that word mean? Fag?" The chilling slur sounded so wrong from the child's mouth.

"Luna, hun, never say that word, it's not nice." Kurt's voice was soft, and he was obviously affected by the slur from Luna's mouth as well. Blaine reached down to take his friend's hand, reveling in the disgusted look that garnered from Issy.

"Hello, Kurt, and... who is this?" The voice was very strained, and the tone was familiar. It was the same tone his mother used whenever he talked about boys, any boys, no matter how straight. The tone that was trying to fake civility. The voice came from a man who had entered the room unnoticed by the arguing children.

"This is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine, meet my Uncle Max and Aunt Mildred." The children clearly hadn't gotten their impeccable good looks from their mother. Their father, Max, was a strong, wide man, taller than ever Finn, with a tough jaw covered in stubble and a military looking face. Their mother was obviously older (suggesting that Luna, at the very least, was not biologically hers), lined face harsh and the smell of alcohol practically radiated from her skin.

"Nice to meet you," Max said in that same, strained tone, while Mildred offered nothing at all except a whispered slur under her breath.

"Alright, family, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Carole, and my new step-son, Finn." Burt broke the awkward tension between Kurt and... everyone, but Finn more than made up for it by the nerves on his face. "Carole, Finn, this is Uncle Max and Aunt Mildred, Charlotte, Chris, Issy, Luna, Matt, and Aunt Abbie."

Finn and Carole earned a respectful nod from Matt, an enthusiastic greeting from Issy and Charlotte (especially directed towards Finn), a once-over from Issy, who seemed to approve, and a handshake and small talk from the two adults. Chris had no reaction the two entering the room.

"Shall we sit down for dinner then?" Carole asked with the always-polite smile she used to diffuse tension.

"Carole's a wonderful cook," Kurt and Burt chorused, before looking at each other with identical mixes of amusement and embarrassment.

"Let's eat!" Uncle Max said with a grin, and it didn't sound nearly as forced as it had when he was talking to Blaine and Kurt.

* * *

><p>"This is wonderful, Carole." Charlotte seemed like a generally happy, sunny person. Blaine had immediately liked her once she had hugged Kurt and then hugged him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Which, of course, there was, but they didn't know that.<p>

Carole smiled at the sunny girl, leaning slightly over the table to meet her eyes past Kurt and Blaine. With Burt and Max at the heads of the table, Matt, Chris, Issy, and Aunt Mildred had taken over one side of the table, and Charlotte, Kurt, Blaine, Carole, Finn, and Aunt Abbie had taken over the other. Luna was originally sitting next to her mother, but was now happily resting on Charlotte's lap.

"Thank you, Charlotte." Finn, Burt, Max, and Matt had started up a football conversation, leaving Issy and her mother to glare unendingly at a seemingly unfazed Kurt, who was actually clutching Blaine's hand rather tightly under the table. Kurt, Blaine, Carole, and Charlotte had been having small talk until the food was served, and now the table had lapsed into awkward silence.

"So, Finn, do you play sports?" Aunt Mildred asked, mock-politely, still glaring at the countertenor who's knuckles were rapidly turning whiter.

"Uh, football, basketball, and baseball," Finn answered, awkwardly glancing at Kurt across the table. Blaine had to admire his poker face.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question itself was innocent, coming from an angel-faced Charlotte, but the rest of Kurt's family practically leaned forward in anticipation like something out of a sitcom.

"Not at the moment. I just broke up with this girl I'd been dating for a while." Finn's answer seemed to appease the family, especially Charlotte, who was probably interested in him.

"Interesting," was Aunt Mildred's reaction. "How long have you two been dating?" the woman quickly changed subjects.

"A little over a month," Kurt lied smoothly.

"So I see you still haven't returned to the church." Blaine had to bite back a whimper of pain as Kurt squeezed his hand almost to the breaking point... literally.

"In case you forgot, Mrs. Amwhyne, I was asked to leave." Blaine didn't hold back his surprise, looking at Kurt for the first time, who still had on his perfect poker face.

"If you repented your sins, you would be allowed to return." Burt's face tightened at this point, but he didn't say anything. Carole looked concerned, Issy looked satisfied, and Charlotte and Finn both looked annoyed.

"Mom, knock it off." The quiet order came from Chris, who had been silent up to this point. Clearly, Chris was master of the house, because Mildred silenced.

"So, Kurt, how's your Glee club?" Matt asked, probably eager to pick up where his brother had left off.

"Fine. I transferred schools, unfortunately, but my new Glee club is just as... interesting as my old one, I suppose, and they are both going to Regionals this March." The hatred in this family seemed to be in the adults, and the Issy, who was clearly trying to break the 'middle child rut' and seem cool.

"Cool! I can sing," Matt exclaimed eagerly, and Chris gave him a sideways smile. Huh. Perhaps there was a little more friendship there than hero worship.

"If I ever hear you sing a show tune, I am disowning you," Mildred said coldly, and the rest of the table looked at her in shock.

"Uh, I sing show tunes all the time," Finn tried to add helpfully.

"Faggot," Issy interjected coldly, earning a proud smile from her mother.

"What's up your ass?" Chris exclaimed, standing up and slamming his hand on the table. "Iz, stop trying to be cool, you're just acting like a bitch. Mom, what the fuck is wrong with you? At least Dad _tries_ to be nice. Fuck off Kurt, he's a pretty cool dude." The older boy stormed away from the table, quickly followed by his little brother. Mildred did nothing but stare after her sons in shock, and Abbie smirked.

"He taught you," Abbie added, running her hand through one of her ginger locks in a move too reminiscent of Santana for comfort. "Maybe you'll finally learn. Burt, hun, I have places to be, and hot chicks to party with," Abbie smirked at Mildred as she said this. "Goodbye Charlotte, Carole, Finn, sweetheart," she hugged Kurt from behind, her hair falling around his face as she kissed him on the forehead, "Blaine... good luck. Tell Chris I'm glad he taught his mum a lesson, but try not to use that kind of language around Luna-bear." Abbie left, probably just for dramatic effect.

"I'm going to go find Matt and Chris," Burt offered, quickly departing, and leaving his half-eaten dinner to get cold.

"Told you this wasn't going to go well," Charlotte said to her father, rolling her eyes. "This never goes well. I don't even see why we bring her out in public," she pointed to her mother in disgust. Mildred was still shell-shocked, mouth gaping open to reveal yellowed teeth.

"Charlotte, be respectful to your mother." Max seemed disappointed too, though he would never show it. "Carole, Finn, Blaine, _Kurt_, I am terribly sorry. I believe we have overstayed our welcome."

"You think?" Charlotte said with another roll of her eyes, clearly speaking Kurt's mind. "Can we go gather my brothers now?"

"Issy, Luna, Mildred, we're leaving. Issy, bring your mother back to her senses. Charlotte, grab Luna. I'll go find my sons." Max left the room as Charlotte grabbed Luna.

"I'm terribly sorry about this, Kurt, but we all knew it was coming." Flipping her gorgeous blonde hair over her shoulder, Charlotte leaned down to hug her cousin, little sister still in her arms. "Blaine, it was really nice to meet you. I hope you don't think we're all crazy and horrible now."

"You seem lovely, your brothers, your father, this little darling right here," Blaine leaned over to tickle Luna's stomach, leaning over his 'boyfriend' in the process.

"You two make a really cute couple by the way." The two Dalton boys looked at each other awkwardly as Charlotte pulled impatiently at her mother's arm, leading her out of the room and being followed by her severely-subdued little sister.

"I'm also really sorry about that, but you all know I was baiting it," Kurt half-apologized, and while Carole and Blaine nodded, Finn looked confused.

"What?" Kurt rolled his eyes at his brother's obliviousness.

"Blaine and I were faking dating to make her snap. We... well, _I _was trying to get rid of her," Kurt explained, his voice patient.

"Really? I thought both of you had just gotten your heads out of your asses," Finn looked even more confused, and Kurt rolled his eyes this time.

"Blaine and I are not dating. I, for one, think it is time for Christmas movies."

* * *

><p>In the end, they ended up watching <em>The Grinch Stole Christmas<em> and _Room 33_ once Burt and Carole had gone to bed. Finn was passed out in his bed almost minutes after they went downstairs, and Kurt and Blaine were getting ready side-by-side. There was silence, but it was perfectly comfortable, occasionally broken by Kurt asking for a product on the opposite side of the bathroom counter.

"Honestly, everyone makes fun of me for having an obsession with my hair," Blaine finally started a conversation, staring at the ridiculous amount of hair product bottles.

"You do have a ridiculous obsession with your hair. As do I, but mine doesn't look like it's glued to my head," Kurt replied without blinking, applying some sort of nasty-smelling liquid to his face.

"Cold." Kurt offered no counter. "So, about church-"

"Blaine. I don't believe in God. Conversation over." Kurt had a remarkable ability to cut the air with a statement.

"You used to go to Church, but you got kicked out?" Blaine asked, completely ignoring his best friend's statement, regarding it as more of a suggestion. Judging by the look Kurt was giving him in the mirror, this view was not appreciated.

"My mother was religious, and, as a child who aspired to have her completely wrapped around my finger, I attended church every Sunday that she was alive. After she died, our priest pulled us aside to express his sympathies for my mother's death. A week later, we received a letter from the church asking us to withdraw from their services because they couldn't condone the sins I was committing. I didn't see my father for twelve hours after. When I next did, he was watching the letter burn. Aunt Mildred finds this story particularly satisfying to bring up." Kurt spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact tone, but Blaine could feel the sadness and anger brewing behind his calm mask.

"I can't imagine... being that cold-hearted to a six-year-old." Kurt smiled at that, for some odd reason.

"That's because you're one of the nicest people I have ever met, no matter how annoying I find you ninety percent of the time." Blaine pressed a quick kiss to his friend's cheek on impulse, noting how Kurt flushed.

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"'Night, babe," Kurt mocked their earlier trick, giving Blaine a saucy wink and purposely strutting out of the bathroom, making his friend double over with laughter at the sink and try really hard not to think too hard about what had just happened.

It wasn't until he got out of the bathroom that he realized Kurt had planned this to steal the air mattress.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Every single person reading this story hates me, and I understand that. However, chapters should be coming a lot faster, now that I've settled into school, my internet is back up (at the moment), my roommate's back from the hospital, and the insanely difficult program I've been toying with for months is completed and submitted. So, I apologize about the updates.**

**Flangst. Yep. I writes it. I couldn't just give you guys mindless fluff, that's not how I roll, and you all know that. Kurt's family was fun to make up, and I love the idea of all of them having those amazing eyes. I don't know why. I just do. So now they all have those eyes.**

**Friendship bracelets: **_http:/ img0. etsystatic .com /il_fullxfull .69805912. jpg**  
><strong>_**Blaine's shirt is based on these: **_http:/ skreened .com/ schlongbottom /i-need-harry-potter & http:/ www. hottopic .com /hottopic/ PopCulture/ EverythingElse /Movies/ Harry-Potter-And-The-Deathly-Hallows-Muggle-TShirt-124512. jsp_**  
>The perfume Blaine gives Kurt: <strong>_http:/ www. sephora .com /browse /product. jhtml?id= P226914  
><em>**The Buckeyes stuff is off the Ohio State website. Y'all can find that on your own.  
><strong>

**Reviews are Love :)  
><strong>


	14. Awkward Goodbyes and Welcome Backs

**A/N: Short, filler chapter ahoy! Sorry for the super long wait. Finals = madness. Christmas break = updates. BE HAPPY!**

**So, I kind of went through this story to keep my continuity and got really annoyed writing it as I watched my writing style change and Galinda and Elphaba disappear and reappear, and all the mistakes I had made, and all the things I wished I had added, and... you get the point. So, I did something special for you guys, as a Christmas gift to you all. I went through, exported all the chapters and **_**completely revamped this story!**_** Now, you don't **_**have**_** to reread it for anything to make sense, but it would probably be funner for you guys if you did. Trust me. It's better.**

**Read on.**

* * *

><p>"The best thing I can say about Christmas dinner is that we survived," Blaine said, chuckling slightly, moving his phone from one shoulder to the other as he dug through his bag for his magically-disappeared hair gel.<p>

Charlie laughed too. "Was it really that bad?"

"You have no idea. A five-year-old girl slurred. If that's not a sign that a family's screwed-up, I don't know what is." Blaine had managed to appease a still-angry Charlie by swearing up and down that every moment he spent not-texting him he was with Kurt. This seemed to please his friend, who had been raving about his stuck-up and boring parents for the better part of an hour.

"And this, of course, doesn't change your views of Kurt at all. You still _love_ him," Charlie teased, and Blaine could almost see the maniacal grin than accompanied that statement.

"Would you shut up? For the last time, that's not... entirely true." Blaine regretted his slight edit when he heard Charlie wolf-whistle.

"Ha! So you finally admit you're at least somewhat head-over-heels for him!" Charlie exclaimed triumphantly, and Blaine heard a dull thump, knowing his best friend had fell back against the bed.

"Is now really the best time to be talking about this?" Blaine said with a roll of his eyes.

"Looking for something?" Kurt asked from the stairs, smirking mischievously.

"Just my hair gel," he answered to Kurt.

"Did he hide it on you?" Charlie asked, "because I'd be pretty impressed if he did."

"Huh, I have no idea where it went!" Kurt's expression was a little _too_ innocent.

"That's a good question," Blaine answered into the phone. "Did you hide it from me?"

"Maybe," Kurt said with a little smile.

"Yes," Charlie answered from the phone. "Honestly, you two are perfect together. You couldn't have chosen someone more amazing."

"You don't think I know that," Blaine snapped into the phone.

"Well, someone's a little uptight. Honestly, here I was, thinking you'd gotten less touchy and angst-y over him. Turns out, not a chance." Blaine just sighed in frustration.

"You could be a little nicer to... whomever you're on the phone with." Kurt's admonishment was kind of ruined.

"Charlie," he answered. Kurt laughed.

"Yes?" Charlie said.

"I was talking to Kurt," he explained.

"It can't be that bad, can it?" the countertenor in question asked.

"About how much you want to have sex with him?" Charlie asked with a cackle.

"No!" Blaine exclaimed over the phone.

"Jeez, you didn't have to react so vehemently!" Kurt teased.

"So, you don't want to have sex with him. 'Cause if you don't, I might." Blaine's inner jealousy reared at the thought.

"Don't even think about it," Blaine said, low and deadly.

"Don't think about what?" Kurt asked as Charlie laughed in his ear.

"Oh my goodness! I can't hold two conversations at once!" Blaine finally gave up. Trying to talk to two over-excited, bright-eyed, almost-too-gay-to-function Warblers at once was far too taxing for his poor, recently-awoken brain.

For once, the two made it easy for him. "Clearly," they said in sync.

"Breakfast is in five, so I would hurry up and find your hair gel." Kurt smirked again before flouncing back up the stairs, far, _far_ too happy at seven in the morning. Blaine sighed in relief, turning back to his conversation with Charlie, only to hear a faint, continuous buzz.

Charlie had hung up on him. Of course.

* * *

><p>If Blaine hadn't taken the time to call Charlie and consider showering (which he hadn't managed to accomplish) before breakfast, he would have made some idiotic comment such as 'you guys don't go to Church, do you?' Thankfully, he had, and remained completely poised when he saw the Hudmel clan gathered for breakfast.<p>

"You guys don't do anything half-way, do you?" Blaine asked, seeing the insanely-amazing looking spread of food across the table. Carole and Kurt (the only cooks in the house) had made enough food to feed a small army. There was bacon, sausage, ham (all of which he was sure Burt wasn't allowed to touch), waffles, pancakes, eggs (served in all different ways), fruit, hash browns, home fries, toast, casseroles, and what even looked like homemade donuts.

"Thawh i sab," Finn answered, mouth crammed full of food.

"Finnegan answered: 'that's what I said', in case you were wondering. Finn, chew, _then_ speak," Kurt said, fondly rather than testily, with a roll of his eyes.

"We wanted to have a fun family breakfast, and we figured now would be the best time, considering it's your last day here," Carole said warmly. "Aren't your parents and siblings coming home tomorrow?"

"Just my parents that I know of, but yes. Thank you, Carole," Blaine said politely, taking a seat next to Kurt, who was still lecturing Finn on proper eating habits.

"Oh, honey, don't thank me. Kurt's the true cook in this house, as jealous as his talents make me." Kurt waved off the praise.

"You can thank me by teaching your son how to eat properly." Carole burst out laughing.

"Sweetheart, I've been trying to do that for years. You'd be my savior if you made any progress at all." Finn rolled his eyes, a habit Blaine would bet he picked up from Kurt.

"ou eyes ur o ude uome," was Finn's very elegant and articulate answer, mouthful of bacon and what looked like cheese on proud display to the other occupants of the table. Kurt turned away in disgust, and Carole just sighed as though she were under a heavy burden.

"Finn, didn't Kurt _just_ remind you to finish your mouthful before speaking." Finn shrugged, swallowing his half-chewed food in one gulp.

"You guys are so rude to me," he repeated, actually discernibly this time.

"You're one to talk about being rude," Kurt answered, daintily dabbing off the syrup at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, as if to make a point.

"Says the one who told Quinn to go stuff her attitude up her watermelon-sized.. um, ya'know." Kurt flushed a fantastic red at the reminder, and Carole looked at him shocked.

"She insulted my girl! It was _so_ on." Kurt seemed remorseless, continuing to eat his small plate of food, which contained about half the amount of food that everyone else at the table was eating.

"You need to eat something, kiddo. Remember what the doctor said." Kurt waved off his reminder with a flap of his hand.

"That was not a doctor. That was a _nurse_, and I am perfectly healthy. Speaking of eating, remove the bacon from your plate right now. You can have one of the homemade donuts, but no bacon, ham, or sausage for you." Burt grumbled at being caught, and Carole rolled her eyes at the two.

"My boys. What to do with you all!" Carole smiled widely at the four of them, and Blaine realized that she was including him in 'her boys'. He smiled back at her. "Honestly, sweetheart, do you eat like that at Dalton?"

Kurt answered "No" at the same time Blaine cut in with a "yes" and Kurt gave him a betrayed look. "What! You do," Blaine objected.

"Yes, but you're not supposed to tell _them_ that," Kurt said, still using a hurt expression, before turning to his dad with a sheepish shrug. A stern look was his father's only response.

"So, honey, when are you leaving? Not that we're eager to get rid of you, of course, you have more manners than my own son, but Burt and Finn were hoping to get you to his football game today." Finn made an indignant sound, mouth once again full, this time of a donut (yes, an_ entire_ donut), but Carole ignored him in favor of smiling warmly at Blaine.

"I should be off any time now, actually. My parents' plane gets in at eight thirty this morning." Blaine shrugged as if apologetically, but honestly, the idea of going to anything with any members of Kurt's family sans Kurt was quite nerve-wracking.

"Oh, before you go, could you give me an idea of what I need to pack for Dalton?" Kurt asked, and the whole table turned to him in surprise.

"So, that's what you've decided, huh?" Burt asked, and he sounded more resigned than upset. "I'll call your school." Kurt gave his dad a million-watt smile, before turning back to Blaine for his answer.

"Yeah, sure," he answered, still a bit surprised. "That's the only good thing about uniforms, you don't need to pack much."

* * *

><p>"...and probably just a few personal items, pictures, etc. Since you won't be home as much, it'll be nice to be reminded of your friends," Blaine finished his speech. Kurt was scribbling down things as Blaine talked, and the tenor wondered if he was even listening to him. "Kurt?"<p>

"Oh, yeah, pictures, thanks." Kurt scribbled down one last thing. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Yep. I didn't unpack much." The two just awkwardly looked at each other. They had been hovering by the door as Blaine told Kurt what he'd need, visualizing his dorm in his head. Blaine had already said his goodbyes to the Hudmels: a nod from Burt and Finn and an enthusiastic hug from Carole. He even had his coat on. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to say goodbye to his friend yet.

"Well, this was nice," Kurt broke the awkward silence. "It was fun, having you here, making snowmen, everything really. Even if you ruined my Gucci coat," Kurt sniffed, and sounded a little more like himself then.

"Like you don't have a hundred," Blaine shot back with a smile at the familiar banter. "Thanks for inviting me. Christmas in the Dalton dorms with annoyed teachers angry that I was the student who took away a part of their Christmas vacation so I could have supervision wouldn't have been nearly as fun." Kurt grinned. Technically, Dalton had to be available to students through the entire year, including Christmas (yes, like Hogwarts) and summer, but the teachers weren't happy about that.

"Well, I'm glad Mrs. Girouard wasn't the one you watched _White Christmas_ with." Blaine laughed at that, and leaned forward to hug his best friend, breaking the still-there tension.

"Thank you," he said, wrapping his arms around his best friend. Kurt returned the hug quickly and they stood there in their comfortable embrace for a minute or two before Blaine released him. "I'll see you on Tuesday, then?"

"Yeah." Kurt rolled his eyes, not exactly excited to be going back to school. "Maybe I'll even be your roommate by then." Both boys grinned at the idea. "Bye, Blaine."

"Bye, Kurt," Blaine replied, and they both walked his bags out to his truck. Kurt couldn't resist letting his eyes follow Blaine's car down the street.

* * *

><p>So much packing. That was pretty much the sum of the next week for Kurt. Packing up the house to move, packing the boxes into the moving truck, then unpacking every single box from the truck and moving the contents into the new house.<p>

Kurt's room was significantly smaller, but his dad said he could live without the basement considering he would be sleeping at Dalton most of the time. The basement wasn't finished anyway. However, he _did_ have a built-in bathroom and wired stereo system with wall speakers. He wasn't complaining.

The house was actually pretty nice. Four bedrooms (the master, Kurt's, Finn's, and a guest room), three and a half baths (one in the hall, one in the master, one in Kurt's room, and the 'half' downstairs for guests), and a spacious backyard with a pool. The kitchen was a nice size, and, well... there really wasn't anything for him to criticize. Looking over the house, it was the first time Kurt thought they could really make this work.

His outlook got considerably less bright when _he_ had to carry all of his boxes in.

Even more packing followed. His dad insisted that he move his stuff to Dalton in _bags_, not boxes, so Kurt had to unpack all of his stuff, get his room set up, and then _re-pack_ his bags for Dalton. He was considerably unimpressed.

He also had to help Finn unpack, because the boy was apparently absolutely hopeless. Kurt took the liberty of setting up his room (thankfully, not cowboy wallpaper), barely able to make it passable with the decorations Finn had gotten.

By the time they were all set to move him to Dalton, Kurt was _extremely_ sick of packing.

* * *

><p>"Well, Mr. Hummel, we're very happy to have you board. It provides you a chance to advance your education by giving you longer to study, surely brings down your gas bills, and, hopefully, will allow you to expand your social horizons as well," Headmaster Fournier smiled at Kurt.<p>

"Expand my social horizons?" Kurt repeated, confused.

"The Warblers aren't the only boys in this school. You would do well to meet a few others. I happen to know that quite a few others would like meet you." Kurt's eyes bugged out slightly. Guys were... interested in him? Non-Blaine guys? "Don't look so surprised. You're a charming, witty, talented young man, and this is possibly the most accepting school in Ohio. Just... take it into consideration." Was this guy the headmaster or guidance counselor?

"I will, sir." Not that he actually would, of course. Hello, he had a gorgeous blond boy with amazing abs practically on a silver platter and he was still hopelessly crushing on his best friend. Obviously, he had a problem.

"Now, as for your room assignment. I assume that, as a Warbler, you would be most comfortable in Stevenson?" It sounded like an honest question, not one of those half-questions adults asked when you didn't really have a choice.

"Yes, I would prefer to live in Stevenson. Also... if it was possible... could I... room with Blaine?" Headmaster Fournier's eyebrows raised farther and farther at every pause.

"Are you sure that's the best idea? Ignoring, of course, the fact that Blaine requested to transform his room into a single early last semester. We were planning to upgrade it early this semester, but I'm sure Blaine would immediately withdraw the idea upon hearing your request." What was that supposed to mean?

"I don't understand what you are implying," Kurt said honestly. Well, he did, but he didn't understand why it was any concern of the headmaster's if rooming with Blaine would be the ultimate torture.

"Did you know that Dalton has a rule against students rooming together when they're in a committed relationship? Many colleges have the same rule." Headmaster Fournier templed his fingers and smiled secretly. Kurt had the fleeting thought that he looked like Albus Dumbledore. He had been hanging out with Blaine too much.

"Well, that's rather interesting, but irrelevant," Kurt said dryly. Headmaster Fournier, he was learning, rather liked students that had character, rather then those who were too afraid of him to be anything but ridiculously formal.

"There is another option." Isn't that what someone's supposed to say when they give you a bad option?"A student from Fort Shawnee is transferring, and due to his timing, the only available dorm is Stevenson. Whether he is to be a Warbler or not is yet to be determined. However, he could be your roommate." Fort Shawnee was about fifteen minutes from Lima, but there was still no way Kurt would know the student.

"Headmaster Fournier, why do you think it's a bad idea for Blaine and I to room together?" Kurt asked, ignoring the fact that he sounded like a small child.

"I don't think it's a bad idea, per se. As blind as a teenager may be, _I_ see the way that boy looks at you." Before Kurt could formulate a response, Headmaster Fournier turned to his computer. "You will be rooming with Christopher Barbon." And that, Kurt knew, was final.

* * *

><p>"Hey, I'm Chris Barbon," his roommate introduced himself. Black hair, carefully arranged to look mess, light skin, but not as light as Kurt's, and dark, piercing blue eyes, he was <em>gorgeous<em>. Chris was probably about six feet tall and had an athlete's build. "Please don't make jokes out of my last name."

"What jokes can you make about 'Barbon'?" Kurt asked, placing a few of his bags on his bed. Finn would start bringing up the rest soon.

"It's very close in letters with hard-on," Chris said with a sigh, and Kurt laughed. "And you?"

"Kurt Hummel, resident fashionista," Kurt introduced himself with a smile.

"Are you a... it starts with a 'w'..." Kurt smiled.

"Warbler," he supplied. "And yes, I am."

"Is everyone in this dorm a singer?" Chris asked, exasperated.

"Yes, this is actually the Warbler dorm. Unless you're a singer, you'll probably live in a different dorm next year," Kurt explained patiently. He knew how difficult it was to get into the swing of things at Dalton.

"Welcome back, Kurt! I was... you're a new face at Dalton," Blaine entered the room without knocking, staring at his new roommate.

"Chris Barbon, and please don't make fun of my last name," Chris introduced himself.

"Blaine Anderson, and I make no promises," Blaine grinned. "Anyway, did you need help moving anything in Kurt?" Blaine turned to his favorite countertenor with a smile.

"That's what I have a brother for, isn't it?" Kurt said with a smirk. Blaine just laughed.

"In that case, we have a Warblers' meeting in the main living room in 5... 4... 3... 2... Right now!" Blaine gave him a big grin before darting out the door.

"Well, he's... enthusiastic," Chris said hesitantly and Kurt laughed. There wasn't a better adjective for Blaine. "Almost annoyingly so. Is he your boyfriend?" Chris kept his face blank, whether on purpose or because he didn't care, Kurt couldn't tell.

"No," Kurt answered sharply.

"Hey, I don't judge." Chris sounded almost hurt that Kurt had jumped to the wrong conclusion, and he remembered that this boy agreed to go to Dalton knowing what it was like.

"That's not a 'no' as in I'm mad at you. That's a 'no' as in I'm mad that the answer is no." Just then, Finn struggled through the door, almost buried under the mountain of bags he was carrying.

"Dude, have you ever heard of _laundry_?" he asked, out of breath, plopping five out of Kurt's eight bags on the bed.

"Well, we all know you haven't," Kurt responded to his brother's whining automatically. "What have I said about calling me 'dude'?"

"Come on, you didn't even carry anything yourself!" Finn said, sitting on Kurt's new bed to catch his breath. Chris had already claimed his side of the room, not that Kurt minded, so at least Finn knew where to put the bags.

"Do you see the two bags you didn't carry up? Who did? The dwarf inside the magic teapot floating around the dark side of the moon that reads romance novels and shoots lighting out of its boobs?" Finn laughed at the memory, as morbid as the time had been, and Chris looked at the two like they were crazy. They probably were. "It's a long story." Kurt turned back to his brother. "Can you tell Dad and Carole that I'm sorry, but I have to go to a Warblers' meeting, and to pretty please with a cherry on top wait for me?"

"Kurt, they're going to wait for you even if you don't want them to," Finn said with a nod, and Kurt grinned before rushing down the hall and stairs to the main living room.

"Well, that was pointless," Kurt said, flopping onto his now-made bed twenty minutes later. "All Wes wanted to do was welcome us back and remind us how important Regionals was. Only our loveable, gavel-crazy idiot would make those simple points take twenty minutes."

"Yeah, your friends seem a bit..." Finn trailed off.

"Crazy?" Kurt supplied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah. Wasn't Wes the one who made the mink-organ stew?" The family turned to see Chris choking on the water he had just sipped at Finn's question.

"Knock it off, Finn, you're scaring my roommate. Are you okay, Chris?" The older boy nodded, coughing.

"Well, your... unique Warbler bunch aside, we're sure gonna miss you, kiddo," his dad said, frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I'll miss you guys too," Kurt said, standing up, "and I hate to rush you guys off, but it's almost dinner time." They had decided to arrive the last day of break (as had most of the campus), so they were still on vacation schedule.

"All right. I love you, bud." His dad grabbed him in a tight hug, almost squeezing the air out of him, but Kurt returned it, knowing how much he would miss his dad. Carole hugged him too, and Finn tried to give him a little wave, but he tackled the jock with a hug anyway. Finn returned it, and picked him up to swing him around like he would a little sister.

"Get thee gone! All of you," Kurt said, but he blew Carole a kiss back as the three headed down the hallway. He walked back into his room, sat on his bed, and groaned at the prospect of unpacking his bags. Honestly, he'd done _far_ too much packing, unpacking, and re-packing lately.

"So..." Chris said awkwardly, sitting on his bed.

"Hi," Kurt said the first thing that popped into his head and his new roommate chuckled.

"Hey." A pause. "Is it really almost time for dinner?" Boys and their food.

"I think so, yes." More awkward silence.

"So, where ya from?"

"Lima. You?" Kurt asked to be polite, it would seem creepy if he already knew (even though he did).

"Fort Shawnee."

"I see." Even more awkward silence.

"Hey there, lads!" Blaine bounced into the room, followed quickly by an annoyed looking Charlie.

"Here I was, being mad at him for not talking to me over break. Only too late do I realize it was actually a nice break _from him_," Charlie said dramatically, plopping next to Kurt on his bed with no hesitation. "Shalom," he greeted Chris.

"Charlie, this is my roommate Chris Barbon. Chris, I'm sorry to introduce you to Charlie Shields," Kurt introduced the two quickly.

"Chris Hard-on," Charlie said, and cracked up.

"Just what I was trying to avoid," Chris said with a roll of his eyes.

"Charlie's perpetually irritating," Blaine piped up. "I apologize."

"Are you single?" Charlie asked Chris out of the blue, his laughter stopping suddenly as he sat up on Kurt's bed.

"I'm straight," Chris answered immediately.

"Drat it!" Charlie flopped back down.

"I apologize for his existence, I really do," Blaine said solemnly, but then the energy returned. "Come on! It's supper time! _Come one, come on, it's_ _suppertime, suppertime_..." he sang creepily.

"Eight days was not long enough to have been away from you," Kurt said, not really on a short temper, but acting more controlled around his best friend back at school.

"Which is Kurt's way of saying that he loves me and wants to be with me for ever and ever!" Blaine declared dramatically before running across the hall to greet someone else.

"He wasn't far off the mark," Charlie added in the silence, and Kurt hit him with a pillow.

"Are you guys always like this?" Chris asked, staring after Blaine.

"Yes," the two answered, grinning.

"Great."

* * *

><p>Chris had probably gotten a million "Welcome to Dalton"s by the time they reached the commons, but he didn't seem annoyed at all. "They're all so friendly," he commented as if in awe.<p>

"Trust me, it gets irritating. Just be glad they don't all know your name and who you are and give you random hugs and high-fives. That's what happened on _my_ first day." Kurt rolled his eyes at the memory of the overly-enthusiastic Warblers.

"I already told you Blainey was to blame for that," Charlie piped up from behind them, still following the two. Kurt didn't even bother to respond.

"What do they have to eat here?" Chris asked, and Kurt was kind of looking forward to being his Dalton mentor, if they could ever get rid of Charlie that is.

"Just about everything you can think of. There's always pizza, a salad bar, Italian sandwiches, a dessert bar, grilled cheese, spaghetti, a bunch of things, and there's usually a daily special in both dinner and desert, like Crème Brûlée and Fettuccini Alfredo is today." Kurt went right for the salad bar and Chris followed dutifully. "The Warblers all sit by the stage, and that's where I've always hung out, so I don't really have a cafeteria map for you a la _Mean Girls_."

"Do you think the guys would be cool if I joined you there?" Kurt nodded in response to Chris' question.

"Of course. Charlie isn't actually a Warbler, but he's hung around them so much he became an honorary one."

"That sounds cool," Chris said, looking around with a rather over-whelmed expression.

"Yes, but I warn you, Wes _will_ make you sing if you're any good. He made Charlie sing at our Christmas Showcase." Kurt laughed as Chris shuddered.

"Don't worry. I suck." They both laughed at his frank honesty.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Kurt assured his roommate. "Do you have your classes?"

"They promised I'd have them tomorrow, said something about shadowing someone tomorrow anyway?" Chris sounded a little lost.

"For everyone's first day, you follow someone around to get a feel for how the school works without having to navigate it by yourself. Trust me, your second day will be the most confusing and chaotic by far. The usual people in the Warblers to shadow are Blaine and Thad, but you could shadow me if you wanted to." Chris let out a relieved sigh.

"That would be awesome. So... what's a guy got to do to get a chick around here?" Chris asked, sounding more confident.

"Usually go up to our sister school, but I am certainly the wrong person to ask about that." Kurt and Chris went up to Mrs. Girouard to pay. "He's on me." The teacher nodded and hurried the two of them out of the way.

"Kurt..." Chris went to protest.

"First day tradition, I insist. Don't worry, I'm _not_ hitting on you," Kurt rolled his eyes as the two headed towards the Warbler area.

"I wasn't worried. You like that Blaine guy." It wasn't a question.

"Am I really that obvious?" Kurt asked with a sigh.

"Well, why else would you put up with him?" Kurt laughed at that one, taking a seat next to Blaine and shoving Wes over to make room for Chris.

It was by far the best dinner he'd ever had at Dalton, and it had nothing to do with his rather bland Fettuccini Alfredo.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've kind of been plotting Kurt's roommate since I first mentioned boarding. Chris is a person you **_**all**_** will learn to love. I know it. So, go on, do a read through of this story (and stop by Meet Blaine if you feel like it. Next chapter is over 10,000 words!). I'm sorry for the wait, but everything sould be better soon.**

**OH! AND CHEERS FOR MY SPANISH TRANSLATOR! That's right. I gave you guys **_**another**_** Christmas gift (aren't I nice?) and got a spanish translator, so you spanish-speaking lads and lasses will stop thinking homicidal thoughts about me. Give it up for Narya! Go to Narya's profile for amazing stories in both Spanish and English! (Okay, I'll stop shamelessly pimping my translator now.)**

**I wish you all a Merry Christmas if you are a believer, a Happy Hanukkah, a Happy Kwanzaa, or a Happy whatever-you-may-celebrate! I hope you all have a good holiday season, and Happy New Year!**

**Also (sorry, so much A/N), contest running: who do you think will be showing up during the time the New Directions are doing Beiber? Who could it be? Contest winner gets: hm. I haven't decided yet. How about you pick your prize? Drop me off a review or message to guess!**

**One small psuedo-song from Blaine stolen from: **_'Suppertime'_ from _The Little Shop of Horrors_

**Reviews are Love.**


	15. An Average Day at Dalton

"So, I'm judging by the fact that you're unpacking, your talk with Ryan about boarding went well?" Blaine asked, lounging comfortably on Kurt's newly-made bed and watching as Kurt put his clothes in his closet.

"Ryan? And since you're in here, could you at least help?" Blaine's only contribution to the room had been wrinkling his sheets.

"Headmaster Fournier. All the Warblers call him Ryan, except for you. The ease of familiarity and all that." Kurt knew Blaine batted the issue away with his hand even though he wasn't facing his best friend. "It's Dalton tradition to set up your own room."

"Now _that_ one I don't believe," Kurt replied, and Blaine's only response was to chuckle.

"By the way," Blaine started, "you're going to have to deal with me a lot, living in this room. I apologize in advance for any morning you see me without coffee." Kurt turned to look at his friend, confused, only to realize the statement was directed towards Chris, who had been nearly silent up to this point.

"I can live with that. You can't be worse than my sister." Blaine and Chris both laughed.

"Probably not. I assure you, however, that _he_ can," Blaine replied, pointing at Kurt, who gave him a death glare. Being the lovingly obnoxious and overly-peppy boy that he is, Blaine was totally immune to Kurt's glares. It was rather infuriating.

"Thanks, Blaine. Love you too." Kurt tried to say it as informally as possible, ignoring the slight catch in his throat. Blaine probably didn't notice.

"Oh, hush," Blaine said with another wave of his hand. "So, your talk with Ryan did go well?"

"Is there a guidance counselor here?" Kurt asked, which must have seemed random to Blaine, but it was the question he'd been wondering about from the meeting.

"No, Ryan usually takes care of that. You can always talk to me, you know." Blaine sounded almost offended. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I don't need one. I was curious because Headmaster.. Ryan gave me some guidance-counselor-like advice," Kurt explained, hanging up his favorite Hermes scarf on it's own hanger.

"What advice?" Blaine sounded amused, obviously over his mini fit of petulance.

"Something about expanding my social horizons," Kurt said. He knew his face was burning an unattractive shade of red as he did so, and he cursed his pale skin a hundred times over for it.

"What?" Blaine asked, obviously as confused as Kurt had been originally.

"Like meeting other guys, besides the Warblers." Blaine's look was still blank. "In a... romantic sense."

"Oh," was Blaine's only response.

"I know, it's ridiculous, right?" Kurt said, getting no response from his oddly-silent best friend. "What rich, overly-intelligent, handsome Dalton guy would be interested in me?" he muttered under his breath, trying futilely not to think of Blaine's lack-of-interest.

"Which one wouldn't?" Blaine asked, clearly having heard that. It was the first and only time Kurt would ever cursed his voice. Belter's lungs. Kurt didn't get a chance to reply before Blaine continued. "I mean, a million guys have asked me about you." He sounded annoyed again, for some reason.

"What? What about?" Kurt asked, wishing it didn't come out so sharp or so high, whirling around to face his bed, where Blaine was flipping through his iPod.

"You know, the normal things. Where you're from, if you're single, what your favorite color is, if you would date them, where I think would be the best place to take you out on a first date, that sort of thing," Blaine listed off the questions, sounding rather detached from the whole conversation as he put one of Kurt's headphones in.

"What did you tell them?" Kurt felt like he was treading unknown waters, about to be eaten by a shark at any moment. He wasn't exactly used to having interest.

"Lima, yes, bottle green, probably not, and somewhere romantic," Blaine recited, still absorbed in Kurt's iPod.

"'Somewhere romantic'?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Hey, I'm not going to give them _all_ the answers," Blaine replied, a hint of his usual humor in the phrase.

"And how many guys did you tell this to?" Kurt asked, a little bit angry with his best friend for sharing.

"Only the ones I considered worthy," was not a helpful answer. Blaine seemed to know this, because he continued to say, "eight, maybe nine."

"Blaine!" Kurt cried indignantly, snatching his iPod out of his friend's hands.

"You're right. I should have made them work up the guts to ask you themselves," Blaine said, still sounding careless but smirking a little now. "Oh well."

"I hate you," Kurt said, and somehow 'hate' was much easier to say than 'love.'

"I know," Blaine said, smiling in earnest now. "Can I have your iPod back?" Kurt begrudgingly handed it back and went back to his closet, muttering under his breath about stupid, overly-sharing best friends.

"You were kidding about talking to guys about me, weren't you?" Kurt asked, just to be sure it was one of Blaine's usual little tricks.

"No, I was only joking about the number. It was more like fifteen."

And that was the day Blaine Anderson was almost strangled to death with a Hermes scarf.

* * *

><p>"I'm a little nervous about this," Chris admitted once Kurt had woken him up. Kurt's new roommate had fretted so much about sleeping through his alarm that Kurt had taken it upon himself to awaken the worried boy when exactly that had happened. Waking Chris, however, had not been an easy task. Once Kurt had reached the point that he thought a pair of cymbals wouldn't wake the boy up, he poured cold water over Chris' back. Worked like a charm.<p>

"About your first day?" Kurt asked, knowing that's what Chris was probably thinking about. After all, not everyone had the seemingly random brain Blaine did.

"And every day after that," Chris said solemnly, sitting on his still damp bed.

"You shouldn't be," Kurt consoled him. "Everyone here is almost worryingly nice. Adjusting is a little bit difficult, but I didn't think it was that challenging." Of course, Kurt had been living at home, but still.

"You had Blaine," Chris pointed out. True.

"You have me. Up. Shower. Now," Kurt ordered, and it was nice to have someone around that listened to him without arguing.

Only when he heard the water turn on did Kurt start disrobing and dressing. Yes, he liked his roommate, but he'd probably never be _that_ comfortable around him. He put on his uniform, cursing the stringent dress code requirements, and put on just a hint of makeup. Yes, makeup was against the rules, but teachers rarely called anyone on that, not even Charlie. Besides, it wasn't like they could tell.

Satisfied with his appearance, Kurt walked over to his bedside table to check his phone. Simultaneously happy and disappointed that there were no messages, Kurt turned back towards his still-half-packed bags, planning on getting at least some unpacked before breakfast, only to be met with a towel clad roommate.

"Oh!" Kurt squeaked embarrassingly high, turning around. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. Only the first full day, and he'd already embarrassed himself in front of his roommate _and_ made said roommate uncomfortable. Great omen.

"Sorry for what?" Chris said, sounding genuinely confused.

"For... you know," Kurt said awkwardly. Did he really have to explain it?

"For what?" Chris asked, still sounding pretty lost.

"He's worried that you're uncomfortable being around him half-naked," Blaine's familiar voice floated in from the (mysteriously open) doorway. Kurt turned to face his best friend, pointedly turning _away_ from his roommate.

"How did you get in here?" Blaine pulled his hand from his pocket, whirling a large key ring around his finger.

"These are the keys to every dorm in Stevenson," Blaine replied. "I stole them from Wes' room so I could sneak up on you," he admitted shamelessly, strolling into the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Has anyone ever told you you're insane?" Kurt asked, knowing he himself had said so many times.

"Has anyone ever told you that not all guys are as paranoid and homophobic as your brother?" Blaine asked, returning the conversation to the original topic, which was exactly what Kurt had been trying to avoid.

"Finn's not homophobic," Kurt tried to argue, knowing Finn wasn't, but the potential was certainly there had he not become friends with Kurt.

"Except for the fact that he worried about you watching him in the shower," Blaine pointed out, making himself comfortable on Kurt's bed.

"Could you get off my bed? You're wrinkling my sheets," Kurt tried to deflect Blaine's comment.

"And not in the fun way either," Blaine teased, making Kurt flush bright red at his casual mention of... _that_. "Returning to the conversation no matter how much you don't want me to, if Chris walks into the room in a towel, he's obviously not concerned about you ogling him."

"Is that what you were acting all weird about?" Chris asked, sounding amused. Kurt shook his head (even though that _was_ why he'd.. reacted) at the same time Blaine nodded. "Dude, relax. I don't care."

"We hadn't noticed! I mean, its not like you're having a conversation with not one, but _two_ gay men, _still_ shirtless." That was Blaine's very subtle way of politely asking Chris to put on a shirt, and teasing him at the same time. Chris grabbed a uniform to do exactly that, and Blaine turned his 'wiser-than-thou' gaze on Kurt.

"What?" he asked his best friend petulantly, still embarrassed.

"Why do you work yourself up over nothing? Honestly, you go to an all boys' school. You're going to see some skin. It happens. These guys are all shameless and accepting, and therefore don't care. Hell, I bet Chris wouldn't even mind if you_ were_ ogling him." Blaine grinned for a second before raising his voice to say, "_I_ was certainly ogling your hot roommate."

"Thank you!" Chris yelled out from the bathroom and Blaine laughed.

"See my point?" Blaine asked, as if it were easy to miss his point.

"I'm sorry that I'm not exactly accustomed to boys stripping in front of me!" Kurt said, a little angry at being teased and turning his back to his best friend to go through a box.

"He wasn't _stripping_," Blaine said, and Kurt knew he'd rolled his eyes. There was silence for a few moments, unusual whenever Blaine was in the room, and then Blaine said, "They really did mess you up, didn't they?"

Just as Kurt was about to answer (what he was going to say, he wasn't sure, but he was going to answer) a stream of profanities came from the bathroom. "I believe that's my cue," Kurt said instead of answering, knocking on the bathroom.

"Help!" Chris cried instead of the normal 'come in' and Kurt cracked up laughing when he saw his roommate. Chris has his tie completely knotted around his neck almost to the point of choking him.

"So, I'm guessing you don't know how to tie a tie," Kurt said once he could breath.

"Kurt, this isn't funny! Help!" Chris was pulling at the tie, and if Kurt let him continue like this he would probably choke himself.

"Calm down, cowboy." Kurt froze when he realized he used his old nickname for Finn. Somehow the tie situation just seemed too familiar. Chris hadn't even noticed, so Kurt just spent a few minutes un-knotting and retying Chris' tie. He would teach him how to tie it properly after school.

When the roommates came back into their bedroom, Blaine was gone, and Kurt's sheets were straightened so perfectly he could have bounced a quarter off of them. "Where did he go?" Chris asked, and Kurt could only shrug.

* * *

><p>"Good morning!" Wes said cheerily, popping into the seat on Kurt's right side. Chris was already occupying his left. Kurt then jumped about a foot as someone pressed a kiss to his neck from behind. What the...?<p>

"Good morning there!" Charlie said cheerfully, and Kurt rolled his eyes. Of course.

"Chris, you remember Charlie. This is Wes, by the way." Kurt remembered his manners.

"Wesley Carlton, head of the Warbler council-" Wes was cut off before he could start introducing himself properly (and giving a bunch of titles that no one really cared about).

"And devoted bottom to David Preston," Charlie finished with a smirk. "Where's Blainers?" Kurt frowned. If Blaine wasn't with Charlie, than where could he possibly be?

"I don't know. I thought he was with you." Charlie just shrugged, unconcerned.

"He's a big boy, I'm not worried. And yes, I mean that in all sorts of ways." Charlie waggled his eyebrows and Kurt tried to ignore both Charlie and how red he must be turning.

"He could also be right there," David pointed over Wes' shoulder once he slid into the seat next to the Asian boy.

"Oh, hey, David! I just made a sex joke about you," Charlie said with a grin, taking the seat next to Chris.

"I have no doubt." The three Warblers and Chris continued to talk and joke, but Kurt withdrew himself from the conversation to watch Blaine in his natural environment.

As fun as having Blaine at his house for Christmas had been, anyone could tell that Dalton was his home. Blaine was cheerfully waving at or hugging almost everyone he ran into, and he looked radiantly happy. The Dalton Blaine was more dapper than Christmas Blaine, and less childish (for the most part), but he was the person Kurt had first come to know, and in a weird way the countertenor had missed him.

"Earth to Kurt! Come in, Kurt!" Charlie's yell directly in his ear snapped him back into the present.

"What? And I would like to retain the use of my ear for the rest of my life so if you would kindly stop yelling directly into it," Kurt said, placing a hand over said ear.

"Yeah, yeah. I just wanted you to stop gawking at Blaine before he realizes that's what you were doing." Surely enough, Blaine was headed this way, grinning at his two best friends.

"Thanks Charlie." Charlie just shrugged.

"Good morning! Sorry about leaving in a hurry this morning, I just had to take a phone call from my parents." Blaine made a face, taking the empty seat next to Charlie.

"Why were you in Kurtsie's room this morning?" Charlie asked, his tone making his statement sound decidedly nefarious.

"I came by to bother him early. Oh, Wes, here's your keys back." Blaine pulled the key ring out of his hand and Wes snatched it quickly.

"Blaine, you're not allowed to use these! Especially not without my permission! I almost called Mrs. Girouard and told her someone had stolen them!" Blaine whistled. That would _not_ have been good for anyone involved.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't."

"It's all right, Wes," Charlie soothed. "Blaine just stole them so he could sneak into Kurt's room and bang him before Chris woke up." Chris choked on his breakfast as Charlie spoke, and Charlie pounded him on the back with a grin.

"He's kidding, Chris." Blaine promised. "He just takes some getting used to, but most anything that comes out of his mouth is sarcastic, dirty, or a joke."

"Or flaccid," Charlie said with a wink, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Sometimes all three," he continued, ignoring Charlie's comment completely. "I promise he's actually a good person, he's just... Charlie." Blaine's phone buzzed before Chris could ask what that meant. Blaine grinned as he picked it up, and he closed it quickly before Charlie could read over his shoulder.

"Who was that?" Charlie asked, clearly annoyed he was being left out.

"No one." Charlie frowned.

"Obviously it was someone. Texts can't come from no one." That, Kurt had learned, was one of Charlie's pet peeves, when someone answered 'no one' or 'nothing' when it was obviously someone or something.

"No one important," Blaine amended, and Charlie seemed satisfied.

"Well, _I_ had a good vacation with my... Lucas," Charlie said with a smirk, completely ignoring his slight slip-up, and Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"You almost called him your boyfriend, didn't you?" Blaine asked, acting exaggeratedly shocked to piss Charlie off. Yes, the idea was surprising, but not _that_ surprising.

"Bite me," Charlie replied with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't, like, meet his parents or anything. We just chilled at his house, which was... quaint. I'm pretty sure you guys can guess exactly what happened during that three days, over, and over, and over." Charlie's grin was borderline predatory, but no one seemed concerned (besides Chris, who looked like he was trying to hide an expression of terror. Charlie had that effect on unaccustomed people).

"Thank you for those lovely mental images over breakfast," Blaine replied as his phone buzzed again.

"They're all crazy, aren't they?" Chris whispered, and Kurt didn't have any sufficient answer, so he just nodded.

"Who are you texting?" Charlie asked exasperatedly, trying and failing to snatch the phone out of Blaine's hand.

"No one important!" Blaine stressed, managing to keep his phone long enough to type out a reply and then pocket it. Charlie huffed but didn't give up, trying to wiggle his hand into Blaine's pocket as Blaine fought him off.

"I would put that back in your dorm before class if I were you," Wes reprimanded, and Blaine just shrugged, blocking Charlie's access to his pocket with one hand and eating with the other in a way that seemed far too practiced. "Are you two excited about practice? I have a fantastic number planned!"

"Another Blaine-centered one," Kurt muttered, probably just a little too loudly, and Blaine rolled his eyes (either at Kurt or at Wes, the countertenor didn't know). He told himself he shouldn't be jealous of the way things worked and Blaine's talent, but he _was_. Call him a diva, but he was.

"We don't have Warbler practice until next week. Calm down." David tolled his eyes at Blaine. Eye-rolling was definitely a staple to any conversation at Dalton.

"Don't pull that 'holier-than-thou' crap. We all know you're excited to be back on the stage." Blaine grinned shamelessly in reply to David's word.

Wes was just about to comment (probably something about how their rehearsal room wasn't technically a stage) when Blaine yelled out, "Hey!" slapping at Charlie. "That is _not_ my pocket!"

Everyone at the table cracked up laughing.

* * *

><p>From: Finn<strong><br>'Im gonna pnch Krfsky inhis stpd fce if he mks 1 mre jke bout us bing a cple.'**

To: Finn_  
>'You just have to ignore it. He's an ignorant buffoon. You've had plenty of girlfriends to prove otherwise.'<em>

From: Finn**  
>'4 sum1 woo mks gay jkes, Krfsky dsnt hve mch 2 prve him str8.'<strong>

To: Finn_  
>'Fighting fire with fire burns up the whole place, Finn. Whatever you're thinking right now is not a good idea.'<em>

From: Finn**  
>'Rach hsnt txted u?'<strong>

To: Finn_  
>'Why would Rachel text me?'<em>

From: Finn**  
>'Rach said she wold tel u the nws.'<strong>

To: Finn_  
>'For Pete's sake, somebody tell me the news! And no, Pete is not someone you should know about.'<em>

From: Finn**  
>'Call Rach.'<strong>

* * *

><p>"So, did you make anyone cry today? Did Chris meet Mr. Bressler? Did Chris meet Mrs. Girouard?" Every boy at the table shuddered at the name. "Did-"<p>

"Blaine, I can't answer your questions if you ask them all in a row," Kurt chastised his best friend as he and Chris took seats at the Warbler table. "No, no, and thankfully, no."

Blaine huffed in disappointment. "Did you take Ryan's advice?" Blaine asked with a smirk, and Kurt almost hit him. Almost.

"No, I did not." Kurt didn't understand Blaine's obsession with teasing him about guys, unless Blaine had figured him out and was trying to make it very clear that he wasn't interested, but that wasn't something Kurt wanted to think about. "Maybe _you_ should."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow, his voice completely neutral."

"Westerville, yes, cornflower blue, maybe, and somewhere a nerd would love," Kurt replied, answering the same questions for Blaine that the tenor had supposedly been asked about for Kurt.

"I don't see your point," Blaine said, getting it. Everyone else at the table looked confused, even Chris, who had been a part of the conversation they were referring to.

"Once again, Klaine is being super esoteric and half-arguing, half-flirting," Charlie announced as he took a seat by Blaine.

"Klaine?" Chris asked, confused, and Charlie answered as both members of 'Klaine' shook their heads.

"That's everyone's name for Blaine and Kurt as a joint entity and eventually a couple because they both need to get their heads out of their asses and start screwing." Charlie said all of this nonchalantly, and the Warblers nodded.

"You guys are horrible," Blaine said, trying to turn the conversation from his lack of love life. It wasn't that he didn't have options, it's just there was always _Kurt_. That being said... "I'm perfectly fine being single, thank you."

"As am I, so I don't see why we're talking about this," Kurt pointed out, and Blaine dropped the subject, at least for the moment.

"Do you see why I refer to them as a joint entity?" Charlie asked, and Chris just nodded.

"Thanks, roomie," Kurt said, sending Chris a betrayed glare. Chris shrugged.

"Do you know what the most fun thing to do in a grocery store is _ever_?" Charlie asked, suddenly bouncing in his chair and clearly waiting for an answer to what would normally be a rhetorical question.

"Do you have Tourette's or something?" Blaine asked, annoyed.

"Putting boxes of condoms in other people's carts?" Wes asked in answer to Charlie's question.

"Walking from the food section to the woman's restaurant leaving a trail of tomato juice?" David offered, and both Kurt and Blaine wrinkled their noses.

"Darting around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the 'Mission Impossible' theme?" Chris asked, and Wes, David, and Charlie all slapped him five.

"Finally! The silent roommate has a sense of humor!" Charlie exclaimed.

"Hiding in clothes racks and yelling out 'pick me' from different spots while people are browsing?" Blaine asked, and when Charlie shook his head again, Wes snapped.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Charlie, what is it?"

"Waiting for an announcement to come over the loud speaker, then getting into the fetal position and screaming 'Oh no! It's those voices again!'" Everyone cracked up laughing.

"How do you come up with this stuff?" Wes asked, actually curious.

"Oh, Wes, do you really want to know how the inner sanctums of my mind work?"

* * *

><p>"I got an interesting text from Finn today." Kurt, Blaine, and Wes were hanging out in Blaine's dorm while Chris was in the office getting his schedule and books. Kurt was sitting on the bed that he'd borrowed many times while Wes sifted through Blaine's sheet music and Blaine lounged on his bed, computer in his lap.<p>

"Do tell the latest New Directions drama, unless, of course, it involves disloyalty to your club." Blaine's voice was perfectly formal and dapper, but he couldn't keep a straight face.

"Do tell the latest New Directions drama," Wes copied, "_especially_ _if _it involves disloyalty to your club." Wes was kidding as well, too honorable to consider cheating.

"Well, Finn was just complaining about Karofsky making jokes about us being a couple. Since, of course, this happens all the time, I have a feeling there was more to it than that, but Finn refuses to tell me, and I'm not going to pry. Anyway, I don't actually know the news, I'm supposed to call Rachel to find out." Kurt had pestered Finn for as long as he could without being caught using his phone, but Finn kept advising him to call Rachel rather than telling Kurt himself, which was odd considering how much of a sore spot Rachel was for him recently.

"Call her now," Blaine suggested. "Oh! Put her on speaker phone."

Kurt did as his best friend suggested and called the diva, prepared for the outburst of the century the moment she picked up. "_Hello. Rachel's phone._" Kurt was surprised by the morose, subdued tone (more so than the fact Rachel was referring to herself in the third person. That happened bizarrely often).

"Hi, Rachel. This is Kurt with a side of Blaine and Wes. What's wrong?" Something had to be wrong. There was never a moment when Rachel wasn't all sunshine and sparkle if she was okay.

"_No one told you the news?_" If Kurt heard those words one more time today, he would scream.

"Finn told me to call you to find out, oddly enough." Finn was a sore spot for Rachel as well, mentioning him felt like baiting her inevitable explosion.

"_Well, I suppose I do tell stories in a more theatrical way, increasing the entertainment of the audience... if anyone has the heart to find this funny._" For a moment she had seemed more like the Rachel he'd come to know and tolerate, but then she was back to Rachel from the week before Regionals last year, brooding and pensive.

"Rachel, please just tell me what's going on." Kurt didn't want to beg, but he would go mad if someone didn't bring him up to speed and soon.

"_Mr. Schue and Coach Beiste got tired of the football team and Glee club arguing, making it really hard for the guys on the team to stay together, even with their big game coming up. It's Nationals or something._"

"It's called the championship, honey," Kurt both informed her and soothed her, secretly loving the way she put everything into show choir or musical theatre terms.

"_They made the guys on the football team join Glee club._" Wes and Blaine both gasped dramatically (Wes sincerely, Blaine being... Blaine). Kurt couldn't even find words. Who's great idea was this?

"Are they insane?" was what Kurt managed to choke out after a few seconds of stunned silence.

"_Apparently. The first joint rehearsal today went about as well as you can imagine. Puck and I sang _'Need You Now'_ to make Finn jealous, and at the end Puck almost bashed Azimio's face in with his guitar for the comment he made. Everyone got in a full scale brawl that Mr. Schue and Coach Beiste had trouble pulling apart. When they managed, we were dismissed immediately. Both teachers had that parental 'I'm-so-ashamed' expression... at least, that's what Mercedes said. My fathers would never give me that look._" Kurt could picture everything Rachel said in his head except...

"Wait, _everyone_ got in a brawl? You included? Tina? Brittany? I mean, Santana I can believe would want to get in a few punches, even Mercedes, but Quinn?" His girls would do a lot for him, but _that_?

"_You have no idea how painful it was for us to have to share our sacred space with the very homophobe that chased a prized member away. Even _I_ wanted to hit Karofsky. It was a unique experience, one I hope I will never repeat. Getting in fights is bad press._" Kurt stifled a laugh at the idea of the headline 'Broadway Star Rachel Berry gets in fight with New York Giants Player [insert name here] in a mini skirt'.

"Rachel, honey, stay strong. I'm sure Will and Coach Beiste will come to their senses and realize how idiotic this idea was in the first place eventually." There was no way Karofsky, or any of the football players, would work successfully with the Glee club.. right?

"_Will you meet me for coffee sometime? We really miss you, all of us. Well, except for the scum bags and immature jerks who are now occupying half of our beloved choir room. You know what I mean._" Kurt knew.

"Of course, Rachel. How about Friday, right after rehearsal?"

"_Sounds perfect._"

"Can I come?" Blaine asked from across the room, loud enough to be heard by Rachel. "Believe it or not, I miss the madness."

"_Of course, Blaine_," Rachel said immediately. "_How about I invite Mercedes as well, and we meet at the Lima Bean? Sound good?_"

"Sounds great, Rach. See you then." Kurt was ready to hang up the phone when he heard Rachel's typical parting for him.

"_Goodbye, my love._" Smiling at the idea he had brought back a small part of the normal Rachel, Kurt responded in kind and hung up the phone.

"Your choral director is out of his freakin' mind," Wes offered from the stack of sheet music he had assembled on Blaine's desk.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry. After this painfully long wait, all you get is short fluff. Next chapter will be longer and more plot-important. This is mostly set-up and fluff. Plenty of Warbler madness next chapter too. I'm sorry for the long wait, I became so busy for a few weeks that I almost completely forgot I write fanfiction.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	16. Charlie's Evil Plot

"Any news?" Wes asked eagerly a few days later as he fell into step next to Kurt and Blaine as they walked towards physics.

"Sadly, plenty. At this point, I'd be more concerned if there _wasn't_ news, because then there would be a headline proclaiming someone had mass-murdered a show choir at McKinley High." Wes laughed at Kurt's dry statement.

"Would they really kill each other?" Wes asked, and Blaine and Kurt both snorted at the question.

"Even the original members of the club would kill each other if they were left alone in a room with no adult supervision for more than five minutes," Blaine replied. "I can't imagine what it's like with the addition of people they hate and who hate them. There's a long history of enmity there."

"Especially with Finn and K-Karofsky in the same room," Kurt said, trying but failing not to stutter over his ex-bully's name. "The only good thing that's come out of this is Karofsky replaced Puck at Finn's number one hated person ever, so the ex-best-friends have become allies again. Puck made some obscure masculine action movie reference that I didn't quite catch, but I believe that's the general gist."

"_Top Gun_," both Warblers said in sync with a grin, and Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If only Dalton boys were as poised and mature as they seemed in the pictures on the Dalton web site.

"Coach Sylvester has gone above and beyond her usual level of insanity and is now trying to shoot poor Brittany out of a _cannon_. Principal Figgins, the idiot, said she only needed Brittany's consent to be able to do so, and I love Brittany, but she's very gullible. I'm only hoping Quinn can protect her," Kurt said, continuing to fill them in on news even as they walked by the physics room.

"Is that even legal?" Wes asked. "Someone should definitely check that out."

"According to Miss Sylvester, so who knows if it's accurate, shooting a cheerleader out of a cannon is as dangerous as allowing football players to get sacked or hockey players to get slammed into the boards." Kurt let disgust color his tone. He had previously respected Sue, but the woman clearly didn't have a _line_ as to how far she would go for a crowd.

"Technically," Blaine offered from Kurt's other side, "that's probably true in legal terms. It is possible for a tackle or a slam to be lethal. The probability is lower, but it's still possible."

"And this is a prime example of how America is going to the dumps," Wes said in an absolutely serious tone. "I'm moving to South Africa."

"Try as you might, Wes, you will never be Peekay." There would always, Kurt had come to accept, be references at Dalton that he will never understand.

"Anyway," Kurt said, drawing the word out. "Coach Sylvester went on a rampage: throwing around lamps and chairs, abusing the students, trashing the boy's locker room. The full extent of the damage isn't known, but what we _do_ know is that she sent a very clear message by having the cheerleaders' Regionals moved to the same date as the championship game."

"Why the hell would she do that?" Wes asked. "Now, if she arranged to have the football team eaten by snakes I would understand her intentions, but what do the cheerleaders have to do with it? Not, of course, that I don't like cheerleaders." Wes grinned.

"Wes, _gay_," Blaine said very pointedly, pointing his finger between Kurt and himself.

"It's a morale thing," Kurt replied to Wes' questions, ignoring the Warblers usual banter. "If the cheerleaders aren't there, there's no one on the sidelines cheering them on, _and_ there's no halftime show. What they're going to do to fix this, I have no idea."

"Couldn't they just get it moved back?" Blaine suggested, and Kurt shook his head.

"Unfortunately, as crazy as she is, Sue has sway. There's no way the cheerleading board would listen to a football coach or a show choir director, but they of course listened to a six-time national championship winning cheerleading coach."

"Well, they better come up with something soon. Isn't the championship game in like a week?"

* * *

><p>Charlie came into Blaine's room humming and sat down at the end of his bed, regardless of the fact that he was trying to study. A few moments later, Charlie started tapping his foot and humming louder because he was getting no response.<p>

"Charlie, whatever dirty thing you just did to Lucas that you want to tell me about, I don't want to hear it," Blaine said firmly.

"Who said I did anything... fair enough. That's not what I came here to talk to you about though." Charlie was waiting for him to ask. He knew it, and Charlie knew he knew it, but he wouldn't give Charlie the pleasure of giving in. The tapping became louder, and the humming became song. "_I know something you don't know_," over and over again.

"Fine. What?" Blaine asked. Charlie knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

"I concocted a plot to get Nick-slash-Jeff out into the fresh air from the closet they've bee hiding in since the moment they met." Blaine took a few moments to process Charlie's words before answering in a very calm tone.

"Charlie." Charlie's head swiveled obediently. "You do know that Nick and Jeff are not, in fact, together, and we all just like teasing them about it because they're best friends?" Charlie laughed.

"You're kidding, right? Those two have been all over each other since freshman year. You and Kurt are the couple we tool on for being close best friends. They're the couple we've been trying to poke out of the closet for years." Blaine must have looked stunned. He felt stunned. He had previously had no idea that Nick/Jeff were actually Nick/Jeff. "Did you really not know that?"

"I really didn't know," Blaine's voice sounded shocked too, and it sent Charlie into peals of laughter.

"Blaine, sometimes you are _so_ dumb," Charlie said once he'd calmed down, and it wasn't really an insult, coming from him. "Like, for example, how you refuse to admit that you want to get Kurt in your bed and-"

"Charlie," Blaine cut him off firmly. He didn't want to hear whatever Charlie thought of when it came to Kurt in bed.

"Party pooper." Charlie pouted.

"Well, how exactly do you plan to get Nick and Jeff out of the closet anyway? If they even are a real couple," Blaine added quickly. How had he missed that? Charlie might tease him about being oblivious, but he couldn't be _that_ blind.

"Blaine, you were wrong. Get over it," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes before making himself comfortable on Blaine's bed next to him and knocking Blaine's books out of his hands and off the side of the bed. "And, to answer your question, constant teasing." Charlie didn't sound like that would be much of a hardship.

Ignoring the fact that Charlie's plan was... well, kind of typical of Charlie and his bad planning, Blaine asked, "And what exactly do you have to tease them about?"

"Well, the normal gay sex jokes, of course. Like the ones you don't want to hear about Kurt even though-"

"Charlie!" Blaine said again. He didn't need to hear that.

"Even though they're _true_. That's all I was gonna say." Blaine gave him a disbelieving look. "I swear. Anyway, it's all about making opportunities, Blainers!" Charlie grinned widely. That was never a good sign.

"Don't call me Blainers," Blaine interjected quickly, only to be completely ignored, as usual.

"If one of them is late to anything, they were obviously occupied with the other. We force them to site close to each other and make cuddling jokes. We play joint pranks on them, so we can say they spend a lot of time together that they don't tell anyone else about."

"God, you really are crazy, aren't you?" Blaine said with a groan, leaning back against his pillows.

"I like to call myself an opportunist," Charlie said with a grin. "Come on! Are you in or what? This has to be a joint effort from all the Warblers!"

"I'm gonna have to go with 'or what'. Sorry, Charlie, but everyone should come out of the closet at their own pace. Just because you and I-"

"And Kurt," Charlie added quickly, determined as usual to stick Kurt into every one of their conversations.

"And Kurt," Blaine amended, "are comfortable being ourselves, doesn't mean Nick and Jeff are. If they're happy, why can't we just leave them be?"

"Because that's _no fun_!" Charlie said with a smile. "Again: party pooper."

"No, Charlie. Now, go away. I have to study," Blaine said, kicking Charlie 'accidentally' as he started to grab his books from the floor.

"No fun!" Charlie announced as he flounced off. "You just want alone time so you can jack off to all the ideas about Kurt I gave you!" he yelled as he continued down the hallway, not caring if Kurt heard him.

"Charlie!" Blaine yelled, but the other boy didn't respond.

* * *

><p>"Across, underneath, above, up, through the loop, and perfect!" Kurt announced, tying Chris' tie in the simplest way he knew for him. "Now you try." Kurt easily untied it and offered the piece of fabric to Chris expectantly.<p>

"Uh.." Chris looked at it the same way Brittany looked at computers: hopelessly confused.

"Chris, it's six steps," Kurt said with a sigh. Even Finn knew how to tie a tie by now.

"Okay, I can do this." Chris picked up the tie and started by placing it the wrong way on his neck. Maybe he could remember it backwards. Kurt sighed again, but let him continue to fiddle with it, sitting down on his bed to watch. "So, what's the deal with you and Blaine?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked.

"Well, you told me you liked him, and he obviously likes you too, and you spend _way_ to much time around each other to be anything but dating. So why aren't you?" Chris asked, as the knot that his tie had formed became more and more complex.

"First of all, Blaine doesn't like me. Second, why is it so impossible for anyone to believe that two gay guys can't be best friends without falling into bed with each other?" Kurt demanded, kind of annoyed.

"I didn't say anything about sex, dude." Chris rolled his eyes and Kurt blushed. "I'm just saying, you two seem abnormally close."

"Well, we are abnormally close. We became best friends within two weeks of knowing each other, and we've kind of always been like this," Kurt said, because it was true.

"I'll say it again. You like him, he likes you, just date already." Chris didn't sound particularly impassioned, but there was something akin to concern in his voice.

"Blaine and I are just friends," Kurt said firmly, and Chris snorted.

"Right. Two, gay, single, friends, who do everything together, have a couple name, and are teased by everyone to just get together already," Chris said with a laugh. "This sounds totally normal."

"You're choking yourself again," Kurt changed the subject, standing up to unravel Chris' tie.

"He's right. Well, mostly," a voice announced at the door, the second word drawn out in the sing-song way that could only mean one person. Charlie.

"It's open," Kurt said, resigned more than welcoming.

"You only have to add one more trait to that list for it to be completely accurate: stubborn. And that, along with completing your list, explains why they're not together," Charlie said as if it was simple.

"Across, underneath, above, up, through the loop, and perfect," Kurt repeated as he retied Chris' tie. "Try again."

"Now, how would you guys feel about helping me poke Nick and Jeff out of the closet?" Charlie asked, and Chris' brow furrowed in confusion. At the knot he was already forming or Charlie, Kurt wasn't sure.

"Nick and Jeff are really together?" Kurt asked. He had thought the Warblers were just joking when they said that, the same way they teased Kurt and Blaine.

"Not again," Charlie groaned.

* * *

><p>"Will no one join me in my evil plot?" Charlie asked, frustrated, as he took a seat near Blaine, Kurt, and Chris for lunch on Friday.<p>

"Your crazy idea to get Nick and Jeff out of the closet? Probably not," Blaine said calmly, eating his pizza and looking expectantly at his phone.

"What are you waiting for?" Charlie asked, peering closely at his phone as if he could predict what was going to happen with proximity.

"Nothing, Charlie. Anyway, no one's going to join you in your 'evil plot' because no one really cares whether or not Nick and Jeff are out of the closet," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "As I said before, it's their business, not ours."

"Can we at least play one prank of them?" Charlie opened his eyes wide and pouted like a little kid begging for ice cream. Blaine sighed.

"As David, he's the one who loves pranks."

"I feel sorry for Wes," Chris muttered, and Charlie laughed.

"Please, those two are totally screwing. Hey, David!" Charlie yelled across the table, not concerned about things like teachers or the ears of those near him.

"Yeah?" David yelled back.

"Wanna play a prank?"

"Sure."

"Okay. We'll need a t-shirt, hoody, empty water bottle, long tube, can of potato soup, brown and orange food coloring, and some conspirators." Charlie grinned evilly.

"No," Blaine said firmly and David yelled "Sure!" across the table at the same time.

"Aw. I love that prank," Charlie said with a frown.

"What the hell kind of prank is that?" Chris asked, and Blaine shook his head.

"That prank is disgusting, Charlie. No," Blaine said firmly. Surprisingly, Charlie sighed and seemed to listen.

"David, change of plans! Grab a knife and some jalapeños!" Charlie yelled.

"Charlie! Can't you try a harmless prank once in a while," Blaine asked with a roll of his eyes.

"All right. We need two bowls, some peanut M&M's, and some regular peanuts!" Charlie yelled.

"In addition?" David asked.

"No, instead of!" Charlie yelled back. "Happy?" he asked Blaine.

"As long as you actually use the extra peanuts," Blaine said solemnly.

"I will," Charlie promised, and Blaine nodded his approval.

"Do you know all his pranks?" Kurt asked.

"Considering he practiced most of them on me, yes," Blaine replied with a scowl at Charlie, and the roommates cracked up.

* * *

><p>"Order!" Wes yelled, banging his gavel, Lucy, against the desk. Kurt frowned as he looked around. Blaine would be in big trouble if he was late, and he wasn't there. "We have a new number to rehearse today. My colleague," he gestured to David as a few of the Warblers chuckled at the term, "suggested we try a freehand rehearsal whilst on book and choreograph once the number has been finalized. I have agreed to this proposal."<p>

"Sheet music is on the table," David gestured. Even the setting for the room was a lot less formal than Kurt was used to. Whatever was going on here, David was obviously behind it, possibly at the suggestion of Charlie (who wasn't there, but that wasn't exactly shocking).

Kurt grabbed his sheet music and returned to his seat. He was on the couch near the door with Anthony, and he had left some room for Blaine, but he obviously didn't plan to show up. Jeff was at the couch across from him, and Kurt couldn't help but follow his gaze occasionally to Nick. They really _were_ together if the look in Jeff's eyes was any indicator.

Nick and Michael were standing near the door, and at Wes' cue, the Warblers began... tick-ticking was the best description Kurt could think of, with Kendrick making some incredibly inhuman noises. Just as the main vocals were about to begin, Nick and Michael pulled open the doors and Blaine strutted in with sheet music in his hands. Obviously this had been planned.

_At first we started out real cool  
>Takin' me places I ain't never been<br>But now you're getting comfortable  
>Ain't doin' those things you did no more<br>You're slowly making me pay for things  
>Your money should be handling<em>

The Warblers could improvise surprisingly well when they were allowed too. Even free-styling they looked like a machine, moving to the beat and reacting to each other, Blaine, as always, the central focus.

_And now you ask to use my car  
>Drive it all day and don't fill up the tank<br>And you have the audacity  
>To even come and step to me<br>Ask to hold some money from me  
>Until you get your check next week<em>

Blaine jumped up on the couch during this section, driving over Kurt and Anthony's heads, and Kurt saw Wes glare. Blaine would be paying for that later. Blaine knocked over the chess game between Robbie and Gabe, ensuring there would be some Warblers angry with him later (other than Wes, of course).

_You triflin' good for nothing type of brother  
>Silly me, why haven't I found another<br>A baller when times get hard need someone to help me out  
>Instead of a scrub like you who don't know what a man's about<em>

It was kind of flattering, in a way, the way Blaine gravitated towards him while he was singing, even if he was singing a song about a terrible boyfriend. Maybe he was just trying to coax up one of the only Warblers left sitting, or maybe it was just Blaine's nature, but it got him thinking about what Chris had been saying earlier.

_Can you pay my bills?  
>Can you pay my telephone bills?<br>Can you pay my automobills?  
>If you did than maybe we could chill<br>I don't think you do  
>So you and me are through<em>

The Warbler-robot continued it's synchronicity as all the Warblers threw away their sheet music on the first line of the chorus. Even Kurt knew it was the right moment. Everyone knew this song. Blaine was clearly the leader, again, as he indicated who should do what without ever turning to look at them.

_You triflin' good for nothing type of brother  
>Silly me, why haven't I found another<br>A baller when times get hard need someone to help me out  
>Instead of a scrub like you who don't know what a man's about<em>

Who knew Blaine could actually dance a little? Kurt stood up to join the madness as David did the kind of acrobatic Kurt would expect from a Cheerio across the space in the Warbler circle.

_Can you pay my bills?  
>Can you pay my telephone bills?<br>Can you pay my automobills?  
>If you did than maybe we could chill<br>I don't think you do  
>So you and me are through<em>

Blaine sang the entire chorus on a table, and the informality must just be eating Wes up at this point. What was with Blaine and hopping around on furniture as he sings?

_You triflin' good for nothing type of brother  
>Oh, silly me, why haven't I found another<br>You triflin' good for nothing type of brother  
>Oh, silly me, why haven't I found another<em>

Nick, Jeff, David, and Kendrick showed off their dance moves in the middle of the circle the Warblers had formed. Blaine was still on the table.

_Can you pay my bills?  
>Can you pay my telephone bills?<br>Can you pay my automobills?  
>If you did than maybe we could chill<br>I don't think you do  
>So you and me are through<em>

_Can you pay my bills?  
>Can you pay my telephone bills?<br>Can you pay my automobills?  
>If you did than maybe we could chill<br>I don't think you do  
>So you and me are through<em>

At this point, the Warblers had become one big unit of free-styling, and occasionally working together as Blaine indicated. It was the best number Kurt had ever seen the Warblers do, and Blaine seemed to agree by the grin on his face. "Guys, I'd say we're ready for Regionals," he said, making the Warblers whoop and cheer like the teenage boys they were.

"Did I give you permission to climb on the furniture, Blaine?" Wes demanded as the cheering died down, but it only served to make the Warblers laugh and Blaine to look embarrassed and amused, but not particularly resentful.

"Sorry, Wes," Blaine said. Apparently, this was an old joke. Did Blaine always climb on furniture to dance?

"Despite Junior Warbler Blaine's clear break of the 'No Dancing On The Furniture, _Blaine_' rule," David said, making the Warblers laugh some more, "the number was clearly a great success."

"Yes, indeed," Wes agreed, though he looked a little lost without Lucy. "Meeting adjourned?"

"Seconded," all the Warblers said simultaneously with grins. Wes huffed a little bit, but waved his hands for them to go.

At that moment, confetti burst onto Jeff's head with a loud cannon noise, making him yelp and practically jump into Nick's embrace. The two paused for a moment before Jeff pulled away, blushing and taking a great interest in the floor.

"Sorry," Jeff murmured. Nick looked about ready to say something when Charlie popped his head into the room.

"Hey lovebirds, what's happenin'?" Everyone except Nick and Jeff rolled their eyes, knowing this was part of Charlie's plan to push Neff (their new couple name) out of the closet. Sadly, if Charlie had waited a few more moments before appearing, it looked like he would have been a little more successful.

"So, all the Warblers needed to do was loosen up a little bit?" Kurt said with a laugh as Blaine trotted over as Charlie continued to tease Neff, a flush lingering on his cheeks from the mention of the rule made specifically for him.

"Apparently, we could learn a few lessons from that hellhole you call McKinley High, huh?" Blaine said with a grin. Kurt ignored the little bit of sadness and pity lingering behind his smile.

"Ready for coffee with my girls?" Kurt asked as they left.

"Not even a little bit," Blaine said, making Kurt laugh.

"You know, I thought you weren't even going to show up to rehearsal. I was kind of looking forward to watching Wes tear you a new one," Kurt said as Blaine held the door for him.

"Nah, we planned the entrance ahead. Wes thought it would make the performance seem a little more spontaneous for the rest of the Warblers, ignoring the fact that they all knew it was planned because Wes didn't ask where I was before starting." Blaine rolled his eyes. Everyone loved Wes, of course, but when it came to the Warblers he was an odd little duck.

"Shoot, I have to grab my bag," Kurt remembered. He had left his bag leaning against the couch and forgotten about it because he had left it. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here."

Kurt headed back down the hallway, hoping Wes hadn't already locked up the practice room. He passed Thad and went just a little bit faster. If Wes wasn't in there, it wouldn't be unlocked again until Monday and his room key was in his bag.

Thankfully, they hadn't unlocked it yet, as the door closest to his couch was open enough for Kurt to slip in and he could hear a snatch of Wes and David's conversation.

"I told you spontaneity would work," David said, but it didn't sound like he was bragging.

"I never doubted you," Wes said, and he sounded sincere. What in the world was going on? David always bragged and Wes always teased him whenever he did. It was how the two worked.

"Of course you did, but I just didn't listen to you." David sounded a little more teasing, but it still didn't sound quite like the best friends.

Kurt slipped into the room and grabbed his bag just in time to hear "Well, aren't you smart?" and see Wes pull David in for a kiss. Kurt gaped for a moment before realizing how badly Wes would ream him out if he thought Kurt was spying.

Kurt ducked back out the door and rushed back to Blaine, bag securely over his shoulder. David hadn't looked surprised, and hadn't pushed Wes away, so it probably wasn't the first time this had happened. Didn't Wes have a girlfriend? Did she know she was a beard? Was that why he could never stay with girls for longer than two weeks and he managed to stay with her? How many closet couples did this school have? As much as Wes may have denied it, this was definitely a gay school.

Worst question of all: Charlie was right?

Blaine was humming _Hero_ from the ridiculous Disney movie _Starstruck_ when Kurt reached him and tapping his feet impatiently. Kurt thought about telling him for a moment, but decided not to. Just like Nick and Jeff, whatever was going on between Wes and David was their business and no one else's.

"Ready?" Blaine asked, seeing Kurt's bag on his shoulder.

"Ready," Kurt confirmed, and they headed out to the Navigator.

* * *

><p>Blaine made Kurt listen to the soundtrack to <em>Starstruck<em> on the way to the Lima Bean. The singing wasn't really that bad, so Kurt didn't complain too much. It didn't have anything to do, of course, with how cute Blaine's obsession with Disney was. The tenor was a child at heart, no matter how mature he pretended to be.

Rachel and Mercedes squealed once Kurt got out of the car and ran up to hug him. Rachel gave a very unsuspecting Blaine a hug as well.

"Girl, you look _fabulous_," Kurt said to Mercedes as they headed into the Lima Bean. Mercedes was wearing a loud scarf, a printed hat, and a black shirt with a pop of color on it, but she made it work. Kurt mentally approved of Rachel's outfit as well, but only because he couldn't see any of it.

"Medium drip, Grande nonfat mocha, vanilla chai latte, and white chocolate mocha," Blaine rattled off, making Kurt smile and Rachel and Mercedes raise their eyebrows. "And it's on me," Blaine informed the people behind him.

"Blaine, I can-" Kurt couldn't even get the rest of his sentence out before Blaine was interrupting.

"I insist," Blaine said, pulling out his wallet. Knowing how stubborn Blaine could be, Kurt just walked over to where the drinks would be served as Blaine paid.

"Medium drip," Kurt announced as it came to him.

"That would be me, thank you very much," Blaine said as if Kurt didn't already know that, but he didn't comment as he handed it over, the girls reaching around him to get their drinks. "Now, I don't want to sound cocky or anything, but you guys better be pulling out all the stops for Regionals, because the number we just rehearsed is so off the hook, it's dangerous," Blaine said as they grabbed the nearest empty table, the Dalton boys sitting on the far side and the McKinley girls sitting nearer to the door.

"Seriously, people should wear protective head gear when they're watching it," Kurt teased his ladies. Rachel and Mercedes didn't look amused. "Guys, we're kidding."

"Yeah, well it's just hard to laugh right now with everything that's going on at McKinley," Rachel said seriously.

"I mean, look at us, the stars of two rival show choirs sitting down to coffee. Our school is so messed up we can't even keep our football team together," Mercedes said, and she sounded just as down as Rachel.

"It's so sad, you guys," Rachel began. "Coach Beiste and Mr. Schue were so close to getting everyone in this all together."

"Why hasn't Finn told me anything about this? I mean, we live together. I bring him a glass of warm milk every night just in hopes that we'll have a little lady chat." And it was true. Finn and Kurt did inhabit the same house, sometimes, and Kurt brought him milk every night that he could.

"Warm milk?" Blaine asked, his tone implying the words 'this is what you decided to do with my idea of tradition?' "Really?"

"It's delicious," Kurt defended his tradition.

"Finn's too proud to complain. He feels that he has to be strong for everyone. I know it's just killing him inside. I hope he realizes that if he and I were still together, I could make him feel a lot better, you know." Kurt resisted the urge to sigh.

"Let it go, Rachel." Amazingly, Rachel let it go upon Kurt's suggestion.

"I... I just... wish that there was a way... that we could help, that's all," Rachel said, stuttering as she usually did when she was trying to be nice or selfless.

"Yeah, and the worst part is how bummed the guys are. I mean, they already suffer enough abuse just being in Glee. I really think winning the game could ease some of the pressure, at least for a little while." Mercedes sounded just as bummed as Kurt imagined Finn would be.

"Wait, so the whole team quit?" Blaine's question (if a bit muffled) reminded Kurt that he still hadn't heard the whole story.

"Everybody not in Glee, but you can't play football with five guys, and one of them is in a wheelchair," Mercedes said with a shrug.

"Yeah, Coach Beiste put up a signup sheet for people to join, I think they'll take anyone at this point," Rachel said, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Well, the good news is you only actually need four more guys. High school regulations actually let you play a couple guys short if you want to," Blaine said, and Kurt could see the plan forming in Rachel's eyes as she lowered her coffee cup. He didn't think it would be a good one. "But, if they figure out a way to make it work," Blaine continued as Mercedes and Rachel shared a look, "you can bet we'll definitely be there to cheer them on."

"Oh, totally," Kurt agreed, happy to spend more time with Blaine outside of school. "Blaine and I love football." At the odd look he got from his girls, he amended his statement. "Well, Blaine loves football. I love," _Blaine_, "scarves." Mercedes and Rachel shared another look. "How exactly did we get to this point?" Kurt asked, as he began to figure out what they were thinking. As different as the three were, they plotted bizarrely similarly.

"Well, I told you about what Coach Crazy did, right?" Mercedes asked, and Kurt nodded. "Well, Mr. Schue decided that the Glee club and the football team would do the halftime show."

"Which made the football players unhappy because they would have to play the first half, change, perform, change again, and then play the second half," Rachel added, rolling her eyes and taking another sip of her coffee. "Not exactly a challenging concept, if you ask me."

"Anyway, we're doing _Thriller_ mashed up with Yeah Yeah Yeah's _Heads Will Roll_." Kurt nodded again. The creepy songs would mix very well.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly is a 'mash up'?" Blaine asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"When you take two songs and mix them together to create a new one," Kurt said, resisting the urge to smooth out the wrinkle that appeared between the tenor's brows with his thumb. "Though I still don't understand how lightning is in competition with an above-ground swimming pool," he added, making Rachel and Mercedes laugh and Blaine even more confused.

"Anyway, Mr. Schue proposed 'Zombie Camp' where we learned to dance and do make up to be zombies." Rachel looked hesitant, and Kurt sighed.

"You can talk about Karofsky," he made sure to keep his voice very steady so he didn't stutter, "I'm not going to have a conniption."

"Karofsky's surprisingly not that horrible, as a singer or a dancer. It was really quite worrying. I saw Mr. Schue talking to him after our dancing lesson, and I'm afraid our loveable, yet occasionally short-sighted coach wants him to become a permanent fixture in the New Directions." Rachel looked to Kurt for a reaction to that, so Kurt didn't give her one.

"The Cheerios decided they would rather go to Regionals and watch Brittany die being shot out of a cannon than perform with us, so they're off the team," Mercedes said sassily, but Kurt knew she was sad to see Quinn go. They hadn't been as close since Quinn moved back in with her mom, but they were still friends.

"Sam and Finn had a minor fight, a little bit of a third-grade shoving match. Surprisingly, it wasn't over Quinn, but rather over leadership of the Glee club," Rachel said, and Kurt almost rolled his eyes.

"Ever consider it could be both?" he asked, and Rachel looked like she was processing that, so Mercedes continued with the story.

"The guys, _all_ of them, did the number _She's Not There_ by..." Mercedes paused like she couldn't remember.

"The Zombies," Blaine supplied helpfully. When it came to music, Blaine knew everything. When it came to McKinley High drama, Blaine was lost.

"Right. I hate to break it to you guys, especially you, bo, but they were amazing. _All_ of them. It was actually kind of scary. The acting, the singing, the dancing, all of it was really good." Mercedes looked guilty even saying it, so Kurt laid his hand over hers for one brief moment, a habit he had apparently picked up from Blaine judging by her look of surprise.

"I'm _okay_, Mercedes, really," Kurt promised.

"Then came the disastrous day," Rachel continued, clearly done processing. "The puck heads we call the hockey team slushied all the guys when they were walking down the hallway still in their zombie makeup-"

"Poetic justice," Kurt added, then acted chagrined at Rachel's glare for interrupting her. "Sorry."

"Anyway, apparently they didn't like that very much, and they all quit Glee, thinking that if they all quit, Coach Beiste would give in and have to let them play. She hasn't yet, and I don't think she's going to." Kurt took a moment to process that himself.

"She won't. Even if she has no other option, she won't. I'm sorry, girls, but I don't think the football team has a hope."

"I have an idea," Rachel began, but Kurt stopped her before she could go any further.

"I know, but I don't like it," Kurt said firmly.

"How do you know what it is?" Blaine asked, sounding rather lost and a little left out. Kurt grabbed his hand under the table for a second and squeezed before looking back at the girls.

"You want to play as the four additional guys. The two of you, Zizes, and Tina. Am I wrong?" Kurt asked confidently, because he knew he wasn't.

"Homeboy and/or girl say what?" Mercedes asked, looking between Rachel and Kurt. Obviously she hadn't thought of it yet or gotten it from the telepathic looks Rachel had been sending her.

"Well, yes, that was the idea, but we wouldn't actually play, except maybe for Lauren," Rachel clarified. "When they yell 'go'-"

"The term is 'hike', Rachel," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. Even he knew that.

"Ow!" Blaine said. "What was that for?" he glared at Rachel, who had obviously kicked him under the table.

"Sorry, I thought that was Kurt's leg," she said, looking at him with big, apologetic brown eyes, that made him sigh and wave it off with a hand. "So, when they yell 'hike,' we just lie down on the field. For rule purposes, we're playing, but we run no risk of getting hurt." Kurt nodded.

"You may have something going for you, except for the fact that most idiots that play football are barbarians and might just step on you for fun," Kurt pointed out, remembering how Azimio and Karofsky had pushed Tina around. "I still don't like it."

"Kurt, it's our only hope," Rachel said, looking up at him with the same big brown eyes. Thankfully, he was immune to pleading eyes, unless they happened to be hazel and belonged to the boy next to him.

"I can't forbid you from doing it, Rachel, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Kurt, we're doing it, and that's _final_." Rachel's big brown eyes changed back to their normal size and level of pleading.

"Isn't anyone going to ask _me_ about this?" Mercedes asked. "Or Tina?"

"Not worried about Zizes?" Kurt asked, making the girls laugh.

"Not even a little bit," Mercedes said. "She's a wrestler. She loves whooping ass."

"Mercedes, please?" Rachel asked, turning the eyes back on and turning them at Mercedes. "It's our only hope."

"That's going to be the line you use on everyone, isn't it?" Mercedes asked, and Rachel smiled. "All right, homegirl, you got yourself a third. All we need to do is convince Tina, and then convince the guys to let us actually do it."

Kurt snorted. Like the prideful guys would ever admit they needed the girls' help. "Good luck."

* * *

><p>"You're not okay, are you?" Blaine asked as he made himself comfortable on Kurt's bed next to him. The two had just gotten back from the Lima Bean and Kurt was a little annoyed that Rachel planned to go along with her stupid idea that would end up getting someone hurt.<p>

"Okay about what?" Kurt asked, taking off his scarf and hanging it in his closet.

"Your coach wanting Karofsky to be a part of the Glee club," Blaine said, and how did he knew him so well?

"It doesn't really bother me," Kurt lied. "I knew someone was going to replace me so that they would have enough people for Regionals. I just never imagined it would be Karofsky."

"Kurt," Blaine said, and in four letters managed to compel Kurt to look at him. "Karofsky is not _replacing _you. No one could ever replace you, not vocally and certainly not personality-wise. The New Directions love you. They don't even _want_ to replace you."

"Then why is he being welcomed with open arms by the guys?" Kurt asked, a little bit angry and trying not to tear up. "Why do the same guys that promised they would protect me from him buddy up to him the moment he proves his worth? Because they need someone who can be there for me what I won't!"

"Kurt. You can't be there for them, and they know that," Blaine said soothingly, patting the bed next to him. Kurt sighed as he sat, leaning into Blaine.

"If they know that they why are they welcoming the very reason I can't be there?" Kurt asked, and Blaine sighed, rubbing his back.

"They love you, Kurt," Blaine said, and Kurt knew it was true. "Maybe that's exactly why they're doing this. Maybe they think that if they change Karofsky, you'll go back to McKinley." Blaine didn't sound particularly fond of this idea.

"How could I ever go back?" Kurt whispered, as much as he wanted to.

"It's all up to you, Kurt," Blaine said, "but they're not trying to replace you. Why would they every want to replace you?" he added in a whisper, and Kurt was just about to ask what he meant by that when Charlie popped his head in.

"Hey I heard you guys get back... Am I interrupting something?" Charlie looked from a teary-eyed Kurt to a serious-looking Blaine to the way Kurt was leaning on him, and around again.

"No, of course not." Blaine straightened up enough that Kurt could no longer rest comfortably on his shoulder.

"_No, of course not_," Charlie mimicked at a range that was far too high for Blai. "You two are almost as impossible as Neff. Speaking of which, I plan to go about my idea for poking them out of the closet solo, thank you very much."

"I noticed. How did you manage to rig the confetti and included sound effect?" Blaine asked, sounding curious in spite of himself.

"I got some nerd I banged freshman year to do it," Charlie said with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, it's working, isn't it? Did you see how red Jeff was?"

"I think it would have worked much better if you had waited a few more seconds before entering," Kurt added, and Charlie's eyes snapped to him.

"What do you mean? I'm great at dramatic entrances." Charlie pouted.

"I meant Nick looked about ready to say something to Jeff right before you came in. It would have been interesting to know what he was going to say." Charlie threw himself back on Chris' bed.

"Dammit. Must life continually thwart me?" Charlie demanded of the ceiling.

"Yes," Kurt and Blaine answered at the same time, before smiling at each other.

"Do you two have to be so cute and cuddly over there?" Charlie asked the ceiling, clearly annoyed. Blaine huffed, but removed his arm from where it had been wound around Kurt's waist, much to his displeasure.

"Happy?" Blaine asked their tyrant.

"It's a start. I would be much happier if you would help me with Neff," Charlie said with a frown, but Blaine ignored it.

"No. I told you people need to come out of the closet at their own pace." Blaine sounded firm on the issue... so of course Charlie ignored him.

"Well, glacial pace isn't exactly my style, babe," Charlie said. "But alas, this is one adventure I will have to navigate solo. Goodbye, my dears." Charlie managed to dramatically get off the bed, clutch his heart like it hurt, and leave the room all within his little speech.

"Why do we spend time with him again?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello, people that want to kill me! I know I'm a horrible updater and I'm sorry, and anyone that is still reading this story is amazing and wonderfully patient :) I love you all and the reviews I get make my day. I got horrible writer's block on this, and tonight this all magically wrote itself for me. Yay for no more writer's block! Boo for the fact that it took me months to get rid of it. On the bright side, it's SUMMER over here, which means good things for all of us. I get to relax, and you guys will hopefully get reviews more than once every two months!**

**Yikes. I really do suck, huh?**

**Anyway, Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>_'Bills, Bills, Bills'_ by Destiny's Child  
><em>'Hero<em>' from Disney's _Starstruck_ (originally sung by Sterling Knight)  
><em>'Thriller'<em> by Michael Jackson  
><em>'Heads Will Roll<em>' by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's  
><em>'She's Not There'<em> by the Zombies

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I hope it fulfills all my promises from last chapter. For once, I will remember to add that I don't own Glee, though I'm sure you guys knew that.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	17. Brains!

"It's official," Kurt announced as they sat down for dinner. "In three days, Rachel, Mercedes, Tina, and Zizes are all going to die on a football field and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it."

"You could try being a little optimistic," Blaine offered, but the look Kurt threw him was so deadly he didn't dare say anything else.

"How did they manage to swing that?" Wes asked, not having been filled in on the rest of what had happened at McKinley. "_Why_ did they manage to swing that is a better question? How does that help with the lack of cheerleaders? Why did the coach, or their parents, for that matter, agree to let them play? They could get seriously injured."

"It's a long story, Wes," Kurt said with a sigh. "The Cheerio issue remains unresolved. As for your last question, the coach let them play _because_ their parents let them play and signed permission slips. No one knows how they managed to convince their parents."

"_Somebody_ has to know, even if it's just-"

"Shut up, Charlie," Kurt said, too worried about his girls to bother with Charlie being... Charlie.

"-them," Charlie completed, ignoring Kurt's comment. However, when Kurt turned to glare at him to shut him up, Charlie was staring at the opposite end of where the Warblers were spread out. His targets seemed to be Nick and Jeff. Uh-oh.

"Charlie?" Charlie mumbled affirmatively. "Why are you staring at Nick and Jeff?"

"Did you seriously think I had given up on Neff?" Charlie asked, and Kurt sighed again.

"Of course not."

"So what are you doing about the cheerleaders?" Wes asked. With the information he had gleaned by fortuitous circumstances (he really hadn't been spying), Kurt had to wonder if he was purposefully asking about the cheerleaders in dedication to his act.

"The Glee club is not only going to be the nine people playing the game, they're also going to be the nine people doing the half time show," Kurt replied.

"Your school really is crazy, isn't it?" Kurt just shrugged in reply to Wes' question.

"Unreliable ass nerds," Charlie muttered under his breath, still focused firmly on Neff.

Just as Kurt was about to question what Charlie was up to, music started playing through the speakers. Soft and indistinguishable at first, the music slowly swelled, and as it got louder, the amiable chat in the cafeteria got quieter. When it was loud enough to be recognized, Kurt realized the song with horror. The two voices were obviously Nick and Jeff's, and they were singing _Drops of Jupiter_ by Train. Judging by the quality, it was something they had sung in private, and somehow Charlie had gotten a hold of it.

_Now that you're back in the atmosphere  
>With drops of Jupiter in your hair, hey, hey<br>You act like summer and walk like rain  
>Reminds me that there's time to change, hey, hey<em>

"Charlie," Kurt hissed, "how dare you?"

"Don't be such a pussy, Kurt," Charlie replied, looking over for reactions from Nick and Jeff. Jeff was bright red and avoiding eye contact with Nick, who was trying to act nonchalant, but was loosing the facade as more and more people were looking.

_Tell me, did you said across the sun?  
>Did you make it to the Milky Way<br>To see the lights all faded  
>And that heaven is overrated?<em>

"Charlie, this is _horrible_," Blaine whispered in agreement, but before Blaine could really start reaming him out, his phone buzzed, and he turned his attention to it immediately.

_Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?  
>One without a permanent scar?<br>And did you miss me while you were  
>Looking for yourself out there?<em>

"Where did you even get this?" Kurt asked Charlie, furious, as the song continued playing audibly, and almost the entire cafeteria was staring at Neff. For a rather large school, word got around fast, and everyone knew the Warblers, as a group and as individuals.

_Now that you're back from that soul vacation  
>Tracing your way through the constellation, hey, hey<br>You check out Mozart while you do tae-bo  
>Reminds me that there's room to grow, hey, hey<em>

"Caught them singing it one day sophomore year," Charlie said with a shrug. Kurt realized he didn't know what year Charlie was, and mentally noted to ask Blaine later. Now did not seem the appropriate time to ask Charlie. "I figured it might be useful at some point."

_Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-friend chicken?  
>Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong<br>Can you imagine no first dance  
>Freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation<br>The best soy latte that you ever had... and me_

"Charlie, how do you not see this is _wrong_?" Kurt asked, noting that Jeff's eyes were looking a little bit glassy. "You don't know their relationship, you don't know how long they've been together, and you don't know _why _they're in the closet. Couldn't you just have left them there?"

_Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?  
>Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day<br>And head back toward the Milky Way?  
>And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?<br>Was it everything you wanted to find?  
>And did you miss me while you were<br>Looking for yourself out there?_

"Relax. Everything will work out, it always does." Kurt agreed with the philosophy, but he hated the way everyone was staring at Neff. Thankfully, they hadn't sung the full song, and it was over quickly. Whispers and chatter broke out and, knowing it was about them, Jeff hurried out of the cafeteria, eyes suspiciously wet. Nick followed him.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is wrong with you?" Blaine demanded of Charlie later. Kurt had been on the phone with Rachel, laughing hysterically. Apparently, the girls had been attending the football teams practices to keep up 'appearances', and the practices weren't nearly as glamorous as they had expected.<p>

"Would you relax? Why is everyone getting in my business about this?" Charlie asked, lazily typing something into his computer and not making eye contact with Blaine.

"Can't you see that you've gone too far?" Blaine asked, and when Charlie rolled his eyes, Blaine got annoyed. "You always do this, Charlie. I don't care how much you tease Kurt and I, but stay out of everyone elses' serious business."

"Speaking of you and Kurt," Charlie began, completely changing the subject with little regard for subtlety and making Blaine want to bash his head off the wall, "would you like to tell me who Jeremiah is?" Charlie stored his computer under his bed and stood up, placing his hands on his hips in a stance that reminded Blaine immediately of Kurt. Maybe it was just because they were talking about him.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine said, silently cursing the fact that Charlie always found out about everything.

"Really? Because you seem to have been texting him an awful lot," Charlie said, pulling Blaine's phone out of his pocket. Blaine patted his own pockets frantically. Empty.

"How did you get that? You pick-pocketed me?" Blaine demanded, and Charlie gave him a wicked grin.

"It wasn't very challenging. All I had to do was wait for you to be distracted with Kurt, and _bingo_. Speaking of Kurt, _what the hell are you doing_?" Charlie demanded, and he had gone from calm and cheeky to almost-yelling in the space of a breath.

"Now I _really_ don't know what you're talking about," Blaine said, catching his phone when Charlie threw it to him.

"You and Kurt have your... messy little flirty thing. So why the hell are you _cheating_ on him?" Charlie demanded dramatically, and Blaine had to laugh, even though he was mad at Charlie for what he was doing with Nick and Jeff.

"Charlie, I'm not _cheating_ on Kurt. Mainly because there's nothing between Kurt and I to _cheat_ on. Even if there _was_ something there, I'm pretty sure that ship has _sailed_." Blaine was admittedly upset, but he was pretty sure everything between he and Kurt was platonic now. He had been waiting for Kurt to make a move when they were watching _White Christmas_ (he didn't feel right kissing Kurt without giving him warning, after what had happened with Karofsky. They had been close enough that no kind of warning would have been possible, except for verbal, and that probably would have ruined the moment), and Kurt didn't. It was very clear that Kurt wasn't interested.

"Oh, you stupid, _stupid_ boy," Charlie said with a sigh. "Either way, that's no excuse to _move on_. You have to fight for him!"

"Charlie, I'm allowed to move on from a relationship that never existed in the first place. And Jeremiah is nice. We've been out for coffee a few times. He's charming, funny, _cute_. I don't see your issue with me being happy." Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I don't have an issue with you being happy. I have an issue with you being happy with someone _other than Kurt_!" Charlie sighed, and sat back down on his bed. "Non-existent-God, you're an idiot."

"You know who's not happy?" Blaine asked, trying to return to their original topic. He just hoped Charlie hadn't read some of the more sappy and awkwardly flirty texts he had sent Jeremiah. "_Jeff_," Blaine continued when Charlie ignored him. "Go apologize to him. _Now_."

"What? Only concerned about Jeff?" Blaine should be concerned about Nick, he knew that, but Jeff was obviously the one wanting to come out and be openly together, and Nick was obviously the one holding them back. He felt worse for Jeff.

"Is Nick the one who left the cafeteria in tears? No. Go apologize to Jeff," Blaine said firmly, and Charlie sighed again, standing up.

"Fine. Let it be known I am doing so under protest." Charlie would, at some point, realize he had gone too far. He just wasn't good at acknowledging his mistakes. Everyone knew that (except Kurt, but he was still new).

"And _you are not allowed to sleep with him!_" Blaine added as Charlie walked out the door. The last thing he needed was Charlie trying to bang Jeff when he was emotionally vulnerable.

"I make no promises!" Charlie said as he headed down the hall, but Blaine knew he wouldn't do it. He actually did care, in his own little way.

* * *

><p>Kurt wrung his hands nervously as he waited for Blaine to show up. He didn't come home as often as he would have liked, but it would have <em>killed<em> him not to be at the big game, even if it was in support of people he had never expected to be on the football team. Still, he couldn't help but be worried for his girls.

Blaine was punctual as usual, arriving at exactly 7:30 and knocking on the door. Kurt threw it open and hugged him, scared half-out-of-his-mind.

"Woah there," Blaine said, but strong arms wrapped around his back. "Their plan isn't fool-proof, but they're not stupid. They'll be all right. Maybe Zizes will even get rip some testosterone-fueled football guys apart. That'll be fun to watch."

Kurt let go, but he was still nervous as anything. "What if one of them gets stepped on or hurt? What if one of them is stupid and decides to try and play when they're not strong enough and they get tackled and hurt and-"

"Kurt," Blaine said firmly, "you're over-thinking this. The guys wouldn't let them do this if they didn't think the girls would be okay, you know that. And as their current and previous boyfriends, they're even more protective than you are. They'll be fine, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Kurt said automatically, but he _was_ feeling better. Blaine always made him feel better. "Hey," Kurt smiled at his sudden realization, "you're wearing your scarf." He hadn't phrased that very well, but Blaine knew what he meant.

"Of course I am. Warmest, most stylish, and most football-related item of clothing I own. I figured it would be perfect." Blaine was dressed well for someone who spent most of their high school career in either summer clothes or a uniform. He was wearing the same dark coat he had worn when they went for coffee with Mercedes and Rachel, so Kurt couldn't see much of his shirt, but he was wearing the scarf Kurt had given him for Christmas (smart choice), and a pair of jeans that very nicely accentuated Blaine's... ass-ets. There was just one thing...

"You have it tied wrong," Kurt said, untying it for him in a heartbeat. "It'll fall off your neck in an instant like that." Kurt retied it with nimble fingers, trying to ignore what Blaine's proximity was doing to his heart rate.

"I was wondering what was wrong," Blaine admitted, making Kurt laugh. "It's been sliding everywhere since I left the dorm."

Finished retying Blaine's scarf, Kurt stepped away, ignoring the part of him that was yelling at him for it. "Ready to go?"

"Where are your parents?" Blaine asked, looking around like he expected them to appear like a clown from a jack-in-the-box.

"My dad went early to ream Coach Beiste out about the girls playing. He's really worried about them, considering they're all around so much he practically considers them his daughters. Carole went with him." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Do overprotective-ness and excessive nerves run in the family or something?" Blaine asked. "Honestly, they'll be fine."

"Somehow, your promise didn't make me any less worried," but it did.

* * *

><p>Despite the difference in arrival time, Blaine and Kurt ended up right next to Carole and Burt. As they arrived only minutes before the game was set to start (they had stopped for coffee), they were in the middle of the stands, but could still see clearly. Setting their coffees between their feet, Blaine and Kurt cheered along with everyone else in the crowd as the lights came on. Kurt resisted the urge to scan the field for Finn (old habits die hard), and then for Karofsky (even though, logically, he knew Karofsky wouldn't be in uniform this time).<p>

Kurt's heart skipped a beat (and not in the good way) when he say the football players (for once, sans letter jackets. It was an unusual sight) approaching Finn as he stretched. He had horrible thoughts for one moment, but logically knew that Karofsky and Azimio couldn't do _anything _to Finn in front of a full crowd. Logic didn't seem to be winning out over his nerves.

Kurt's heart skipped a few more beats when he saw the girls head across the field, looking rather silly in equipment made for guys, but holding their helmets proudly under their arms. If he had been in a better mood, Kurt would have laughed at the fact that Rachel was 1 (he hadn't even been small enough for 1 during sophomore year. He had been 3). Zizes was the only one who looked mildly ready to play, even though the Tina and Rachel were wearing war paint and Mercedes could probably do some series damage if she set her mind to it.

Kurt couldn't see the football players' faces from the side of the stands he was on, but he knew they must be shocked. Who wouldn't be? All the guys excitedly rushed the girls, and Kurt was slightly saddened to notice that Finn only tapped Rachel on the helmet. Puck was the one who was talking to her, and Kurt made a mental note to remind her she swore never to go down that road again.

Speaking of mental notes, "what year is Charlie?" Kurt asked Blaine, who looked thrown by the question, as if it had come out of nowhere.

"He's a senior, and he deems this should be his most productive year for causing mischief. I think that's the reason he's doing what he's doing with Nick and Jeff." Kurt decided not to get into that conversation now, returning to his observations of the field. The other team looked fearsome and prepared, with almost three times as many guys in orange, white, and black uniforms as the Titans had people in red and white. This was _not_ going to be pretty.

Kurt's stomach clenched and he regretted drinking the coffee he had set between his feet as the girls and guys entered the huddle. The girls didn't strictly _need_ to be in the huddle, but it helped them to look like a real team. His nerves got worse as the boys pointed out the girls' spots to them, and had they really not gone over this?

Rachel bent one leg and extended the other in a dance position, while Tina squatted like a frog, and Kurt resisted the urge to grab Blaine's hand and squeeze it until it lost circulation. They would be fine, they would be fine, they would be fine.

Finn yelled 'hut!' and Rachel and Tina laid down on the field. Zizes stopped the guy opposite her successfully with a shove, which didn't surprise Kurt at all. Mercedes stood up as well, but mostly stayed out of the way. Nobody tackled her. Finn brought the ball back and snapped it to Sam, but it was intercepted, and the other team's player ran for the touchdown, followed by Sam all the way down the field. The Titans fans groaned and whined, Carole put her head in her hands, and Coach Beiste threw down her clipboard. Possibly the only happy person rooting for the Titans in the stands, Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. The girls really would be okay.

Not in the least to Kurt's surprise, the game only got worse from there. The kicker made the kick (it was a small kick anyway), and the first quarter ended 7-0. Blaine was hissing and groaning appropriately with the rest of the stands, including Carole, who seemed to know more about football than Kurt had expected (to be fair, she _was_ one of the wonderful moms who attended all of her child's sporting events. Kurt just didn't know if she would fully grasp football or not. He certainly didn't, and he had _played_ football), so Kurt had some idea as to what was going on, but mostly he was watching (and worrying for) the girls.

Within the first five minutes of the second quarter, the opposing team had scored another touchdown, and the Titans had to focus more on defense now and find a way to make the ultimate comeback later. Apparently, Coach Beiste was thinking along the same lines, because the Titans managed to hold them to three more points (another simple kick. Kurt was thoroughly unimpressed with their kicker).

Kurt's worst nightmare came to be in the last three minutes of the second quarter. It was third down, and the opposing team had ten yards to go before they made another touchdown to make the score 24-0 (well, definitely 23-0, but Kurt had no doubt the kicker could make another easy kick. He was very consistent, even if he didn't have Kurt's flair).

Kurt had calmed down for the most part, leaning into Blaine as Blaine talked about football and Kurt half-listened. He caught a few words here and there ('downs', 'yards', 'halfback', etc.), but the point of the lecture was totally lost on him.

Finn got tackled almost immediately after the hut, and the opposing player lunging for the ball fumbled. While the teams were fighting each other and getting back on their feet, the ball was just lying there in front of Artie, Tina, and Rachel. Coach Beiste was screaming for someone to pick up the ball, but Kurt was pretty sure she never intended what happened next. Tina stood up and stooped down to grab the ball, running for it and ducking between players. Kurt was cheering as Burt and Carole yelled next to him, but he was more surprised than anything, and his stomach was churning again. Certainly they didn't have the... They wouldn't tackle a girl, right?

Wrong. The opposing team's 4 tackled her to the ground, landing on top of her, and Kurt wasn't sure who took off the fastest: Mike or the paramedics. Either way, Mike got there first, and the crowd was silent as everyone waited to see if she was okay. Kurt had his hands tightly over his mouth, and _he_ probably wasn't breathing. He couldn't see what the paramedics were doing because of Mike, but please, let her be breathing.

The atmosphere was tense until Tina stood up, supported, and then everyone clapped, but the crowd was definitely more subdued. That had been scary. Blaine was rubbing his hand over Kurt's back, face set, and Kurt held his hands together in front of him, trying to relax. What would Rachel think of her great idea now?

Finn seemed to be holding some sort of conference with Sam, Puck, and Rachel. Kurt saw Finn and Puck fist bump. Moments later, Finn rushed off. How could he do that when they needed nine people to play and they would only have eight without him?

"You okay?" Blaine asked, eyes still on the field as Sam stepped into the quarterback position for the last three minutes of the first half.

"I'm not the one you should be concerned about," Kurt snapped at him, but Blaine didn't react. He felt bad immediately after, but (this was childish, but he didn't care at the moment) Blaine had _promised_ the girls wouldn't get hurt and one had.

"Tina's fine. You, on the other hand, are shaking like a leaf. No more coffee for you, sir." Blaine was clearly trying to tease, but Kurt was _so_ not in the teasing mood.

"This isn't funny, Blaine. She could have been seriously hurt." Blaine sighed, reaching over to rub circles on Kurt's back again.

"I know, but I think the guys have realized this. They seem to have a plan," Blaine gestured to where Sam had just gotten tackled as quarterback. "Ten bucks says it's not a very _good_ plan, but it's a plan."

Three minutes passed without Finn, Puck, or Tina on the field, but nothing interesting happened, and Kurt felt like hyperventilating when half time started. Blaine was still rubbing his back, but it wasn't helping. What the hell were they doing out there?

"Oh my gosh, Blaine, look!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly when he caught a flash of blonde hair. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany all trotted into the girls' locker room, and Finn followed them to the locker rooms, victorious. Everyone but Puck was now accounted for, as Tina had been thoroughly checked out by the medics and deemed OK to play.

"I think I have a worse surprise for you," Blaine said a few minutes later, looking back at the locker room, and Kurt gasped when the football players came out of the locker rooms in uniforms and zombie make-up. _All_ of the football players. "I don't see you- know-who."

"I wouldn't expect Voldemort to be at a football game in Lima," Kurt said automatically, scanning the guys for 77. Please don't let him be out there, _please_ don't let him be out there.

"Ha ha," Blaine replied, but his heart wasn't in it either. The girls poured out as well, and smoke started drifting across the field. Still, no 77.

_Off with your head  
>To<em>_ dance, dance, dance till you're dead  
>I'm off, off, off with your head<br>To__ dance, dance, dance till you're dead  
>I'm off, off, off with your head<em>

The girls were picked up and dragged off as they started singing and the band started playing. Kurt had performed in many a Cheerio's number alongside that band (_4 Minutes _and_ Fergalicious_ to name a few), and the memories made him smile. Zombie claws that looked more like GaGa paws were lifted, and the girls were too. In that make-up, Rachel looked astoundingly like her mother.

**_It's close to midnight_**  
><strong><em>And something evil's lurkin' in the dark<em>**  
><strong><em>Under the moonlight<em>**  
><strong><em>You see a sight that almost stops your heart<em>**

Artie was wheeled forward and some of the guys crawled or zombie-shuffled forward as Artie sang the first verse. This was the most positive reaction a Glee club number had ever gotten, and Kurt's heart hurt a little that he wasn't out on that field with them.

**_You try to scream_**  
><strong><em>But terror takes the sound before you make it<em>**  
><em>Heads will roll, heads will roll<em>  
><strong><em>You start to freeze<em>**  
><strong><em>As horror looks you right between the eyes<em>**  
><strong><em>You're paralyzed<em>**

**_'Cause this is thriller!_**  
><strong><em>Thriller night!<em>**  
><strong>And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike!<strong>  
><strong><em>You know it's thriller!<em>**  
><strong><em>Thriller night!<em>**  
><strong>You're fightin' for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight!<strong>

Mr. Schue had choreographed really well (Coach Beiste had probably helped. Anyone that could choreograph football plays could choreograph dance routines), and both the girls and the guys (both Glee and football) were doing a great job of sluggish, sloppy, and disjointed zombie movements. Mike was particularly good, not that that surprised Kurt at all, but the other person doing a great job was Finn, which surprised Kurt more than anything. Well, come to think of it, sluggish, sloppy, and disjointed was kind of how he _usually_ danced. The whole crowd was jumping, clapping, and cheering, waving foam fingers.

_Off with your head  
>To<em>_ dance, dance, dance till you're dead  
>I'm off, off, off with your head<br>To__ dance, dance, dance till you're dead_

Kurt's heart stuck in his throat as Karofsky (whom he had spotted standing near the base of the bleachers) pulled on his uniform and ran to join. The girls were dancing in front of the guys, all looking incredible in their zombie make-up, but he wasn't watching the performance anymore. He was watching as Karofsky ran onto the field and went straight to no one else but Finn. Finn, his own brother, grabbed his hand and clapped him supportively on the back. His _own damn brother_! Kurt had never hated and envied Karofsky more in his life as in that moment as he fell into the choreography easily, sticking out a little because he wasn't wearing make-up and a full football uniform, but dancing perfectly. He really _was _good.

Darkness falls across the land  
><span>The midnight hour is close at hand<span>  
><span>Creatures crawl in search of blood<span>  
><span>To terrorize y'alls neighborhood<span>  
><span>And though you fight to stay alive<span> _(Off with your head)  
><em>Your body starts to shiver _(Dance till your dead)  
><em>For no mortal can resist_ (Heads will roll, heads will roll)  
><em>The evil of the thriller _(Heads will roll, ohh)_

Kurt mimed the Thriller dance next to an ecstatic Carole as the boys and girls alike danced during Finn's monologue. Finn was doing a great job, but Kurt felt so betrayed he didn't even care. Karofsky was doing the moves so effortlessly, clearly he had found his calling: Kurt's spot in the New Directions. The Cheerios and football players started tumbling as Santana joined in with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' part.

_**(Thriller night)  
>'Cause this is thriller!<br>Thriller night!  
><strong>_**Girl I can feel you more than any ghost could ever dare try****!  
><strong>_**Thriller!  
>Thriller night!<br>**_**So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller tonight****!**

_Off with your head _**(Thriller night)  
><strong>_To dance, dance, dance till you're dead _**(Thriller night)  
><strong>_I'm off, off, off with your head _**(Thriller night)  
><strong>_To dance, dance, dance till you're dead _**(Thriller night)  
><strong>_I'm off, off, off with your head!_

He was feeling so betrayed, but he couldn't help dance along as the song wound down. The whole crowd was energized and dancing along, positively thrilled by the _Thriller_. Blaine was bopping along next to him, but kept shooting him glances that meant 'we'll talk later'. It was a familiar and unwelcome look. To fake some enthusiasm to avoid that talk, Kurt jumped up and down, clapping as they ended the song in poses. Because it wasn't his day, this, of course, turned out with him spilling the coffee between his feet all over his new shoes and the cuffs of his pants.

Karofsky high-fived and hugged almost everyone, and Kurt was feeling sick again.

* * *

><p>When the guys (just guys now, much to Kurt's relief) ran back out for the second half, they were all still in their zombie make-up (minus Karofsky. Anything Kurt could cling to that made Karofsky seem a bit less a part of the group and his replacement made him feel better). The guys on the other team looked a little unnerved, especially by the boys' actions (which were so far away Kurt couldn't distinguish them), and Kurt guessed that had been what Coach Beiste was going for. The girls (including the Cheerios, thankfully), and Artie were happily cheering from the sidelines. Kurt had no idea why Artie wasn't <em>playing<em> (after all, he was actually a football player), but he didn't care at this point. As long as the Titans won, so he didn't half to put up with Finn.

Sam scored the first touchdown of the game for the Titans a few minutes later, but the victory was soured by the fact that Karofsky's tackle was what had made it possible. Karofsky and Finn high-fived again, and Kurt felt like he was going to throw up.

"Excuse me," Kurt muttered as he pushed past Blaine and through the crowd. He couldn't handle watching his brother buddy-up to the bully that had sexually assaulted him and threatened to kill him. Sue him.

Kurt knew Blaine was following him because he could hear Blaine's feel crunch on the gravel as Kurt headed towards the parking lot and away from the noise of the game, but Blaine didn't say anything, so neither did Kurt.

Kurt settled near his least favorite part of William McKinley High School, and possibly one of the places in which he had spent the most time: the school dumpster nearest the parking lot. Not that it smelled particularly pleasant, or provided any comfort, he just needed something to rest his back on, and he didn't feel like making the trek to the school proper. He wasn't particularly concerned (at the moment) about the damage to his pants. They were last season anyway.

Blaine settled next to him without a word. He took a deep breath before asking, "It's Finn, isn't it? He's the reason the halftime show affected you so much. It's always been Finn."

"I don't have any residual feelings for Finn, if that's what your asking," Kurt snapped. Blaine didn't deserve to get the aftershocks of his anger, but he _had_ followed him off the bleachers. He probably expected it.

"That wasn't what I was implying. You had such trouble getting Finn to accept you as a friend, and later a brother, and you feel like he's accepting the person who drove you away with open arms." Blaine sounded perfectly calm, not even sympathetic.

"Isn't he?" Kurt demanded.

"Maybe," Blaine replied evenly. "Maybe he was just happy that Karofsky is starting to become a better person."

"But he's not!" Kurt exclaimed, but all the anger had left him, and he slumped, head falling to rest on Blaine's shoulder. "He only joined the halftime show once he was sure it would get a good reaction from the crowd. Despite the vendettas I have with them, I can admit that even the other football players were braver than him!"

"True, but Finn sees the best in people. That's why he can tolerate Rachel. He's also a little bit näive, he may consider this progress in the right direction." Blaine rested his head gently on top of Kurt's.

"He's so stupid," Kurt murmured.

"I know you only said that because you don't mean it," Blaine said, and Kurt could tell from his voice that he was smiling.

"I don't have feelings for him," Kurt said firmly, and he could tell Blaine was still smiling when he answered.

"I know you don't _now_, but you did and now he's your brother. While that may sound creepy to those who don't know the situation, it means you have a very special, very *strong* bond, and you feel like he's betrayed you." Blaine rested a hand on Kurt's.

"Hasn't he?" Kurt asked, and Blaine's shrug almost disrupted their delicate position.

"I don't know. Maybe he's doing this _for_ you. Maybe he thinks that if he can change Karofsky, you would go back to the New Directions." Kurt took the time to process that (totally realistic yet somehow impossible seeming) idea, and while he was, he heard Blaine murmur, "Would you?"

"I don't know," Kurt answered just as quietly. "I love Dalton, but the New Directions are my family." Blaine was silent. "It's not as if I have to choose right now," Kurt added, defending himself against Blaine's silence.

"Of course not," Blaine said, but his voice was too bright. Kurt had said the wrong thing. "Do you think you're ready to go back to the game?"

"Yes, I suppose," Kurt said, and almost before he had gotten the words out, Blaine was up and extending a hand to help Kurt up in typical gentleman fashion. Kurt scoffed as he accepted the help. Blaine really did love football.

* * *

><p>When Kurt and Blaine returned to the field (after a quick-change in the car by Kurt, who always had spare clothes with him, and a jaunt to Starbucks to get Kurt more coffee. Blaine had protested, but Kurt had pulled out to puppy-dog eyes, and he had given in), there were twelve seconds left in the fourth quarter, and it was 24-21, favoring whatever team the Titans were playing.<p>

"We missed half the game," Blaine grumbled as they climbed back onto the bleachers, reclaiming their spots next to Burt and Carole, Kurt didn't dignify his complaint with a response.

"Where have you boys been?" Carole asked in that motherly tone that made them feel bad for upsetting her. "I was worried. Your father would have been worried," she added to Kurt, "but he was too focused." Kurt laughed and smiled.

"I spilled some coffee on myself, so I had to change plants and Blaine and I went to get more coffee," he replied honestly, holding up his cup just in case she didn't believe him.

"Well, I think you arrived just in time for the good part," Carole said with a smile. Blaine _had_ to figure out the code for Significant Eye Contact in the Hummel-Hudson family.

Coach Beiste called a time-out as the clock ran down to eleven seconds. The team huddled, and spirits weren't very high on the Titans side. Kurt didn't understand why the players started saying '_Brains!'_ as the two teams broke huddles and faced each other.

"Is this normal during a Titans football game?" Blaine asked, and Kurt laughed.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing." The players on the other team looked suitably unnerved, again. The Glee girls started after a few minutes, and so did Coach Beiste and her helpers (technically, they were assistant coaches, but Kurt doubted they did anything but paperwork).

It took about ten seconds after that for the crowd to take over, chanting and getting to their feet. It became less of a moan, and more of a chant as everyone simultaneously realized what they were supposed to be doing, even though they didn't understand why.

"Brains! Brains!" Blaine started chanting along, and Kurt died laughing.

"You're an idiot," he said between bouts of laughter.

"At least I'm having fun!" Blaine said, sticking his tongue out childishly. "Brains! Brains!" he started chanting louder, putting his feet on the actual bleacher so he could see what was happening.

"So short," Kurt said with a laugh, but peer pressure eventually got to him. "Brains! Brains! Brains!"

"Oh my God," Blaine stopped chanting. "The quarterback fumbled his snap. We might actually have a chance." Finn ran for the ball, as if he had been expecting this, and got it over the line just as the buzzed sounded. The Titan fans went wild. The band was playing and Mr. Schue was yelling, and Kurt was bouncing again. Yes, he could be mad at Finn, but he could still be happy for him at the same time.

"We did it!" Kurt yelled excitedly, but no one could hear him but Blaine, Carole and his dad were yelling so loud, family pride bursting forth for the first time.

Blaine hopped down to hug him, lifting him off his feet and making him giggle. "We did it," Blaine said hugging him close, and in the moment Blaine was letting him down, all Kurt could think way 'kiss me'. Blaine didn't get the vibe though, and turned forward again to join in on the cheering.

* * *

><p>It was agreed that Blaine could stay over as long as 'everything remained appropriate'. Kurt had blushed when his dad said that, but Blaine was still so respectful (was the word he used. Kurt would call it 'scared') of his dad that he just said, "Yes, sir." It probably didn't even register. Carole winked at Kurt.<p>

Finn got home from that after party at around midnight, and Kurt was waiting for him, perched on his bed with two cups of frequently-reheated-warm-milk, ready to congratulate him.

"Dude!" Finn said, and Kurt put down the mugs just in time for Finn to pull him to his feet and grab him in a hug. "We won the championship! We totally did it!"

"Congratulations, Finn," Kurt said, hugging him back, and this was probably the longest amount of time Finn had ever allowed physical contact between them to last (except for maybe _Just the Way You Are_, but this was a lot closer). It made him both sad and proud at the same time.

"Thanks for coming home for it. Really, I mean it," Finn said seriously, before he downed his lukewarm milk in one gulp and grinned with a full milk moustache, sitting on his bed with a bounce.

"You are a _child_," Kurt said fondly as he grabbed a tissue from next to Finn's bed and wiped his upper lip with it.

"Nah, I'm just excited." Finn grinned. "We won the championship! Do you know how awesome Monday's going to be?"

"Probably fairly awesome," Kurt said with a smile. "After all, the world's worst people did the right thing this time." Finn wasn't often a master of subtlety, but even _he _caught on to the bitter undertone to Kurt's words.

"Is this about Karofsky?" Kurt nodded. Might as well get the true topic out of the way. "Dude, I know it may seem weird, but he's been _awesome_ lately. I mean, it was his idea to do the practice number, and he was in the halftime show-"

"Once he realized it was receiving a good reaction," Kurt pointed out the same thing to Finn that he had to Blaine, but Finn ignored it.

"He might even be joining Glee! I think he's changed, Kurt." Finn's big, warm brown eyes were messing with Kurt's head again. He had done so many stupid things because of those eyes and he was determined not to do so this time.

"Finn?" Kurt began, and Finn nodded, gesturing to Kurt's warm milk. Kurt nodded, knowing his question was 'Can I drink that', before continuing. "Is this some misguided attempt to get me to return to McKinley?"

"I, well, you... yeah. We miss you, dude." Kurt sighed.

"Don't call me dude." He hadn't reprimanded him the first few times, but he _hated_ that word. "And I miss you all too, Finn, but Dalton's safer for me. Even if Karofsky has changed, and I'm not entirely convinced he has, there are still a hundred other jocks. Mr. Schue can't force every one of them to join Glee club to make the school safe for me. Do I wish he could? Of course. Is it realistic? Of course not."

"We can make the school safe for you. Puck, Sam, Mike, and I." Kurt sighed again.

"I don't need a secret service, or a ring of bodyguards. I need a zero-tolerance bullying policy, and the only place I'm going to get that is at Dalton." Finn looked unconvinced. "Dad and Carole just put down a ton more money for another semester at Dalton. I'm not going to waste that, Finn. I'm happy there."

"What's better? Dalton or McKinley?" Finn asked, and Kurt knew this would be a tricky question.

"Both have their advantages, Finn, but Dalton is the best place for me right now, and Dalton is where I'm staying." Kurt made sure to be firm, but not harsh. It was the tone taken with a stubborn puppy.

"Is this about that short dude?" Finn asked.

"Finn, I _know_ you know his name. He lived here for a week!" Finn rolled his eyes, a habit Kurt regretted passing on to him.

"Whatever."

"And no, this is not about Blaine. I wouldn't give up on the New Directions for a romance," _no matter how wonderful he is_, "especially one that doesn't even exist," Kurt said with a soft smile.

"Are you going to stay there for the rest of high school?" Finn asked, and the best answer Kurt had for him was a shrug. They had never really discussed the future when he had first applied to Dalton, and paying for the next semester (which was less than two weeks away) seemed like the natural next step. Senior year had never been brought up. "That would suck."

"Well, maybe for you," Kurt said lightly, sitting down on Finn's bed next to him. "I do like Dalton, though. Everyone there is crazy, yes, but they're all absolutely insane in an utterly wonderful way." Kurt smiled. "I have so many friends there, people I wouldn't want to leave."

"So you'd leave us?" Finn asked. "That's not fair."

"I don't know what's going to happen, Finn!" Kurt exclaimed, trying not to get frustrated with his brother. "All I know is that tonight you won a championship game, and I'm very proud of you." Kurt gave him one last quick, awkward-because-they're-sitting hug and left.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That's it for today, folks. Some (well, actually **_**lots of**_**) angst and some brotherly love. Charlie actually having a personality flaw (I know y'all love him, but he does need some depth. And he'll figure things out pretty fast). Some Neff. A lot of narration this chapter (sorry, but that football game was a pain in the butt to write). All-in-all, not so bad.**

**Songs Used/Mentioned:  
><strong>_'Drops of Jupiter'_ by Train  
><em>'ThrillerHeads Will Roll'_ by Michael Jackson/the Yeah Yeah Yeah's (performed by the Glee Cast. I know the parts are confusing, but you guys know this one.)  
><em>'4 Minutes'<em> by Madonna (mentioned)  
><em>'Fergalicious'<em> by Fergie (mentioned)  
><em>'Just the Way You Are'<em> by Bruno Mars (mentioned)

**Reviews are Love.**


	18. Meet Jeremiah

**A/N: More happiness in this chapter, less angst. Some canon references (but no actual canon), some Klaine cuteness (my personal favorite scene... dammit Chris!), a little bit of brotherly love, something very risky that will possibly make you hate me (not necessarily in that order)... Read on. Oh, and I made up a bunch of stuff about Jeremiah. His character wasn't around enough for me to use just what we know. And I made him a little more sympathetic (hopefully). Because in reality, I just wanted to punch him. And for Griffin, think (Edmonton Oil Kings' #8) Griffin Reinhart's shorter twin.**

* * *

><p>"Sue's going to <em>kill<em> someone," Kurt announced once the whole family had gathered for breakfast. His dad was sleepily glaring at Blaine, Carole was smiling and had been the one making conversation before, Blaine was barely awake, and Finn was sleeping in his Fruit Loops. "She was just awarded Loser of the Year, beating out..." Kurt pulled out a list dramatically. If only he'd had glasses to put on to get the full effect, "the economy, Mel Gibson, the housing market, Dina Lohan, Wall Street, Tiger Woods, the Dallas Cowboys, Bret Farb's cell phone, nine percent unemployment, and Dina Lohan's dog, Sparky." For someone who was announcing Mr. Schuester's future murder, Kurt sounded _way_ too amused.

"When'd tis 'appen?" Blaine asked, trying to participate in the conversation. It wasn't that no one cared about Kurt's news, they were just too tired to react.

"Last night, minutes after the Cheerios lost Regionals because Satan, Britt, and Q weren't there." Kurt was still grinning. "If someone would like to wake Finn up and tell him that the rest of the Cheerios' budget is going to the New Directions, I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Blaine almost moaned aloud as the smell of coffee drifted over to the table.

"I'm sure the rest of us would appreciate it if no one woke him up," Carole said with a loving smile at first Kurt then her son. "A cranky Finn is something none of us want to deal with."

"When are you kiddos headed back to Dalton?" Burt asked, giving up on glaring at Blaine (presumably because he'd woken up enough to realize that he had no _reason_ to glare at Blaine).

"We'll probably head back this afternoon. I have some homework questions for whoever in the Warblers is good at history, and I think we have a Warbler meeting tomorrow morning, so we'll want to get our sleep." Kurt tried to ignore the fact that whenever he said 'we' it made he and Blaine sound like one of those couples so joined at the hip they were practically one person.

"Good. Make sure you get your homework done." Burt didn't sound particularly thrilled that he'd only see his son for a few more hours, but Kurt ignored it. There was nothing he could do.

"So how are you liking Dalton, sweetie?" Carole asked. "I know I asked you during Christmas break, but you've probably had a little bit more of the full experience now that you're boarding." If anyone else had said it, someone would have made it dirty, but since it was in Carole's loving and motherly tone, everyone (Blaine) restrained.

"It's actually pretty fun to live there," Kurt admitted, keeping his eyes on his dad's expression. "My roommate's really nice-"

"Is he gay?" Burt demanded, and Kurt sighed. If he hadn't known better, that would have sounded homophobic.

"No, Dad. My roommate is straight, and I'm not classless." Kurt brought over his meticulously made breakfast and two cups of coffee in one trip. One of the side effects of having grace, Blaine supposed.

"You're an angel," he almost _groaned_ as Kurt placed one of the cups down in front of him. He had _so_ needed coffee.

"You're welcome," Kurt said, and Blaine knew he was rolling his eyes, but couldn't care less. Burt was glaring at him.

* * *

><p>"So, no one died?" David asked happily after classes on Monday, sitting on Chris' bed next to Wes while Chris was... somewhere else. Kurt honestly had no idea where his roommate had gone. Hopefully Chris was hanging out with some non-Warbler friends.<p>

"Thankfully no. There was one major scare when Tina decided to play and got tackled in the worst way possible, but she was fine. The football boys ended up playing the second half." Everyone knew who the football boys were. They were distinctly different from the Glee guys.

"What the hell possessed her to play?" Wes asked, and Kurt shrugged.

"Boredom. Female independence, she's big on that. Who knows?" Kurt was much calmer about the issue talking to his friends than he had been when it was happening. No need to worry about it now, she was fine.

Just as Blaine opened his mouth to comment, Kurt's phone rang, flashing his brother's face and name to strains of _Just the Way You Are_, and Charlie came... slouching in, a remorseful expression on his face.

"Well hello, Finn Hudson," Kurt said, mocking the breathy tone he'd used the first time Finn had ever called him. He expected a laugh, he got a sigh.

"I'm an asshole," Charlie announced as he slumped onto Kurt's bed between him and Blaine, and Blaine, Wes, Kurt, and David all nodded fervently.

"_Hi, Kurt_," Finn said, and for someone who had just won a championship football game, he sounded thoroughly depressed.

"Cheer up, superstar, you're a shoe-in for MVP," Kurt said cheerfully into his phone, a little bit concerned for his brother and a little bit annoyed. "Ten bucks this is about girls," he mouthed to Blaine around Charlie and Blaine grinned.

"I found out why Neff's in the closet," Charlie said sadly, slumping a little bit more until the wall was the only thing holding him up.

"_I won MVP_," Finn said, and he still sounded thoroughly lifeless.

"Neff's in the closet _because_..." Charlie began, and then looked at Kurt expectantly. At the countertenor's raised eyebrow, Charlie tapped Kurt's phone, clearly saying 'answer it'.

"All right, that's the good news. What's the bad news?" Kurt asked Finn then expectantly looked back at Charlie.

"Because they thought their relationship would be less complicated if no one knew, but since everyone knows, they're coming out!" Charlie yelled victoriously, going from miserable to triumphant in seconds and not paused to breath.

"Should have known it was an act," Blaine muttered. "You never care enough about other peoples' problems to seem upset." Charlie stuck his tongue out at his best friend.

"_Karofsky doesn't want to join the Glee club, and he doesn't want to make things right with you,_" Finn admitted, obviously upset that his grand plan had failed.

"That's not exactly shocking, Finn." Kurt ignored the little bit of triumph that Karofsky had chosen to be who Kurt thought he was. It wasn't that he _wanted_ Karofsky to be a bad person, he just knew that he wasn't nearly evolved enough to be a part of Glee club or make things right with him.

"They're officially coming out on Valentine's Day," Charlie said excitedly. "Isn't that sweet?" he asked sarcastically.

"Isn't that a little far away from now?" Blaine asked. Kurt mimed sticking his fingers down his throat at the mention of Valentine's Day.

"_He didn't want to take a chance on his newfound popularity because he says bad things are remembered longer._" Finn sounded so utterly miserable, Kurt just wanted to give him some warm milk and hug him.

"They said it would be romantic," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes, and Kurt kind of loved how he and Charlie agreed on the holiday. "I told them I was going to tell everyone anyway, so they might as well get it done."

"I hate to agree with my potential-murderer," Kurt said smoothly, "but he's right. People still remember that Puck went to Juvie, but they barely mention how he chose to do the right thing for his daughter. The bad always outweighs the good at McKinley."

"Your potential _what_?" David asked, his voice shocked and angry. Kurt waved a hand at him and Blaine shook his head. David pouted, but a look from Wes made him give it up. How had no one but him found out about them?

"_It's not fair!_" Finn said, but he still sounded more sad than frustrated.

"I'm guessing Nick and Jeff didn't take your advice," Blaine said, getting the conversation back on track. Charlie shook his head with a dramatic sigh.

"Finn, I know you love me and all, but there's something else that's bothering you. If this was just about Karofsky, you'd be angry and kicking chairs. Who is it this time?" Kurt asked, and they both knew what he was asking.

"_I don't wanna talk about it_," Finn said, and he sounded even more miserable than before. Jackpot.

"Is it Rachel? Quinn? Santana?" Kurt asked, and Charlie cocked his head like a confused puppy.

"Is there a reason Kurt's boyfriend is having girl problems?" David asked, and Kurt almost choked on his own spit. Blaine died laughing in his usual, supremely unhelpful manner.

"_I don't want to talk about it, Kurt_," Finn repeated, sounding more annoyed than upset this time, and when Kurt pulled his phone away from his ear, it confirmed his original suspicion: Finn had hung up on him.

"Finnegan Christopher Hudson is _not_ my boyfriend!" Kurt said indignantly. Blaine was still snickering. "He's my _step-brother_!"

"Well that makes more sense," Wes said, and the Warbler didn't even seem to register that Kurt was annoyed by the comment. Charlie edged a little closer to Blaine, and David edged a little closer to Wes.

"So, who's got Valentine's Day plans?" David asked, and Kurt seemed to be the only one that caught the little smiles he and Wes exchanged. How had this not been obvious before? How was it not obvious to _everyone_?

"Not me," Wes said with a roll of his eyes. "Alison apparently _hates_ Valentine's Day, and she said if I do anything for her on Valentine's, she'll break up with me. Honestly, makes it a lot easier for me."

"Not me either. No girlfriend makes sucky holidays a lot easier," David added. Kurt half-expected them to be locking pinkies between them, because they were starting to act like Santana and Brittany.

"Define plans..." Charlie said with a smirk, and Blaine slapped a hand over his mouth.

"_No_," Blaine scolded Charlie firmly as though he were a dog. "Valentine's Day is the most romantic holiday of the year, you are not allowed to corrupt it." Blaine hesitantly took the hand off Charlie's mouth, but the other boy didn't say anything vulgar.

"What about you, Blainers? Valentine's Day plans?" Charlie asked, and he was staring at Blaine _very_ intently.

"Maybe," Blaine said with a shrug. Kurt tried not to snap his eyes to Blaine, but that was okay because both Wes and David did that for him.

"_Maybe_?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's possible. I, unlike you all, do not hate Valentine's Day," Blaine said firmly, but he didn't make his reply any less nebulous.

"What about you, Kurtsie?" Charlie asked, swinging himself around and staring at Kurt with the same intensity. Wes and David seemed to be more interested in his answer than they were in Blaine's.

"No romantic plans. I'll probably just hang out with the newly-single Rachel and Mercedes," Kurt said with a shrug. Being single on Valentine's Day had never really bothered him. It was far from his favorite holiday, and there was always a marathon of chick-flicks for him to make fun of with Mercedes.

"Really?" Wes asked, and Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why is that hard to believe?"

Wes shifted a bit on the bed uncomfortably before David answered for him. "We assumed one of the four hundred guys who ask Warblers about you everyday would grow some balls and ask you out. Especially with the sappiest holiday in existence coming up." Blaine clutched at his heart, and Kurt raised his other eyebrow.

"Well, maybe I will have Valentine's Day plans if one of these imaginary guys whom everyone keeps mentioning, yet I still don't quite believe exist because I've never met one, asks me out." Inside, Kurt was laughing at the idea. He was very much stuck on the guy with nebulous Valentine's plans sitting two feet from him, clueless and not on the same page.

"Valentine's Day sucks, doesn't it?" David asked, and everyone but Blaine nodded.

* * *

><p>"'Maybe' is possibly the most annoying word in the English language," Charlie announced, striding into Blaine's room with a purpose and placing a hand on his hip, "and the most nebulous. Please tell me in this case 'maybe' means you're finally going to grow some balls, admit you're one of the guys head-over-heels for the one and only Kurt Hummel, and ask him out for Valentine's day, not that you're going out with Mr. Sappy-Texts."<p>

"Charlie, that ship has sailed," Blaine said firmly, relaxing on his bed. This was one of the only times in their entire friendship that Charlie had entered Blaine's room unexpectedly. Not that Charlie didn't barge in often, but Blaine always knew when it was going to happen.

"So what does 'maybe' mean?" Charlie asked.

"What if 'maybe' means that I'm hopeful? After all, Valentine's Day is the most romantic day on the planet," Blaine said, judging Charlie's facial expressions as he talked.

"Blaine, come on. I know you better than that. Spill. And also remember that Valentine's Day is the _sappiest _holiday in existence, not necessarily the most romantic. Not many kids are born in November, if you catch my drift." Blaine sighed. "You have a date with Jeremiah, don't you? Don't lie to me, Anderson."

"Your definition of romance is so _off_," Blaine said with a sigh. "I could tell you about my plans for a holiday that you hate anyway... _or_ I could tell you secret Warbler information I just overheard Wes and David talking about," he tempted his friend with a grin.

"Must you appeal to my love of espionage?" Charlie asked with a sigh. "Tell me both."

"One or the other," Blaine negotiated.

"Tell me both, or I will lock us in here and sing the song that never ends until you scratch your brains out just so it will end," Charlie threatened. Blaine wasn't entirely sure he was joking.

"There's going to be a Warbler bonding event Friday," he revealed with a grin. Charlie's reaction was almost immediate.

"_Yes_! Whoo-hoo! One more chance to get myself kicked out of every restaurant in Westerville!" Charlie cheered. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?"

"Now, you and Jeremiah are going out, aren't you?" Blaine shook his head, both in reply to the question and to indicate that he wasn't going to talk about this with Charlie. His best friend was already meddlesome enough in a relationship that wasn't real, the tenor couldn't imagine what Charlie would do if he had an actual boyfriend. "What, did he break things off?" It would be a surprise to most people, but Charlie actually sounded concerned.

"Charlie, there's nothing to break off. Just because we've been out to coffee a couple of times, doesn't mean we're dating."

"'A couple of times?' Last time it was 'a few times'. How many times are we talking about here?" Blaine rolled his eyes. Charlie and his details.

"You can sit down, you know," he offered, gesturing next to him and then to the other bed. Charlie ignored him in kind.

"Okay. Say you're telling me the truth. If-"

"I _am_ telling you the truth," Blaine clarified.

"_Supposedly_. Anyway. If you're still texting him and going out to coffee with him, which I'm willing to bet that you are..." Charlie looked at Blaine for confirmation.

"We're going out for coffee tomorrow," Blaine confirmed.

"You still _want_ there to be something to break off," Charlie guessed, and Blaine sighed. Sadly, Charlie knew him that well.

"Of course I do, Charls. He's a great guy, and I feel like I actually have a chance for once," he admitted, and then _Charlie_ sighed.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered lowly. "All right. Tell me about him."

"He's a little bit older and I met him at a store I go to a lot. He got accepted to Capital University in Columbus, but he's taking a year's sabbatical for personal reasons." Blaine could see Charlie drifting off. Where was his friend's head? "He's a music media major, and secretly a superhero and a ninja. His little sister owns the world's only purple unicorn. Once all the lawn gnomes at his house came to life and terrorized the world. He has a pet Jabberwocky."

"What was that last one?" Charlie asked, looking back at Blaine.

"Really? You didn't even react to the purple unicorn, but 'Jabberwocky' catches your attention?" Blaine asked, and Charlie shrugged.

"Something... unpleasant occurred to me. Anyway, we should probably get going on your pre-calc homework, Mr. Right-Brain."

"I hate you so much," Blaine replied, reaching for his backpack.

* * *

><p>Kurt loved romance. Adored it. Watched romantic movies until he ran out of tissues in the house. However, when it was late January and romance seems to be <em>everywhere<em>, especially because he goes to an all-boys' school where the only kind of romance on campus is the kind he wants, it gets to be annoying and a little upsetting. Especially if it seems impossible for Kurt to have some of that romance for himself.

"You're pouting," Blaine commented from behind him, making him jump.

"I've been warned a nearly obscene amount, by my father and my friends, not to become bitter in this cow-town, but surrounded by _that_," he gestured towards Nick and Jeff, "how can I prevent it?"

"They're cute, aren't they?" Blaine said, taking a seat next to Kurt in religion. Mrs. Pontbriand had walked in to find most of the class sitting and chatting, the room devoid of a teacher, and rushed off to find Mrs. Kay, leaving them alone. Obviously Dalton boys were far more deserving of trust then McKinley kids, because not one had left or done something inappropriate.

"Gratingly, yes," Kurt said with a sigh. Nick and Jeff were chatting like they were but facing each other, their enjoined hands on their table as they laughed and talked, Nick occasionally reaching up to brush Jeff's hair out of his eyes, making him blush.

"Sometimes it feels like everyone has someone, doesn't it?" Blaine asked rhetorically, watching Kurt watch Neff. "Wes and Allison, David and... that girl from Brookhaven High he's been talking to, Thad and Molly, even _Charlie_ has someone, although I'm sure that's a bizarre pseudo-relationship. At least he's happy."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a sigh. "Well, I guess everyone's relationship isn't like that," Kurt pointed to Neff, finally looking away from them and at Blaine. "I mean, think about Finn and Rachel. They're miserable."

"True," Blaine admitted, "but at a time, they _were_ happy. Maybe they're just not meant to be."

"Your really pushing for this sappy stuff, aren't you?" Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, probably not being very helpful."

"Not even a little." Kurt looked back at Neff, taking a curious glance over towards Wes and David's table, where they were staring at some poor unfortunate soul who had found all the objects in his pencil case glued together and cracking up. "Valentine's Day sucks."

"As annoying as we can be, Wes, David, Charlie, and I _are_ right. You do have options, especially here." Blaine ignored the green monster that raged up, claiming that these options didn't know Kurt like he did.

"Right. That's why I've never met any of them," Kurt said with a sigh.

Blaine sighed as well, scanning the room. He really didn't want to do this, but how could he let his best friend feel so undesirable? "Hey, Griffin!" Blaine called across the class, beckoning.

"Blaine, what are you _doing_?" Kurt hissed, wide eyes staring at the approaching guy.

"Proving a point," Blaine whispered in reply.

"Hey, Blaine. What's up?" Blaine soured a little at the fact that Griffin certainly wasn't wasting time looking at _him_.

"Hey, Griff," he replied casually. Pale blond with blue-gray eyes, Griffin wasn't _horrible_-looking. "Can you just settle an argument for us?"

"Happy to help." Griffin smiled at Kurt, who was flushing bright red, and the countertenor smiled back shyly.

"You would totally date Kurt, right?" Blaine asked, trying not to get annoyed. What he really wanted to say was 'stop staring at him, you creep.'

Griffin grinned widely. "Heck yeah."

"Okay, that's all," Blaine said firmly, trying to ignore the fact that Griffin and Kurt were still making eye contact. "See you later."

"Bye," Kurt squeaked.

"Yeah, I'll definitely see you later," Griffin said. He wasn't talking to Blaine.

Kurt waited until Griffin was out of earshot before turning and smacking Blaine's arm. "Blaine! What the hell was that? Now Griffin is going to think that I _like_ him!" Kurt demanded, ignoring Blaine's mutter of 'ow'.

"You don't even know him," Blaine replied, rubbing his sore arm. "And maybe if you weren't bright red and squeaky, he wouldn't be as inclined to think that." Kurt huffed. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen? He asks you out, you turn him down, he hates me forever. Fine by me." Blaine couldn't help but sound a little bitter and _prayed_ that Kurt didn't notice.

"You don't like him?" Kurt asked, the bright red flush on his cheeks paling to a light pink.

"I barely know him," Blaine clarified. He had no _logical_ reason not to like Griffin. "The only reason I even know his last name is because he plays hockey."

"And I only acted like that because you put me on the spot," Kurt grumbled, the flush in his cheeks almost entirely gone.

"You're right," Blaine said, and Kurt smiled. "Normally when you meet guys that could potentially be gay, you turn into the shyest person ever. This time, you turned into a mouse with a blood vessel problem."

"Ha-ha," Kurt said sarcastically.

"But you get my point, don't you?" Blaine asked.

"Yes, yes, guys are interested in me before they have a conversation with me and realize I'm a freak," Kurt said sassily, but not sarcastically.

"That was _not_ my point. My point was that you have options," Blaine corrected his friend.

"If only I could actually have a conversation with said options," Kurt replied.

"Maybe you can. You're not always like you were when you met Wes and David, and I've _never_ seen you act like that before," Blaine said, gesturing to where Griffin was chatting with another hockey player that looked in danger of being too heavy for his seat. "You certainly didn't act like that when you first met _me_," he added, trying not to pout. If that was how Kurt acted when he met a guy he thought was attractive, maybe Kurt hadn't liked him in the first place.

"Well, that was because..." Kurt trailed off, blushing pink again.

"Because?" Blaine prompted, trying to resist the temptation to press a hand to Kurt's cheek and feel the warmth under the soft skin.

"I-"

"Hey guys!" Kurt and Blaine both jumped at Chris' sudden entrance into their conversation. "Is Mrs. Kay ever going to show up?" he asked, pulling up a chair at their table.

"Uh..." Blaine said very articulately as Kurt looked at the floor, cheeks still pink.

"Am I... interrupting something?" Chris asked awkwardly. Kurt shook his head furiously, looking up at Chris and smiling.

"No. We were just talking about hockey," Kurt said. It wasn't really a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. Damn, he was annoyed! What had Kurt been about to say?

"Uh, okay," Chris said disbelievingly.

"Where were you on Monday?" Kurt asked, sounding like a concerned parent.

"Me and some guys went over to Crawford Country Day. Their glee club had a showcase. It was pretty cool; they're really good." Kurt seemed satisfied by this answer, but it hit Blaine like a ton of bricks.

"Shoot, Molly's going to _kill me_," Blaine muttered.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked slightly awkwardly.

"I was supposed to be at that showcase, but I totally blanked. Molly, their lead singer and Thad's girlfriend, is going to murder me and hide my body where it'll never be found." Blaine looked up at Kurt, who was staring fixedly at the Dalton symbol on his blazer.

"Isn't that a little bit dramatic?" Kurt said, still staring at that spot.

"Not for Molly," Blaine said, grimacing. "And to answer your original question, I can't say this hasn't happened before. Ms. Kay used to forget about freshman Health all the time. No one has any idea why she hasn't been fired yet. It's not like Mr. Bressler where we all like her. We all acknowledge that she's a crappy teacher, but she remains a permanent fixture in our lives."

Chris shrugged. "This doesn't seem so bad though. Just having a class of chilling."

"Yeah, that's when she leaves her door unlocked," Blaine said with a grin. "Try spending an eighty minute period sitting on the floor in the hallway."

"Brutal," Chris said.

"Is there something on my blazer?" Blaine asked Kurt finally, tilting his chin down to look where Kurt's stare was fixated.

"No, why would you think that?" Kurt asked, and when Blaine looked up, Kurt's stare had moved from his blazer to his chin. The countertenor was avoiding eye contact.

"No reason," Blaine said smoothly, noting Chris' confused gaze between the two of them.

"I'm going to go talk to..." Chris didn't even bother finishing the excuse, just walking back to his table.

"So what were you saying about-"

"Sorry I'm late, class!" Mrs. Kay burst through the door carrying her usual arsenal of mismatching bags. "My brother's best friend's step-sister's ex-husband has Fields' disease, so I was visiting him in the hospital. _Silence_. Everyone please turn to page forty-one in their textbooks and do the group talk alone. Then write a persuasive essay on the most unrealistic rule in Leviticus for society today. Using 18:22 is cheating."

Mentally cursing his luck, Blaine began extolling the virtues of pork, arguing against Leviticus 11:7.

* * *

><p><em>Follow the Yellow Brick Road.<br>Follow the Yellow Brick Road.  
>Follow, follow, follow, follow,<br>Follow the Yellow Brick Road.  
>Follow the Yellow Brick,<br>Follow the Yellow Brick,  
>Follow the Yellow Brick Road.<em>

_We're off to see the Wizard, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.  
>You'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz! If ever a Wiz! there was.<br>If ever oh ever a Wiz! there was The Wizard of Oz is one because,  
>Because, because, because, because, because.<br>Because of the wonderful things he does.  
>We're off to see the Wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz <em>

"Is it just me, or are Wes and David worse lately?" Blaine commented to Charlie as they walked through the common room in Stevenson.

"I don't know, but wiring the speakers in our dorm to play _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ over and over again until we loose our minds is pretty inspired," Charlie said proudly.

"You're pouting inside that they didn't include you, aren't you?"

"But of course." Charlie paused as the song started up again. "I can't believe you're going out to coffee with Mr. Music-Media while you have _Kurt Hummel_ around."

Blaine sighed. "Charlie. We've talked about this. And it's just coffee. It's not like we're eloping."

"You do realize I would _never_ forgive you if you eloped, right?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, Charlie."

"Just clarifying."

"Of course."

Charlie stopped. "Uh, I have to... call Lucas. Bye!" Charlie turned and raced up the stairs.

"Sometimes I wonder," Blaine muttered to himself.

"I think we all wonder," Kurt said with a smile as he walked up to Blaine. "You want to head to the library and start working on that physics paper?"

"Actually..." Blaine debated internally. Would it be so horrible for him to tell Kurt that he was meeting another guy for coffee? "I have to go to Crawford Country Day and grovel at Molly's feet for forgiveness. How about tomorrow?"

"We'll grab coffee first?" Kurt asked with a smile.

"But of course. See you," Blaine said as he left the dorm.

Blaine climbed into his car, flexing his fingers. He couldn't remember the last time he had driven... it must have been before Kurt transferred. Because Kurt loved his car so much, he was always the one to drive to the Lima Bean, and they went almost everyday.

Flipping on KISS 92.5, secretly glad that he could listen to pop music without being ridiculed by Kurt, Blaine pulled out of the Dalton parking lot (having to use his horn three or four times. Dalton manners did _not_ extend onto the road) and headed towards the Lima Bean.

* * *

><p>"Medium drip," Jeremiah said as Blaine approached the table he was sitting at, gesturing to the coffee opposite him.<p>

"Thanks," Blaine said, taking a sip of the coffee as he unwound his scarf. "Sorry I'm a little bit late, I was called in on tech support. A few of the guys wired the intercoms in our dorm to play _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ on repeat for all of eternity."

"It's fine. I was worried I was going to be late, my car doesn't like to start in cold weather." Jeremiah looked out the window at the snowflakes which had just started to fall.

"Yeah, it's freezing out there," Blaine commented. "Any news about your mom?" he asked quietly.

"No improvement," Jeremiah replied quickly.

"Jeremiah, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be. These things happen, right?" he asked rhetorically. "How are things at Dalton?"

"Same as always. Lots of pranks recently. In about three days the halls will be hung with enough Valentine's decorations to make even the most valiant of Valentine's Day supporters, such as myself, want to take a flamethrower to the red and pink hearts." Jeremiah snorted.

"Valentine's Day." He rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong with Valentine's Day?" Blaine asked. Why was he the only one who enjoyed the holiday?

"Nothing. I actually love Valentine's Day, I just forgot about it this year."

"Jeremiah..."

"Not because of her, just because you realize Valentine's Day's not actually a big deal about eight months after you graduate from high school."

"So, the next Valentine's Day?" Blaine asked, doing some quick math.

"Precisely," Jeremiah said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Have any plans?"

"Not as of yet," Blaine said, wishing he couldn't feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

"What planning some grand gesture for a deserving guy?" Jeremiah asked with a grin. Dammit, now he was blushing _harder_.

"Something like that," Blaine said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That's sweet. High school romance and all that." Jeremiah's phone rang. He glanced down at the screen, dismissive, then frowned. "I'm sorry, I should take this, it might be bad news."

A grand gesture. He could do that. Blaine leaned back in his chair as he watched Jeremiah take his phone call by the counter. A song, maybe... but how much is too much? Should he serenade Jeremiah privately or get the Warblers to help? And what song should he do? Something romantic, obviously, but not _too_ serious...

"Sorry. That was... a whole lot of nothing," Jeremiah said with a frown, placing his phone back in his pocket as he sat back down.

"Jeremiah if there's anything I can do..." Blaine offered once again, knowing that Jeremiah would shoot him down.

"There's nothing to be done, Blaine," Jeremiah said firmly.

"I know you don't particularly like your job, I could provide references, connections," Blaine offered. Jeremiah had told him all about the kind of people he had to deal with working at the GAP, which stunk.

"I appreciate it, Blaine, but the GAP works out. It's close enough to the hospital that I can get there in an emergency. It's not the best pay, but it ends up being sufficient to cover my mom's income, especially because there are no tuition bills to pay. And no, it's not particularly fun, but I'll survive."

"I don't suppose there are any music media jobs near here?" Blaine asked, knowing how much Jeremiah loved his planned major.

Jeremiah gave him a sassy look that told Blaine all he needed to know, but answered anyway. "There are barely any in Ohio, and certainly not ones that pay well."

"Oh."

"You have no idea what music media is," Jeremiah said. It wasn't a question.

"Not... specifics," Blaine hedged, and Jeremiah laughed.

"You could do me a favor though," the older boy said a little bit slyly.

"Anything," Blaine offered automatically.

"I'd be careful before you say things like that," Jeremiah said with a grin, but didn't press the issue. "Make sure you follow through on that deserving guy, all right. Valentine's Day is a lot more fun when you have someone to share it with." Jeremiah leaned back. "So, tell me all about the life of a rich kid."

"That's not funny," Blaine said with a smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ten points to the first person to spot the medical joke and the religious joke in here!Anyway, I like this chapter. And it's kind of been kicking my butt, so you can thank MusicalEscape for motivating me to write this. I hope you guys are liking Jeremiah just a little bit more, and Griffin gets a funny scene next chapter. This chapter's kind of medium-length, but there's a lot in it, so I hope you guys enjoy!**

**Next chapter: Warbler bonding event (AKA WARBLER MADNESS), the beginning of canon from Silly Love Songs, and how Valentine's Day is at Dalton (don't make speculations based on Christmas. This is SO much better).**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Just the Way You Are_' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)  
>'<em>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz<em>' from _The Wizard of Oz_

**Reviews are Love.**


	19. Excruciatingly Pink

**A/N: This chapter is late, and I'm sorry. Writing the Warbler bonding event took forever, and then I just whipped it out in one night. Some parts of this chapter are dedicated to Musical Escape, who's an amazing writer that you should all go check out, HPkitty, who requested more Wevid, and the best person ever, YourEyesLikeStars/theawkwardllama, who is never on anymore because FF dot net hates her, but is amazing and missed and loved. There's a baby bit of canon in here.**

** Valentine's Day is my personal least favorite holiday, and that's surprisingly not because I'm single and bitter, because I'm not single or bitter. I just really don't like the holiday. However, I know that some people do, and in the spirit of Valentine's Day, which isn't for like another four months, but whatever, I placed love song lyrics at the beginning of each segment of the story, which makes sense, because they're always either at school, in the car, or at the Lima Bean (which plays music in my head). Some songs even tie into the plot. I might do it for other chapters, depending on how you guys like it. The songs are all listed at the bottom.**

* * *

><p><em>I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you<br>I know you were right believing for so long  
>I'm all out of love, what am I without you<br>I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong_

"Did Wes and David wire the speakers again?" Kurt demanded as he strode down the stairs the next morning to the sounds of Air Supply. "Because if they did, and they set them to go off at this early an hour, I'll kill them."

"Sadly, no. All of Dalton plays love songs at all hours in the weeks around Valentine's Day. It makes being unattached even worse than usual." Blaine commented from where he was making cereal. It was too early for the commons to be open. "Why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same question," Kurt replied, sitting down in the dorm kitchen. I was blasted out of bed by Air Supply-"

"An incredible achievement if there ever was one," Blaine said dryly.

"What's your excuse?"

"I just have a lot on my mind," was what Blaine said in reply. Mostly Jeremiah.

"Like?" Kurt prompted.

"Nothing. Up for Lima Bean later? Might be our last chance before Friday. Rumor has it Wes wants to set up the bonding event there. Nothing in a Dalton uniform will ever be allowed again," Blaine said dramatically, avoiding the question.

"I would kill him. I _need_ coffee." Blaine laughed.

"You might not need coffee for the next few weeks. Even being in the hallways will probably make you nauseous from pink-heart overdose." Blaine passed a bowl of Cheerios to Kurt. "Cheerios for the Cheerio."

"Ha ha," Kurt said sarcastically. "How bad can it possibly be?"

* * *

><p><em>Blessed for everything you've given me<br>Blessed for all the tenderness you show  
>Do my best with every breath that's in me<br>Blessed to make sure you never go_

"They repainted the school."

"Uh-huh."

"They _repainted_ the school."

"Yep."

"It's pink."

"Excruciatingly."

"_Everything's_ pink."

"I'm actually kind of surprised you aren't speechless," Blaine replied, taking a look around the halls. They had upped the ante since last Valentine's Day, probably as a result of the senior prank.

"It takes more than... _this_ to make Kurt Hummel speechless," Kurt looked around, "but not very much."

The freshly-painted pink hallway was covered in pink and red hearts, most with personalized messages on them. There were cupid dolls hanging from every chandelier. There were heart-infused Chinese lanterns hanging between chandeliers. Roses were not only wrapped around ever banister, there were also bunches of them taped every few feet on the wall and to every locker. There was pink, red, and purple heart confetti spread all over the wooden floors (which always caused a few accidents). The whole place smelled, but somehow didn't reek, of girly perfume. It would only be a few days before everyone who entered and exited the place had a lingering trail.

"See if you can find any hearts for you," Blaine said, gesturing around to the hearts hanging from strings in random places.

"Pardon?" Kurt asked, taking in the hallway with horrified eyes.

"All the hearts are actually Valentine's. On Monday, anyone that wanted to put one up could write on one while the art classes were creating them." Blaine plucked one randomly off a string. "This one's for... some kid I don't know, but it says '_I looked and searched for a different way to say I love you on Valentine's Day. Not with the usual poem with a rhyme saying I'm yours until the end of time, and not just a rose that wilts at day's end or a card with dog-eared edges that bend..._' Wow, they wrote a novel for... another kid I don't know." Blaine tossed it behind him. Someone would find it who knew the recipient.

"It's a game, finding the hearts that are for you before Valentine's Day."

"Doesn't seem like a very _fun_ game," Kurt said, continuing to walk without waiting for Blaine or looking at any of the hearts.

"Don't be a downer," Blaine said, hurrying to catch up to him. "Maybe you'll be lucky and they'll be another _Paint it Black_ fiasco."

"What's that?" Kurt asked excitedly.

"A bunch of seniors put together a play list of songs involving black, _Back to Black, Paint it Black, Welcome to the Black Parade_, etc., and put those on the intercom instead of the love songs and then doused the hallways with black paint, covering the walls, the hearts, the floors, the roses, everything, just before people came out to see it on Valentine's Day."

"You call that a fiasco?" Kurt said with a raised eyebrow.

"I happen to _enjoy_ Valentine's Day, even if this is a bit... much, and the seniors agreed after they finished cleaning everything off with toothbrushes." Kurt winced.

"Harsh."

"Fair," Blaine argued. "They caused a lot of damage to school property and ruined a lot of peoples' Valentine's Days."

"Whatever. Why did they put them up today, anyway?" Kurt asked. "I would have thought they would wait until Monday."

"You _hoped_ they would wait longer," Blaine corrected, and Kurt didn't argue. "It's twenty days before Valentine's Day. A lot of stores and schools put up their decorations around now. I'm sure there will be some at the Lima Bean, though probably not as many as there are here."

"_Great_."

"Hey Kurt, found one for you," Jeff announced, bounding up to the pair and handing Kurt a pink heart. "From some _freshman_." Jeff said 'freshman' the way everyone said 'freshman', with a little bit of smug superiority.

"Who's Peter Carlton?" Kurt asked and Blaine died laughing.

"Oh jeez, that's Wes' little brother."

"Read it!" Jeff and Blaine said at the same time.

"It's just the lyrics to _Without Love_ from _Hairspray_," Kurt said, scanning through the note. Jeff and Blaine died laughing.

"If you break his heart, Wes will _kill you_," Jeff announced, before seeing Nick and running off to hug his boyfriend.

"He's right," Blaine said with a laugh, taking the heart from Kurt's hand. "That's so cute."

"Not really," Kurt said sourly.

"Put it in your bag," Blaine said, trying to do so as he spoke.

"Why?" Kurt asked, slapping his hand away.

"Because you didn't believe you had admirers, right? I bet by the end of this week you'll see that half the school thinks themselves in love with you." Kurt allowed Blaine to stick the heart in his messenger bag just to get rid of his efforts.

"Yeah, right. Wes probably just asked Peter-"

"Kurt, this one's yours," Kendricke said from across the hall, handing another heart to Kurt, this one purple with musical notes doodled on the back.

"This is going to happen a lot, isn't it?" Kurt asked with a sigh as he unfolded the heart.

"_Oh yeah_," his extremely unhelpful best friend replied.

* * *

><p><em>We're heading for something<br>Somewhere I've never been  
>Sometimes I am frightened<br>But I'm ready to learn  
>Of the power of love<em>

"_Twenty-six hearts_. _Twenty. Six_. And not a single one from someone I know, or even from someone who's name I recognize!" Kurt announced after school, pouring said hearts out on the dorm couch as Blaine laughed.

"And this is just day one." People had been coming up to Kurt all day, handing him hearts addressed to Kurt Hummel. One had said _Junior Warbler Kurt Hummel_, was from Wes, and had said '_I bet you believe us about those admirers now_.' Kurt had crumpled that one up and chucked it at Wes' head.

"It's not funny, Blaine!" Kurt said as he pulled some stragglers out of his bag.

"Actually, it kind of is." Seeing Kurt's face, Blaine sighed and snagged his hand. "It's not a bad things that these are all from strangers. I bet there are a ton of hearts out there from guys you know, even some Warblers who I've seen staring dreamy-eyed at you whenever you sing. Don't worry about it."

"Besides the one Wes hanged for me, repeating what you said this morning about admirers, I doubt that." Blaine squeezed his hand. "I don't want people to look at me and go 'wow', I don't even understand why people look at me and go 'wow'. I just..." Kurt sighed. "I hate Valentine's Day."

"You're the majority in that. Ready to go to the Bean?" Kurt glanced at the hearts.

"_So_ ready." Kurt paused. "As long as we listen to angry rock music typical of Finn on the way there. I'm _so_ sick of Air Supply."

* * *

><p><em>I wanna wrap you up<br>Wanna kiss your lips  
>I wanna make you feel wanted<br>I wanna call you mine  
>Wanna hold your hand forever<br>And never let you forget it_

Kurt didn't actually make Blaine play angry rock music on the way, but didn't even complain about the pop music he did play. At least, he didn't until a romantic song came on.

"Oh no," he breathed as they reached the Lima Bean, Big red hearts eerily reminiscent of the ones currently swarming Dalton were hanging outside. "No, no, no, no, no-"

"It won't be as bad as Dalton," Blaine promised, hoping out of Kurt's Navigator.

It really wasn't. The Lima Bean sold stuffed toys and heart mugs for Valentine's Day, which lined shelves and queues in the cafe, but there was next to nothing besides those.

"Okay, I'm all for flair, but these Valentine's Day decorations are just tacky," Kurt announced, pinking up two white and red stuffed puppies with hearts on their red ribbons kissing on a red heart pillow. As Blaine had guessed, everything in the Lima Bean was tailored for Valentine's Day, everything pink or red, even the Lima Bean mugs they sold had been replaced with red and pink ones with hearts on the shelves around them. Valentine's Day was everywhere. "I mean, what the hell is this supposed to be?"

"It's clearly puppy love. It's cute. Come on," Blaine said, snatching the stuffed animal from Kurt's hands and then giving it back to him. As Kurt accepted it to place it back on the shelf from whence it had came, it made a suction sound which was clearly supposed to be kissing and said '_I love you_'' in a creepy high-pitched voice that was clearly supposed to be a puppy.

"Oh." Kurt turned to place it back.

"_Adorable_," Blaine cooed.

"Okay, this is creepy." Kurt placed it back. "It's a _simple _excuse to sell candy and greeting cards on a holiday."

"Not true. People have been celebrating Valentine's Day for centuries. And call me a hopeless romantic, but it's my favorite holiday." Kurt had known Blaine was in favor of the holiday, but his _favorite_?

"Really?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine a disbelieving look.

"I think there's something really great about a day where you're encouraged to just... lay in all on the line and say to somebody 'I'm in love with you.' You know?" Kurt had to catch his breath as Blaine looked directly at him saying that. No, he knew Blaine didn't mean it, but... "And this year I wanna do something really radical, so I need your opinion on this." They moved up in line. Blaine took a deep breath, which is what he always did before talking about something potentially awkward, difficult to say, difficult to respond to, or all three. "But there's this guy that I sort of... like... and I've only known him for a little while, but I wanna tell him that I think my feelings are starting to change into something... _deeper._" Blaine sighed. "So I have to ask, do you think it's too much to sing to somebody on Valentine's Day?"

Kurt's brain was going into overdrive. Who else could possibly fit all those criterion? Well, lots of guys probably, but he and Blaine had become _so_ close, and if anyone was deserving of these feelings it would be him right? What other guy could Blaine be interested in? The logical part of his brain, which seemed to be vacationing when it came to Blaine as it had when he was crushing on Finn (not that he needed to reflect on that), mentioned that it would be silly for Blaine to ask his permission to serenade him. Serenades were kind of supposed to be a surprise. Kurt ignored that. Blaine was exactly the kind of gentleman who would ask Kurt's permission to serenade him. Maybe he didn't want to embarrass him, or cross the line between romantic and cheesy? Not that the second one wasn't still a possibility, but... oh wait, Blaine wanted an answer.

"Not at all," Kurt said, ignoring the fact that he sounded a little bit breathless. What would Blaine sing to him? _Teenage Dream_ again? Or something better, something a little less... suggestive perhaps? Blaine just nodded.

"What can I get you?" the barista asked as Blaine stepped forward in line.

"Uh, a medium drip, and a grande nonfat mocha for this guy, and maybe I could get him to split one of those Cupid cookies," Blaine smiled charmingly at the girl as he smiled at everyone, reaching down to pull out his wallet.

"You know my coffee order?" It had taken Mercedes _years _to know his coffee order. Even Rachel couldn't remember it.

"Of course I do," Blaine said, like it was silly to suggest that he wouldn't.

"That'll be $8.40," the barista said as Blaine began pulling money out of his wallet and Kurt reached for his.

"Don't even bother, dummy. It's on me." Blaine was buying him coffee? "Keep the change," Blaine said to the barista as he handed over a ten.

"I do believe I have a new favorite holiday," Kurt said excitedly to the uncaring barista. Sorry, Fashion Week, the possibility of having Blaine serenade him outweighed even couture.

"How's your club doing?" Blaine said as he placed their coffees on their favorite table, which thankfully did not have anything Valentine's Day related on it. Yes, Kurt was definitely a fan now, but Dalton was more than enough for him.

"I haven't actually heard from them much, but that's not a good sign. Valentine's Day in that group is a little like... I don't even have a proper analogy. There's always tears, laughter, anger, betrayal... I could go on and on." Kurt sighed. "With the addition of the Finn-Quinn-Rachel-Puck-Sam... oh who knows who's involved! I swear I need a flow chart to keep up with them. The point is, Valentine's Day is probably not going to be pretty at McKinley."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. Is that what you and Finn were talking about on the phone the other day?" Blaine asked, taking a sip of his coffee and placing the Cupid cookie Kurt was not going to eat any of in the middle of the table on a napkin.

"No. Finn's refusing to tell me about his girl problems. However, he did give me completely unsurprising Karofsky news."

"Let me guess." Blaine pretended to ponder. "He's _not_ going to be the New Directions' new male vocalist?"

"Ding, ding, ding! Not that anyone could have guessed that." Kurt rolled his eyes. "And apparently, my poor, naive, loveable step-brother tried to convince him to come to Dalton and make things right with me."

"I'm guessing that one didn't go over too well either."

"Right again." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Don't look now, but I think that guy's checking you out," Blaine said, leaning a little so he could see around Kurt. "Yep, he's definitely checking you out."

"_Blaine_," Kurt hissed. "No more calling over boys that might be interested in me so I can make an idiot of myself, okay?"

"I don't think I have to call him over." Kurt turned in horror, just in time to be eye-level with the Dalton freshman.

"Griffin told me to give this to you," the freshman informed him nervously before darting off, his friends giggling.

"That one's Wes' brother," Blaine said, pointing to the only Chinese-looking one at the table.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Kurt said, unfolding the note from the hockey player and thanking several Greek gods that it was written on plain, college-ruled paper, rather than one of those stupid, stupid hearts.

"He could have an _adopted_ brother," Blaine said with a shrug. "How would you know? You and your sibling don't exactly share any striking resemblances."

"Touché." Kurt sighed as he read.

"What's it say?"

"'_Dear Kurt, meet me in Room 142 in the Dalton building Saturday at 3 o'clock. Don't worry, I won't make you late for Warbler rehearsal. - Griff. W.''_" Kurt glared at his best friend. "This is _so_ your fault."

"To be fair, this was not my intention. Are you going to meet him?" Blaine asked casually.

"No!" Blaine smiled.

"Good, I wouldn't if I were you. Room 142 is the Empty Room, which is where students go to make out... or more, depending on the students." Blaine cracked up laughing at Kurt's face. "Oh, and we don't have practice until _Sunday morning_."

"He asked me to meet him..." Kurt shuddered.

"Relax. He promised he wouldn't make you late for rehearsal." Blaine winked. Judging by Kurt's expression, the countertenor didn't find that comforting. "Just don't go."

Kurt sighed, looking at the note. "I feel bad though. You obviously got his hopes up, crushing them would just be mean."

"I'm pretty sure it's either that or you marry him, at this point." Kurt glared.

"False dilemma, much? I'm not that worried about Griffin. Maybe I'll just go to tell him that I'm not interested in him."

"Okay then. Eat half the cookie."

"No"

"But-"

"No.

"I-"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"This is being ungrateful. I paid for that cookie."

"May God forgive me for my sins."

"Shut up."

"No."

* * *

><p><em>I was never satisfied with casual encounters<br>I can't hide my need for two hearts that bleed with burning love  
>That's the way it's got to be<br>Romeo & Juliet, they never felt this way, I bet  
>So don't underestimate my point of view<em>

"So where do I get to traumatize today?" Charlie asked as he flopped on one of the couches, kicking two random Warblers who didn't seem the least surprised in the process.

"You do realize as someone who works to separate yourself from the Warblers at all costs, we shouldn't technically allow you on Warbler bonding trips," Wes said sternly. Charlie ignored him, turning instead to one of the random Warblers he had kicked and asking for a foot rub.

"Aw, come on, Wes. Charlie's been around for longer than half of us. He's a member of the family," Blaine said with a grin, sitting in one of the only empty love seats right near the council, who got separate armchairs. Apparently there had been an incident with them sharing a couch.

"A scary thought if there ever was one," Kurt added, taking the seat next to Blaine.

"In the spirit of Valentine's Day, today we're playing pseudo-date." Immediately the atmosphere went wild, the Warblers high-fiving and cheering. Blaine groaned.

"Pseudo-date?" Kurt asked, a little tired of being the only one that didn't know.

"Pseudo-date is the reason we're meeting so early," it was before classes, "and the reason that we're all excused from classes today." More cheers followed Wes' statement, though no one seemed surprised.

"Essentially, we're all going on one big, day-long date," Blaine explained, not sounding particularly pleased.

"Polyamory!" Charlie cheered, earning a few more cheers from the other excited Warblers. "My favorite," he added with a dirty wink. Kurt wrinkled his nose and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Not the kind Charlie's thinking of," David said, rolling his eyes along with Blaine and half the Warblers.

"Speak for yourself," Charlie said with a grin. "Just don't get too clingy, Blainers." Charlie grinned over at his best friend, who scoffed. Then Charlie raised an eyebrow and Blaine turned _bright red_. Oh GaGa, Kurt didn't need to think about that. Nuh-uh.

"Who's idea was this? I would _personally_ like to kill him," Blaine said, face still fire-engine red, sweeping a glare around the room.

"Oh relax," Wes said with a roll of his eyes, elbowing David in the stomach because he was chuckling. "We're all friends here."

_I hate you so much_, Blaine mouthed to Charlie, who just winked at him.

"Our dates have always gotten a bit creative..." David and Wes shared a look, and Kurt tried not to laugh at the double entendre. "So that's our warning to you, Endearing." Kurt rolled his eyes at the nickname and David flashed him a smile.

"First off," Wes began, pulling out a scroll with an enumerated list that seemed to have many items, lots of crossed-out words, and some drawings, one or two of which looked a little inappropriate. It was obviously something Wes and David had come up with together. "Breakfast... at Gerigno's." The Warblers cheered again, and Kurt was a little annoyed at not knowing _anything_.

"Gerigno's is one of the best places in town,' Blaine explained, obviously a mind-reader. "It's also one of the only places that's Warbler-friendly, and that's just because the staff are so nice it's a little bit ridiculous. Don't expect them to behave, but we're not going to get kicked out."

* * *

><p><em>I've tried to hide it so that no one knows<br>But I guess it shows  
>When you look into my eyes<br>What you did and where you're comin' from  
>I don't care, as long as you love me, baby<em>

The Warblers piled into cars, everybody but Kurt having some strange instinct for where they were supposed to go, who were the drivers, and who had room left in their cars. Blaine dragged Kurt along by the hand as he usually did. More than ever, that felt like a metaphor for his entire relationship with the Warblers.

"Charlie's allowed to _drive_?" Kurt asked in horror as he sat behind the passenger seat in Charlie's SUV. "What crazy DMV driver let _you_ get your license?"

"Hey!" Charlie objected. "I'm a great driver."

"You're in neutral," Blaine pointed out from the passenger seat as Charlie tried to back out of his parking space.

"We're doomed," Kurt announced.

"Blaine, my friend, you are a brave soul for volunteering to sit in the front," Thad's little brother Mason commented from the seat behind Charlie. Blaine just shrugged, but he was holding the handle on the door quite tightly.

"No faith," Charlie muttered as he finally got the car into reverse and started to pull out of the parking lot. He stole a quick look at Blaine, making Kurt nervous, and then they both yelled "Beep! Beep! Backing up! Wide load! _Wide _load!" and cracked up laughing.

"I love that movie," Blaine said with a grin as Charlie looked in his mirror, not bothering to turn around like most people backing up and almost bumping David's Escalade in the process.

_We're gonna die_, Mason mouthed to Kurt, and he nodded back. Not only was Charlie driving, but Blaine was in the kind of mood where he didn't tend to stop Charlie, rather joining in on the fun. Kurt had only seen Blaine like this once before, and that was on the ride back from Sectionals. Still, even then he had been able to reel himself in.

"I saw that," Charlie said, turning around to glare at Mason as he took a sharp right out of the Dalton parking lot, slamming both Kurt and Blaine into their doors.

"Charlie, look at the road!" Kurt exclaimed, and Charlie did so with a huff.

"Baby," he muttered, probably thinking Kurt couldn't hear him.

"_Bruised_ baby," Kurt corrected, rubbing his arm where it had hit the door.

"Charlie, I think we're going to wrong way," Mason commented.

"Shut up, sophomore," Charlie directed to the backseat, thankfully not turning around this time. "I'm driving, thus I direct."

"So, how are things with you and Lucas?" Blaine asked casually, rubbing his arm as well. Charlie slammed on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the road, and turned to glare at Blaine, ignoring the horns behind them and the fact that they had almost been rear-ended.

"Don't you know not to talk to the driver?" Charlie said, and Mason gaped at him. "I'm trying to focus on the road."

"One of these cars behind us is going to get road rage, and we're going to cause a major accident," Kurt commented, turning around the see a very large, very angry man behind the wheel of the car behind them, and quickly facing forward again.

"Don't you know not to slam on your brakes in a 35 randomly?" Blaine asked, checking out the cars behind them in the mirror on his side. Charlie huffed and slammed on the accelerator, jerking them all forward to the point that their seatbelts snapped them back. "Touchy subject much?" Blaine asked again once they were moving, but thankfully Charlie ignored him this time.

"Blaine, all of the other Warblers turned left out of the parking lot," Mason commented as they got farther and farther away from Dalton at almost 60 in a 35.

"Mason, I'm sure it's fine. Charlie and I have lived in Westerville for all of our lives, I'm sure he knows where we're going."

"Thank you for visiting Westerville," Kurt read the sign to his right as the speed limit changed to 55 and Charlie sped up another 10 miles per hour.

"Charlie, you're going to get us pulled over," Blaine said calmly, eying the speedometer.

"Or killed," Mason added, significantly quieter.

"God dammit, why did you have to bring up Lucas?" Charlie almost snarled as he sped up some more to turn a completely illegal U-turn over the yellow lines and charge back in the other direction, ignoring the honking of horns from both sides of the road and the minor accidents he had caused.

"Charlie, deep breaths," Blaine commented, all three passengers rubbing their necks from sudden, violent whiplash.

"We're about 20 minutes from Gerigno's," Charlie said sullenly, and the crazy boy didn't talk for the rest of the trip, despite the guilty and confused looked Blaine kept flashing him and the comments from Mason on his driving.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter is abnormally short, and I apologize, but the Warblers bonding event, which has already been written, turned into a monster and made this chapter way too long, so this is really the only place I could logically split it. Don't worry, everyone survives Charlie's driving. So, more very soon. Promise.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_All Out of Love_' by Air Supply  
>'<em>Blessed<em>' by Christina Aguilera  
>'<em>Paint It Black<em>' by the Rolling Stones (mentioned)  
>'<em>Black in Black<em>' by AC/DC (mentioned)  
>'<em>Welcome to the Black Parade<em>' by My Chemical Romance (mentioned)  
>'<em>Without Love<em>' from _Hairspray_ (mentioned)  
>'<em>The Power of Love<em>' by Celine Dion  
>'<em>Wanted<em>' by Hunter Hayes  
>'<em>Cherish<em>' by Madonna  
>'<em>As Long As You Love Me<em>' by the Backstreet Boys

**Reviews are Love.**


	20. Let There Be War

"Where have you guys been?" Wes asked in his commanding voice as the previous occupants of Charlie's car walked into Gerigno's rubbing their necks, Mason complaining loudly until Thad shot him a look. "You're late."

"Wes, that is not the voice you use on a date," David said firmly but teasingly. Was Kurt really the only one who knew that he knew that for a fact? "We thought Charlie had killed you guys," David added. Kurt saw his arm shift subtly, obviously going for Wes' hand under the table. They were getting bolder and bolder.

"He almost did," Kurt said, glaring at the aforementioned boy.

"18 times," Mason added, taking a seat at the younger section of the Warbler table. No matter what Wes said about equality amongst singers of equal talent, the Warblers were usually divided into a freshman/sophomore section and a junior/senior section.

"We're ready to order," Wes called out to no one in particular, but almost immediately a waiter, dressed in glossy black shoes, black pants, a maroon shirt with a black and white checkered tie, and a smile, appeared at his shoulder.

"Hey there! Everybody here?" the waiter asked, and Kurt could tell he was someone who was genuinely excited to be awake and interacting with annoying people at this early hour of morning.

"Great, another peppy person," Michael whispered next to Kurt, making him laugh.

"Another?" Kurt asked, and Michael pointed to Blaine, making Kurt laugh some more.

"Something funny?" Blaine asked, and Kurt quickly answered in the negative, not wanting Blaine to be offended, but he couldn't stop laughing, and neither could Michael. "Okay..." Blaine said uncertainly, looking between the two of them.

"My name is Antoine Mazzagatti, but that's too much of a mouthful even for me, so you can all call me Tony, and I'll be your server for today. What can I get you, and if it wouldn't be too much of a bother for me to know now how many checks there will be and whom will be on which?" Tony asked excitedly and quickly, as if it honestly wouldn't bother him if Wes didn't tell him.

"All on one," Wes replied, and Tony's happy facial expression didn't change for even a moment. It was a little bit creepy.

"Excellent then, though that might turn out to be a hefty check!" A few Warblers laughed, but Kurt had a feeling it was mostly out of pity. "What can I get for you?"

The Warblers ended up ordering plenty of huge platters of food, the menu obviously being geared towards big groups. Looking at groups of three and four and even couples around the diner, Kurt wondered if they had gotten a different menu or if they were all just food vacuums.

"This place is nice," Kurt said to Michael, looking around the diner. He wouldn't go so far as to call it a restaurant, with the blue-and-white checkered-tile floors and the jukebox in the corner, but the walls were painted a dark ivory, the tables, booths, and chairs were sturdy wood instead of plastic, the menus were embossed leather, and the decorations were classy paintings (Kurt's best guess for the style was abstract, but painting wasn't his chosen medium of art).

"It's the perfect mix of relaxed diner and formal restaurant," Michael agreed from next to him. "Except the waiters creep me out a little. The only other time you see people that's expressions never change is when you're watching the bad guy in serial killer movies." Kurt laughed. "At least they have fast service."

"_I..._ have an awesome idea," Charlie announced, and Wes sighed, looking a little nervous. Kurt didn't blame him. Somehow, Charlie had, despite being the last one to arrive, ended up at the head of the table, Wes at his right hand, and David holding Wes' hand underneath the table still. "Drum roll please." All the Warblers pounded on the table, creating no sort of beat, and getting confused, but not annoyed, looks from the other tables.

"Nice drum roll, guys," David commented, having finally released Wes' hand to join in. Wes had crossed his arms over his chest pointedly.

"Pick-up line contest!" Charlie volunteered. A few people groaned, but most cheered. The Warblers: easily excitable. "If you're going to regret this in the morning... we can sleep until the afternoon."

"Thus begins the worst, dirtiest, most terrifying array of pick-up lines that you will ever hear. Yet, idiots still want to _date _these guys." Blaine shook his head in disgust.

"Don't think you're getting out of this, Blainers." Charlie paused contemplatively. "Is that Windex you're wearing? Because I can see myself in your pants."

"And not just thanks to the video camera," Jeff joked, and Blaine banged his head against the table. He then continued the game, going with the classic, "Can I borrow your library card? 'Cause I'd like to check you out."

"Are your feet tired? 'Cause you've been running through my mind _all_ day long."

"Are you lost? 'Cause it's strange to see an angel so far from heaven!"

"Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I have to walk by you again?" Charlie added to his own game. "That _totally_ works."

"Yeah, on bimbos," Blaine said with a snort.

"And you," Charlie replied, but Blaine ignored that one. "All right then, sassy. What do _you_ think is a good pick-up line?"

Blaine paused, thinking for a second. "Pick-up lines are either corny or stupid, and either way they don't work. It's called being _charming_. Try it sometime."

"Yeah, yeah, Prince Charming, that just means you can't think of one," Charlie said, sticking his tongue out at Blaine.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a reply." Charlie turned away, victorious, right before Blaine said, "If you're going to stick that thing out you might as well put it to good use."

"Would you like to try an Australian kiss?" Nick asked as everyone went 'oh, snap'. When Jeff looked at his questioningly, he continued, "it's just like a French kiss, only it's down under."

"Excuse me, but I think I dropped something... my jaw!"

"You've been very naughty!" Charlie said coyly, and Kurt had _way_ too vivid an image of him saying that not-so-teasingly. "Go to my room!"

"Is your dad a thief? Because he stole the sparkle from the stars in the sky and put it in your eyes."

"Excuse me, miss," Thad said, leaning into the aisle where a girl was passing by. "Are you a Hostess?"

"Uh, no," the girl asked, looking between her outfit and the nearest hostess', confused.

"'Cause you've got some sweet cakes!" Thad probably wouldn't be the last person slapped that day.

"I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I can make your bed rock." Mason groaned as soon as Michael said that. Sure enough, Jeff, Kendricke, Oliver, and Thad (who clearly didn't think one slap was enough) starting singing.

_Oh baby, I be stuck to you like glue  
><em>_Baby, wanna spend it all on you  
><em>_Baby, my room is the G spot, call me Mr. Flintstone  
><em>_I can make your bed rock_

"Lo and behold, the best and the brightest boys Ohio has to offer," Blaine mumbled under his breath, making Kurt laugh.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Charlie asked Wes, who ignored him. "Well, when you want a _man_friend, come talk to me."

"Are you religious? 'Cause I'm here to answer your prayers."

"Do you have a map? 'Cause I just got lost in your eyes."  
>"Can I see that label? I just wanted to know if you were made in heaven."<p>

"Do you have a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them.

"Rip-off!" Charlie declared loudly, and Kurt looked around the restaurant. How were these people not bothered by them?

"And here's all your food," Tony said brightly, appearing at Charlie's elbow and making the crazy boy fall out of his chair in shock. "Needed a bunch of help to grab all this for all you growing boys!" Tony handed out food as Charlie was helped off the ground by one of the other waiters, whom he immediately tried to hit on... using a pick-up line of course.

"Thanks for helping me," Charlie said, as the man pulled him up. Licking a finger and touching it to the waiter's maroon shirt, he then said, "Here, let me help _you _out of those wet clothes, Arthur," reading the man's name off his nametag. Miraculously, the waiter laughed before letting go so Charlie could sit back in his seat.

"If I said you were an angel, would you treat me like the devil tonight?" Nick added.

"Yes," Jeff answered immediately, making everyone die laughing.

"Hi, I'm new in town. Can I get directions to your house?"

"You look like the type of girl-slash-guy that's heard every line in the book. So what's one more?"

"Hi, I make more money than you can spend," Thad said with a grin.

"Inheriting 80 million doesn't mean much when you have a weak heart," Mason added from the younger side of the table, sharing a grin with his brother.

"Would you all just shut up so I can eat my breakfast in peace?" Blaine asked, annoyed but affectionate. By mutual agreement, all the Warblers shut up to inhale large amounts of food in record time.

It was Jeff who started it, followed quickly by Nick, the council, and then the rest of the Warblers, all of them looking at Blaine for guidance. Blaine grinned at the familiar introduction, which didn't sound quite right to Kurt, but he quickly joined in.

_I thought love was only true in fairy tales  
><em>_Meant for someone else but not for me  
><em>_Love was out to get me  
><em>_That's the way it seemed  
><em>_Disappointment haunted all of my dreams_

Blaine hopped up onto the table with a grin, sending empty platters clattering down to the floor and drawing the attention of the patrons who hadn't already looked over at the table when an entire talented a cappella choir had suddenly burst into song. Kendricke got up next to him and hip-checked him away, making him fall into Charlie's lap, to sing the chorus with the rest of the Warblers backing him up, the chorus sounding less like The Monkees and more like Smash Mouth.

_And then I saw your face  
><em>_Now I'm a believer  
><em>_Not a trace  
><em>_Of doubt in my mind  
><em>_I'm in love_

_Ohh, I'm a believer  
><em>_I couldn't leave her if I tried_

Jeff and Nick hopped up, making Kurt worry about how much weight the table would hold. It was huge, yes, and sturdy, but three people standing on it, one as well-built as Kendricke, made him nervous. They dueted the next verse.

_I thought love was more or less a givin' thing_  
><strong>Seems the more I gave, the less I got<br>**_What's the use of trying? _**(Do-do-do-do-do-do)  
><strong>**All you get is pain**_ (Do-do-do-do-do-do)  
><em>_**When I needed sunshine I got rain**_

Jeff, Nick, Kendricke, and Blaine sang the next chorus, and the rest of the song, together, and Wes was right. _Everyone_ in the Warblers was talented, it was a shame that they used a front man so often. A number like this would put the New Directions to shame at Regionals. Kurt's stomach twisted at how much that thought seemed like betrayal and was suddenly glad he was the person who had eaten the least at the table.

_And then I saw your face  
><em>_Now I'm a believer  
><em>_Not a trace  
><em>_Of doubt in my mind  
><em>_Now I'm in love_

_Ohh, I'm a believer  
><em>_I couldn't leave her if I tried_

"Ah. Oh yeah," Charlie added, more talking than singing, but it was Charlie, so Kurt had expected no less.

_Love was out to get me (Do-do-do-do-do-do)  
><em>_Now that's the way it seemed (Do-do-do-do-do-do)  
><em>_Disappointment haunted all my dreams_

_And then I saw your face  
><em>_Now I'm a believer  
><em>_Not a trace  
><em>_Of doubt in my mind  
><em>_I'm in love_

_Ohh, I'm a believer  
><em>_I couldn't leave her if I tried_

_Then I saw your face  
><em>_Now I'm a believer  
><em>_Not a trace  
><em>_Of doubt in my mind_

_Said I'm a believer  
><em>_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  
><em>_I'm a believer  
><em>_Said I'm a believer, yeah  
><em>_I'm a believer_

"Blaine, Jeff, Nick, Kendricke, behave," Wes said sternly, but he was drowned out by the clapping and cheering of the other occupants of the restaurant.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Blaine yelled out as he took his seat next to Kurt. "Well, that was fun."

"What is it with you and furniture?"

"So what's next?" Charlie asked before Blaine got the chance to answer Kurt's question, immediately quieting down the Warblers. He didn't have any authority, of course, he wasn't even an actual Warbler, but it was more fear of what he could and _would_ do to them if they talked over him. "Where to next?"

"Do you guys all go on a romantic walk in the park?" Kurt asked sarcastically, and then was horrified when David, Thad, Blaine, and Charlie looked at him like he was a genius. "That was a joke."

"But it's such a good idea!" Charlie protested, looking at Wes with the biggest puppy-dog eyes ever.

"It's not on the scroll, Charlie," Wes said firmly, but then he noticed David was giving him the same puppy-dog eyes.

"It was a joke."

"_It's not on the scroll_."

"Majority rules," Charlie argued, sticking his tongue out and then yelling for the check over Wes arguing that David and Charlie were not in fact the majority.

"It was a joke," Kurt groaned, and Michael laughed at his distress.

"Never make a joke that you wouldn't risk being taken seriously. Especially not around them," he replied, earning himself a glare from Kurt.

"Here's the check for ya, sir," Tony said brightly as he appeared at Wes' elbow, obviously aware that popping up behind Charlie and scaring him again would not be a good idea. Tony placed the check in front of Wes. "Thank you all for dining here this lovely winter morning, and I hope you have a great day."

"Charlie, I think this is for you," David said, leaning over Wes to look at the check with a grin.

"I thought you had the debit card connected to the Warbler's account," Charlie said with a frown. "I mean, I can cover, but-"

"Not the check." David plucked something the size of a business card out of the check and handed it to Charlie, leaning over Wes in the process. "Arthur's phone number."

"I officially win the pick-up line contest!" Charlie announced, holding up the card victoriously to cheers.

Kurt and Blaine were the only ones who noticed that he left it with the trash on the table when they left the restaurant.

* * *

><p>"Wes, it's freezing," Kurt complained when they arrived at the park nearest to Gerigno's. Kurt and Blaine had managed to slip into Wes' car with he and David, leaving some other crazy idiots to ride with Charlie. As long as they didn't ask him about Lucas they would probably be fine.<p>

"You complain as if this were my idea," Wes replied, hugging himself as the other Warblers ran around and enjoyed the snow. "If I remember properly, I believe we have _you _to blame for this wondrous romp in the snow."

"Wes, are you being a bad sport?" David demanded as he slid down the mini hill next to them on a trash can lid, landing right at Wes' feet. "Come on, live a little."

"This is ridiculous, no one is dressed for this!" Wes said, looking out at the Warblers, most of whom had forgone jackets over their blazers because it looked a little bit ridiculous.

"I'll warm you up," David said, standing up and reaching to put a hand on Wes' waist, quietly enough that Kurt wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't _right there_, a fact which they seem to have forgotten.

"Ahem," Kurt fake-coughed, not trying to keep them apart but simply trying to alert them of the fact that they were in a public place.

"Kidding," David said with a grin, withdrawing his hand. "I'm going to go see if I can de-gel Blaine's hair with snow. Later." David whirled away on his trash can lid (all the Warblers apparently had them. Kurt wondered mentally if they had stolen them and decided not to ask for the sake of Wes' heart health).

"How much do you know?" Wes asked, turning towards him once David was out of ear-shot.

"Enough. More than enough, actually." Kurt turned, expecting anger, but Wes just looked kind of sad.

"When did you find out?" Kurt counted back.

"Maybe two weeks ago. How long have you two-"

"Five years," Wes said solemnly.

"Wow," Kurt said, shocked. Yes, he knew Wes and David were a thing, but he had kind of figured they just kept each other company, not that they'd been madly in love for years. "So why aren't you-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Wes interrupted Kurt again, before walking away to play in the snow with his secret boyfriend and the rest of his friends.

"See, now you're being a party pooper all by your lonesome," Charlie's voice commented from somewhere.

"Where are you?" Kurt asked, scanning the immediate vicinity for pink hair.

"Look _up_."

"Oh my gosh," Kurt said, stepping quickly away as he realized Charlie was perched in a tree directly above his head. "What are you doing?"

"I like trees."

"You're cra-" Kurt cut himself off as a snow ball hit him square in the back and almost sent him face-first into the snow. "Who dares?"

"Come and get us!" Jeff's voice yelled out from behind one of the trees, and it was all-out war between the Warblers. Charlie provided commentary from his perch in the tree, where he could see everything that was going on perfectly, including where everyone was hiding and who was working with whom. He was wildly unhelpful.

"There are Jeff and Nick, center field, tossing snowballs at the van Heusner brothers, who are hiding by their left flank... nope, their _other_ left flank." Kurt heard a groan from Thad and cheers of success from Neff. "Blaine is sneaking up behind Kurt, clearly with a death wish..."

"Hey," Blaine said as he took a spot next to Kurt, ignoring Charlie's commentary. "Partners?" he asked, holding out a snowball.

"Sure," Kurt said, taking it and using it to slam Kendricke in the face as he tried to sneak up on Blaine.

"And a good shot there from The Countertenor, looks like The Beatboxer's down for the count. There go the twin dynamos of Wes and David, who're totally screwing, approaching the double agent tag team Oliver and Michael from the front and back. Shoot, Oliver's out thanks to an assist from Neff, who seem to be running the whole program."

"Let's move over here." Blaine ducked and weaved over to the spot where Wes and David had been hiding, crouching behind the safety of the small wall they had built.

"Klaine is on the move and _oh_! Michael nails David in the face and races away as Wes stops to help him up. _Weakness, _Wes, weakness."

"Charlie's finally lost it, hasn't he?" Kurt asked and Blaine chuckled, pegging Michael in the back with a snowball as he ran away.

"And an assist from Helmethead nails Michael as he almost gets away. Two freshman get taken out by Wes, an easy double lob that leaves both of them in the dust... too bad I don't know their names."

"Wes is coming back over here. Move or strike?" Blaine asked.

"Move. We have to save the best for last." Blaine grinned in agreement and they quickly ducked back to their original hiding spot, Kurt narrowly avoiding a snowball from Nick.

"And Neff almost got The Countertenor, but they weren't accurate enough. They make up for it by pegging three sophomores down a line like dominos. Neff is on _fire_!" Charlie cackled from his perch. "And Mason van Huesner lands an easy toss at Nick, quelling Neff's joint efforts and leaving Jeff to get revenge on his lover."

"Mason's _so_ going to pay for that," Blaine muttered, and Kurt was sure Jeff was thinking the same thing.

"Jeff repays the favor by slamming Mason what looked like _very hard_ in the face and aiming a weak throw at Wes who dodged it easily. Helmethead takes out a freshman... maybe a sophomore. Ow! That was entirely unnecessary!"

"Go sophomore," Kurt muttered.

"Or freshman," Blaine added.

"Wes is headed for Klaine and they run under Jeff's fire. _Oh_, Blaine _wipes out_ and is hit with like twenty snowballs at once. Kurt didn't even pause. Go Kurt."

Kurt almost paused as Blaine went down, but he _so_ wanted to take out Wes. He ducked behind a tree, trying to ignore Charlie's loud voice which was probably telling Wes exactly where he was a listening for Wes' footsteps.

He could hear Wes and Jeff firing and then one (probably Wes, as Jeff hadn't moved from his central fort yet) end up in the trees behind him. Kurt spun around the far side of his tree from Wes, using Cheerios training tricks to step on the snow without making a sound. Coach Sylvester was very big on the idea of her Cheerios being able to float instead of walk, and it was very helpful. The air was crisp and the Warblers were watching with amusement, only Charlie talking, so it was very easy to hear as Wes snuck through Jeff's fire and rested against the far side of Kurt's tree. Three, two...

"And The Countertenor nails Wes, who was moronically trying to hide behind the same tree as he was. Jeff, still mad at the 'unfair' fire against his lov- Ow! Jeff! Anyway, all that remains is Jeff and Kurt, the snow ninja."

"Come out, come out wherever you are," Jeff taunted, but he was facing the wrong way to see Kurt and the countertenor ducked behind he and Blaine's original fort. Even Charlie was quiet now. "Come on, Kurtsie, I don't want to hurt you but I will."

"Dude, he's right behind-" Charlie didn't get to finish his sentence because Jeff whipped around and received a snowball in the face for his troubles. "Owned!" Charlie declared happily as the other Warblers cheered. Jeff was glaring and Nick was laughing, Blaine ran up behind Kurt to give him a huge hug.

"Who's the better partner now, Jeff?" Blaine asked from behind him, and Kurt was trying desperately to ignore how intimate being wrapped in Blaine's arms from behind was. There were so many days left until Valentine's Day.

"Oh, Blaine, I never doubted that you two make the better couple," Jeff said with a smirk, then gave Nick a long, exaggerated kiss that had the dark-haired boy blushing. What happened to waiting until Valentine's Day to come out? Did they think that didn't count?

"Ha ha," Blaine said sarcastically, but he let go of Kurt.

"It's too bad the pond's frozen," Charlie declared, leaping out of the tree like a monkey and landing softly next to Kurt and Blaine. "I could have owned Wes for the third year in a row at aluminum foil boat races!"

"It's not too cold for kites!" Mason declared from behind them, Thad glaring at him again. No matter what his little brother said or did, Thad always glared at him.

"Where do you suppose we get kites?" Thad asked coldly.

"This is _not_ on the list," Wes said, but it sounded less passionate than it had earlier. Clearly, Wes had loosened his idea of having a control over the Warblers.

"Well, what's next on your list?" David asked, and Wes smiled at him.

"It _should_ be," Charlie interrupted before Wes could get a chance to say, "'messing with random people on the street'. That's the best way to spend a date _ever_."

"Like you go on dates," Blaine commented, and Charlie looked a little bashful.

"I've been on a few," he argued, but it was weak and he knew it.

"I agree with Charlie," Mason commented and Kurt didn't even bother looking for Thad's reaction, knowing he would be glaring. "We put on funny accents and go around asking people directions to places that don't exist."

"Chat with random people and see how long they'll talk to you."

"Make up a ridiculous survey."

"Give flowers to people that seem sad."

"You know what we could do here?" David asked suddenly, changing his attention from Charlie to the rest of the Warblers. "We could go ice-blocking."

"No towels," Jeff suggested.

"Dude, major butt burn."

"Isn't that what we're already doing with the trash can lids?" Nick pointed out. "We should build an ice castle."

"An ice fortress!" Oliver and Mason yelled at the same time.

Once most of the Warblers had agreed, it was David's job to convince Wes. "Come on, Wes, we used to build sand castles all the time. This is just a bit... colder," Wes took one look at David's face and sighed.

"Fine, but after lunch we are definitely doing the next thing on the scroll." David nodded in agreement before someone asked the obvious question.

"Which is?" Blaine asked, ignoring the little bits of ice Charlie was slipping down the back of his blazer.

"Live _Clue_," Wes announced to cheers. "David and I spent all night setting it up at Dalton." Wes exchanged a look with his... David.

"Well, most of the night," Charlie commented loudly, and they both ignored him without so much as a blink.

"So, for the castle..." David, Charlie, and Thad gave directions, with very unwanted commentary from Jeff, Nick, and Mason. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Do you want to stay and watch someone get seriously injured due to tomfoolery, or do you want to see my favorite place in Westerville?" Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear.

"The latter please, though if we stay we'll know what truly happened to the victim and won't have to get contradiction stories from everyone else after," Kurt pointed out, making Blaine laugh. "Are we ditching the Warblers?"

"No, it's in the park. Come on!" Blaine urged while Wes; back was turned to watch David, grabbing Kurt's hand, pulling him backwards and almost tripping him, having grabbed the wrong hand, as usual. "Remember someone mentioned the pond earlier?" Blaine asked as he pulled Kurt eagerly up the hill that separated the area the Warblers were in from the majority of the park. "Well," he said as they reached the top, "there it is."

Kurt gasped. "Blaine, it's _gorgeous_," Kurt said, looking over the smooth pond surrounded by snow-coated evergreens.

"It's the perfect winter wonderland, isn't it?" Blaine sat down at the top of the hill, clearly inclined not to walk any further.

"Getting lazy on me, Anderson?" Kurt asked, not sitting.

"It looks much less pristine the closer you get, like most things. Sit," Blaine patted the ground next to him, and Kurt sat next to him like an obedient puppy. "Tell me about your club's shenanigans."

"Technically, they're not my club anymore," Kurt argued.

"Save your breath," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "I know you like these guys, but it's not the same."

"You know me too well." Kurt sighed. "Not terribly much is going on, but I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Mr. Schue is antagonizing them. He assigned love songs until Valentine's Day, with some Regionals detours in there I'm sure," Kurt said sarcastically, and Blaine snorted. He already knew the New Directions' style when it came to preparing for a competition, which was, of course, to not prepare at all. "Oh, and a kissing booth is under construction in my backyard."

Blaine cracked up. "Classy. How'd Finn get that one past your father?" Kurt shook his head.

"I was afraid to ask."

"Klaine! Stop fucking and come hang out with the rest of us!" They could hear Charlie's voice but it sounded far off.

"Have you decided if you're going to go meet up with Griffin in the Empty Room yet?" Blaine asked, trying not to smile as he did.

"I think I might," Kurt said, thwacking Blaine's arm. "What's the worst that can happen if I'm only there to turn him down?"

"He might cry, and then you'll marry him because you feel bad, soft heart," Blaine teased, earning another hit to his arm. "I'm serious, just send him a gently worded heart turning him down."

"And let everyone else see it?" Kurt demanded.

"I forgot, you haven't seen a Cupid yet, have you?" Blaine asked with a snicker.

"What's a-"

"I won't ruin the surprise," Blaine vowed, zipping his lips with his hand.

"Just promise me they're wearing clothing."

"That I can do."

"Good, I've seen enough guys walking down the hallway in their underwear for a lifetime," Kurt said seriously. They both managed not to laugh until they made eye contact, then they both died laughing.

"Well," Blaine said through fits of laugher, "you must have enjoyed the view." Kurt hit his arm again.

"I did _not_."

"Right."

"This is all your fault you know," Kurt accused his best friend, hitting his arm once again. "The only reason Griffin even talked to me was because of you."

"Nah, I'm sure he would have gotten around to it eventually, but for some reason guys don't find you very approachable." Blaine shrugged. "If they knew you turned into some sort of shy wallflower when they talk to you..." Blaine grinned.

"Shut up. I'm not used to being in a room with legions of attractive gay guys. Forgive me," Kurt said sarcastically.

"Relax, I'm kidding. And I'm sorry about Griffin. I didn't think he would get the wrong impression."

"That's better."

They sat in silence, discounting Charlie's yells about them doing dirty things alone together, for a few minutes before Kurt decided to give in to his curiosity, test his hypothesis, and tease Blaine a little, all at the same time. "So have you decided what song you're singing to some lucky guy on Valentine's Day?" Blaine blushed a bit at Kurt's question but smiled.

"I had a song in mind, one my brother suggested, but I'm not entirely sure that I like it..." Kurt had never seen Blaine so uncertain and unsure. It was adorable.

"Sing it for me," Kurt asked, and found some support for his theory when Blaine looked even more uncertain. "What? I'll be able to judge the song, and I assure you that I'm very woo-able," Kurt promised, fluttering his eyelashes and looking at Blaine dreamily, making Blaine laugh.

"Fine, but don't be too critical. I have a few options."

_To know him is to love him  
><em>_I'm going undercover  
><em>_To catch a glimpse but not get caught_

_But to see him could be worse  
><em>_If I don't get my head straight first  
><em>_On second thought I guess I'll not_

_He's almost brighter than the sun  
><em>_Seems to me to be unfair  
><em>_When you consider everyone  
><em>_Who pales when they compare  
><em>_When they compare_

_Can't hold a candle to him  
><em>_'Cause all the moths get in the way  
><em>_And they'll begin to chew his  
><em>_Entire attire until it frays_

_He outshines anyone  
><em>_Whoever might dare to bask in  
><em>_The same candlelight_

Kurt didn't need to pretend to be wooed. Not even a little bit. Blaine's song was perfect, flattering, atypical of him; everything Kurt could want in a serenade. He couldn't wait to hear the rest of it. "Wow," he said when he remember he was supposed to be criticizing. "Officially wooed."

"The only problem I have with the song," Blaine began, obviously more critical of his serenading than Kurt was, not that that was difficult, "is that it seems more _about_ someone than_ to_ them. I want to impress him, not convince everyone around him that he's amazing and sweet and..." Blaine trailed off, embarrassed. "I have another song I could do that addresses him more directly.

"Blaine, whatever you sing is going to sweep him off his feet, don't worry." Kurt guessed that either Blaine was going to choose the other song or that he didn't want Kurt to be suspicious, because what was the point of serenading him on a holiday he hated when Blaine had already sung him the song and they were all along right now? Why didn't Blaine ask him out right now?

"Do I get to know who the lucky guy is?" Kurt asked. Maybe he needed a little push.

"Actually-" Blaine began.

"I thought I heard a heavenly voice around here somewhere," Charlie interrupted, and Kurt almost strangled him. If he hadn't had so much practice controlling his temper against unfortunate coincidences, he probably would have. "I thought you would be taking advantage of your _alone time_," Charlie waggled his eyebrows, "rather than singing. Before Kurt or Blaine could say anything, Charlie second-guessed himself. "Although Blaine's room is devoid of a roommate at all times, and Kurt's roommate is in denial..."

"Charlie, stop being an ass for a second and sit down," Blaine said, patting the ground on the other side of him.

"Sorry, can't do that, sweetie. I've come to collect our deserters." Charlie stared down at them disapprovingly.

"Deserters?" Blaine asked in that oh-so-patient voice he always used around Charlie.

"Deserters from the ice fortress," Charlie said as though that was a perfectly sane explanation. "Come see." Charlie grabbed Blaine's hand, forcibly pulling him up despite his resistance, almost sending both toppling down the side of the hill away from the Warblers. Kurt stood under his own power after Charlie threatened to drag him up too. They only had to walk a few steps down the hill to see the ten-foot-tall, appropriately-named ice fortress peeking through the trees. The shape was modeled after a castle, a pointed main structure with a window carved into it and two spires.

"I must say, I'm impressed," Blaine said, looking over the ice fortress with a critical expression that was entirely fake.

"And all without your help, Mr. Smarty Pants," Charlie said happily, skipping down the hill and almost slipping twice. Blaine snickered and followed him at a safer pace, down to where David was carving the door with a stick.

"We will never know how they did this," Kurt commented to his fellow deserter, who chuckled.

"And they all avoided serious injury as far as I can tell," Blaine looked around, "though Nick's head looks a little worse for wear." Jeff was sitting on the ground with his legs out, holding Nick's head in his lap and stroking his hair. His forehead was red and rapidly bruising.

"They're so cute," Kurt said, a little bitter, but trying to be happy for his friends. He would have no reason to be bitter very shortly... hopefully.

"He's probably _so_ concussed," Blaine commented, but he was smiling a little bit too. As much as Valentine's Day was overcommercialized, love really did make everyone happy.

"Ta da!" David proudly showed off the door on the completed fortress. Kurt didn't have the heart to tell him the right side was slightly crooked and had a bump about two-thirds of the way up. He wasn't _heartless_.

"All right, weirdos, I have to admit that this is pretty impressive." All the Warblers cheered, except for Wes, who rolled his eyes, but smiled a little at his lover's happiness.

"Who's ready for lunch?" Wes asked, getting into the spirit a little and making David's face light up in a smile. How was it that Charlie and Kurt were the only ones who saw their interactions as more than friendly?

* * *

><p>"I don't understand why we can't go back to Gerigno's," Charlie said with a pout as the Warblers, artfully balancing their food, pulled together tables and chairs to create a Warblers table at the local Panera that was taken directly out of the Live Café. Kurt, happy with the restaurant selection, had ordered a salad and smoothie and was glad to be out of the cold.<p>

"Charlie, as nice as those waiters are, I think even they need a break from us," Blaine explained, grabbing a seat next to Charlie, who was probably just upset that he was no longer at the head of the table. Or he could want to take that waiter up on his offer, but Kurt doubted it.

"That was gonna be the fun part," Charlie said with a pout. "Seeing what it takes to break the façade of Tony's happiness." Blaine tried to cover his laughter with a disapproving expression.

"Charlie, if there are people capable of being tolerant of this madness you call a club, I don't see any reason to antagonize them," Kurt intervened, earning a smile from his best friend.

"Shouldn't it be this madness _we_ call a club?" Charlie said with a smile.

"Is this about Arthur?" Blaine teased, and Charlie's face soured immediately.

"Shut up."

"You do realize we're going to have a conversation later, right?" Blaine asked the crazy boy in a low tone. "If whatever is happening between you and L-"

"Please don't," Charlie mumbled over Lucas' name.

"is bad enough that it's affecting your already poor driving skills, then it is my responsibility to invoke the Best Friend Heart-to-Heart Clause," Blaine said firmly, and Kurt realized that he probably wasn't supposed to be hearing this conversation.

"The Best Friend Heart-to-Heart Clause of our relationship agreement, Doctor Sheldon Cooper?" Charlie asked sarcastically with a little laugh.

"Yes," Blaine said without hesitation. "You didn't know about that?"

"So, if you hate it when I dabble in your relationship, why do you get to dabble in mine?" Charlie asked, pouting again.

"I'm not _in_ a relationship, Charlie. And don't you dare argue with me," Blaine said quickly as Charlie opened his mouth to protest. "I'm not, but you are. I know you like to play the slut and I know you _are_ a slut sometimes, but I've known you well enough for long enough to know that you really care about L-"

"Blaine," Charlie protested again, his face tight.

"And I'm willing to bet a lot of money that he cares about you too. Please don't shut him out." Blaine looked imploringly at Charlie, who sighed.

"Later," was all he said, and he was saved from the rest of the Spanish Inquisition by Wes banging a gavel and announcing that they had twenty minutes left of lunch. "Did he buy a mini, more portable gavel?" Charlie asked, all traces of solemnity gone from his expression.

"Dear God, I think he did," Blaine said in horror, letting the subject drop. Kurt knew from experience that Charlie wasn't completely out of the woods yet.

"I'm guessing you and Lucas don't have Valentine's Day plans then," Blaine said at a slightly louder volume, but still quiet enough to be concealed by the rest of the Warblers.

"We wouldn't have anyway," Charlie said casually, his voice in complete juxtaposition with the holes he was trying to burn in Blaine's head with his eyes. "Not everyone likes your holiday and thinks stupid, embarrassing serenades are the way to get into somebody's pants." Charlie's eyes flicked to Kurt, making him mentally cheer, but Charlie seemed almost _uncomfortable_.

"When did it become my holiday? And I'm not trying to get into anyone's pants!" Blaine exclaimed, but his eyes flickered to Kurt as well, and he leaned forward to ask Charlie something in a tone that was actually low enough that Kurt couldn't hear.

"Of course not," Charlie answered loudly. "I would never..." Then Charlie was talking in low tones, and _hello_, he was sitting right next to them! He knew they were talking about him.

"But that's the reason you've been acting..." Blaine didn't even have to finish that sentence in low tones, Charlie obviously understood what Blaine meant.

"Well, you haven't put me in a very comfortable position here, Blaine," Charlie replied, annoyed. "Maybe if you listened to me I wouldn't have to-"

"I'm not listening to you because you're _wrong_," Blaine said, purposefully cutting Charlie off. "And here I have..." Blaine devolved into quiet talk again, and when he finished whispering, Charlie's only reply was a snort. "I'm serious, Charlie."

"Should I leave so you don't have to talk about me quietly?" Kurt asked, finally getting annoyed enough to say something.

"We're not talking about you," Blaine lied smoothly. Yes, Kurt knew he was lying. "I just thought of an issue that might be the cause of the tension between Charlie and L-"

"Blaine!" Charlie objected to Blaine's half-lie. Maybe he _had_ thought of a reason, but that wasn't what they were talking about, and Blaine purposefully neither confirmed nor denied that fact. At least he didn't _want_ to lie to Kurt. Maybe they were talking about Blaine serenading him... it would make sense.

"Ignore his squawking," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "Apparently L-"

"I will kill you."

"Lucas'," Blaine got out quickly before Charlie could interrupt again, "name is completely taboo."

"What about you, Kurtsie?" Charlie asked, clearly trying to direct Blaine's compassionate but irritating attention away from him. "Plans for our least favorite holiday?" Blaine shot Charlie a look that Kurt didn't understand. "Perhaps with a certain hockey boy?" Charlie was smirking.

Kurt glared at Blaine, who was now trying not to laugh. At least he understood the look. "I would say I can't believe you told him, but I'm actually not that surprised." When Charlie laughed, Kurt turned to him and gave him the same low-level bitch glare. "Worry about your own love like." And with that, Charlie went back to sulking.

"Do you though? Besides your wedding with Griffin?" Blaine asked rather earnestly and then rather teasingly, and Kurt's heart beat wildly in his chest, the last part of the sentence completely lost on him. He smiled a little shyly and shook his head, feeling a bit like a ditz, but unable to form words. Blaine was about to ask him out for his new favorite holiday. "Good, because-"

"You know," Mason said casually but loudly over Blaine's next words, "there isn't very much bonding going on right now." Kurt felt the urge to commit homicide for bad timing for the second time that day. _Why_ did people have to keep interrupting Blaine whenever they were talking about Valentine's Day? Kurt sneaked a glance at the presumably still sulking Charlie, but instead of looking gloomy, he looked relieved. Maybe he thought the change of topic would help keep Blaine off his back?

Charlie's eyes met Kurt's, and the countertenor mouthed _I'm sorry_, feeling bad for snapping at him about something he knew was a raw nerve, and Charlie shrugged, signing _nbd_ at him with his fingers as he looked around the table. Kurt laughed quietly at his flair and then realize the Warblers had been discussing what bonding event they could do in the remaining fifteen minutes of lunch.

"There's nothing creative to do while sitting around a table," David complained.

"And the people in here aren't interesting enough to people watch."

"This sucks."

* * *

><p>Kurt had no idea what to expect when it came to Live Clue. While the Warblers were complaining about the lack of lunchtime activity, he had been thinking over the game and trying to figure out how Live Clue was going to work with more than twenty Warblers, and he couldn't figure it out.<p>

"Hey Kurt," David called out casually, stepping up next to him as those who hadn't brought their cars took the back route from Dalton to Panera, which was just a path through the woods. Blaine had been dragged away by Charlie, and he hopefully wasn't stupid enough to bring Lucas up again while Charlie was driving. Kurt changed his mind; hopefully, _he_ was driving. "Do you want to be the killer?"

"Do I actually have to kill someone, or...?" David laughed.

"You can if you want to, but try not to get too much blood on the floor."

"I've spent all of lunch trying to figure this out. How does it work?" David sighed.

"I always forget you're a newbie, and we kind of just throw the freshman to the wolves. Well, I do. Wes apparently finds some way to educate them, because they always seem to know what we're doing. Maybe he makes them take classes or something," David said, acting horrified.

"So, Live Clue?" Kurt asked, before David could distract himself talking about Wes.

"I'm guessing you've never heard of _Cluedo: Discover the Secrets_?" David asked, and Kurt shook his head. "Neither had I until Wes came up with this idea. It's apparently a more modern day version of Clue, which Wes says sucks, but it has some aspects Wes twisted to make this game easier for us to play life-size." Wes apparently made an appearance in every sentence out of David's mouth.

"Okay," Kurt said acceptant.

"We have more weapons, and people that are more outside the game, who we assign. Plus, there are some things we made up."

"You're going to have to be a little more specific," Kurt said, the broadness of David's statements not helping. At least he wasn't talking about Wes again.

"Here's your backpack," David said, apparently ignoring him. "Inside are a rope, candlestick, dagger, revolver, baseball bat, lead pipe, wrench, trophy, poison, and axe. These are all the things you can choose to kill someone with, and subtle evidence of which one it was."

"Okay..."

"Everyone starts out alive and in the main lobby of the Dalton building. You get to choose someone to kill as everyone wanders off. Everyone knows someone's the killer, but they don't know who the victim is, so they're stuck between wanting to identify you and wanting to avoid you." David went on for a while, but eventually, Kurt understood.

"David, I think this is the most maniacal thing you have ever come up with," Kurt said, impressed.

"You really are a newbie, aren't you?"

* * *

><p>As David had specified, everyone was in the main lobby of the Dalton building. The office was empty, there were no teachers in sight, and all the Warblers were looking around warily. Five of them, and Kurt, had backpacks. The doors were locked and the windows shut.<p>

"Hey there, killer," Blaine said in a low tone, walking up to him.

"How did you..." Kurt asked, not even bothering to deny it.

"I know David was looking for a chance to talk to you alone, I overheard him and Wes talking, and I knew that he wouldn't get the chance to talk to you about whatever else it was because he would have to explain the game to you. Logic and the backpack dictates he made you one of the special people. Beyond that, I guessed. Don't worry, I'll be a good sport," Blaine said with a shrug. "Just don't kill me."

"No promises." Blaine glared. "Oh, you meant in the game?"

"Funny."

On cue, the bell rang. _As soon as the bell rings, people will flood the hallway. That's the perfect opportunity to kill someone and get out of there._ Kurt saw some of the Warblers leaving and grabbed the nearest one, Michael.

"On the floor," he said, trying to act scary, and Michael grinned.

"Use the trophy, it's the hardest one to figure out." Deciding to take his advice, Kurt pulled out the small plastic gold evidence, stuck it in Michael's hair, and then left. _Go to the third floor, second door on the right, there's an observation area that looks down the stairs where Klaine became a thing_.

"Is he dead?" Charlie asked dramatically, falling on his knees next to Michael once the hall had cleared of normal students.

"Jeez, I hope not," Mason said sassily.

"Ten bucks says he's just lying on the floor for the game," Jeff added.

"You guys suck," Charlie said with a pout, "and not in the good way, either." Charlie combed his fingers down Michael's blazer, through his pockets, stuck one in his mouth (oddly enough), before finding the piece in his hair.

"Something metal," Blaine commented, looking up to the one-way-window and winking. _Good choice_, he mouthed.

"'Cause that narrows it down." David leaned casually against the wall, a backpack on his shoulders as well. "If you want information, I'd find Jacob Greene."

"David, speak English and don't listen to Wes' craziness," Thad pleaded, but David walked away.

"He's either Scarlett or White," Blaine commented, phone in hand.

"Or Peacock," Charlie commented.

"Not polite enough."

"Help!" Everyone's heads snapped towards room 108, where the cry had come from. Half of the Warblers scrambled away, while the other half, including Blaine, headed there slowly, muttering variations of 'this is ridiculous'. "Someone's dead in here!" Blaine's head whipped up to look at Kurt, and then he darted in.

Kurt dashed downstairs and stood at the top of the staircase so he could hear. "There's nothing..." Charlie said, and as he did, Nick stumbled out with a backpack.

"Sorry, sorry!" Nick said. "I could have sworn..." he trailed off as he wandered off into another room.

"He's definitely Plum, if I remember right and Plum is the crazy, disoriented, absent-minded one," Blaine commented. "No need to worry about him." Kurt shooed up the stairs.

"Guys, we think we found another hint," Kendricke called from down a hallway, and how the hell was Kurt supposed to keep track of everything that was going on from the observation area that only showed the commons.

Once everyone had followed his arm, Kendricke took a sweep of the area, ducking into the office for a moment as Kurt rushed down the stairs. "Sorry, Kendricke," he said when the Warbler turned around, placing a bit of rope in the lapel of his blazer before he laid down.

"Taking out the players that are good, huh?" Kendricke asked from the floor. _Make sure there's only one body on the floor at a time. That means they actually need to keep track of who died and what was on them. Makes it more difficult, especially if they forget to._

"That's the best strategy," Kurt said with a smile. "Come on, Michael." _Bring the 'bodies' up to the observation tower and tell them to stay there._ Kurt hurried Michael upstairs, and then rushed downstairs to discover the body. "Gentleman, Kendricke has been murdered!" he called, and everyone rushed back in. David's eyes bulged when he saw Kurt.

"Where have you been, Kurt?" Thad asked, looking suspiciously at the backpack.

_You can pretend to be someone else that would have a backpack, it makes people more suspicious of everyone. Some people wonder if the rules have changed every time because we've had such sneaky killers. And this is why we're asking a Cheerio. Cheerleaders are liars and light on their feet_.

"Unfortunately, I had to use the restroom and missed the beginning of the festivities," Kurt said smoothly, taking on the persona of a wealthy woman from _My Fair Lady_.

"Okay, Eliza, we believe you," Charlie said with a laugh, performing another search on Kendricke for the clue.

"This game just gives you all sorts of excuses to feel people up, doesn't it, Charlie?" David asked whit a laugh.

"Yep." Charlie shrugged. "It was your idea and, no offense, there are some people I'd rather have killed than others." Everyone looked at him, but he didn't have a backpack, so they let it slide. _You can't take off your backpack, that would be too unfair, make it too difficult and we'd never finish the game. As it is they have two hours to try to catch you, and you win if by that time they either can't identify you or they don't remember all the people who have died or they can't identify the murder weapon for all of those people._

"Kurt's gotta be Peacock, which is wildly fitting," Thad said with a laugh, taking advantage of the fact Kurt had to be polite and couldn't thump him.

"A piece of rope," Charlie declared, pulling the piece off Kendricke. "Too easy."

"So if Kurt's peacock, Nick's Plum, David's either Scarlett or White, that leaves Oliver, Mason, and that freshman who thwacked Charlie with a snowball with backpacks," Blaine concluded, winking at Kurt on the 'if'.

"I bet that damn freshman's the killer!" Charlie exclaimed, revenge in his eyes.

"Slow down, crazy, slow down," Blaine quoted. "Before you go after him with a torch and a pitchfork, you have to accept the reality that it could be either Oliver or Mason."

"Never!" Charlie yelled, running off towards where the freshman were trying to interrogate Mason, who was deflecting them with shrugs and flicks of his wrist.

"I'd say Mason is Scarlett, because he's acting like he's too important for them, which leaves David as White," Blaine assessed, ignoring the fact Charlie had just run off to murder a freshman for real.

"Charlie's gone off the deep-end, hasn't he?" David asked, reappearing.

"Oh yeah, White," Blaine said, and David shrugged.

"Maybe," before loping off to talk to Mason.

"That leaves Oliver and the freshman, one of whom is Greene and one of whom is the killer. They're both off in the freshman area." Kurt appeared to ignore Blaine, heading towards David, who gave him a wink.

"His name's Clayton." Kurt nodded. Cutting through the shortcut Blaine had shown him on his very first day at Dalton, he found the freshman relaxing in the lounge. Oliver he recognized, and so he was the one he grabbed.

"Sorry, Oliver." _You can kill backpacks if it makes it easier for you, and killing Green makes it really hard for the rest of them, which is good_.

"They haven't figured out I'm Green, have they?" Oliver asked.

"Nope," Kurt said, pulling out the bag for poison. Oliver took it from him and stuck it in his mouth.

"I doubt they'll check," Oliver said as he lied down on the edge of the freshman section, unnoticed by the rest of them.

"It's your mouth," Kurt said with a shrug, knowing Charlie would. "Clayton," he said, sliding up behind the small boy, virtually unnoticed and anonymous to the freshman either way, "Wes is looking for you." Clayton jumped and ran out the door opposite the lobby, not wanting to upset Wes. _Wes will be on the fourth floor, but he always hides and watches via security cameras. If he knows you've exposed where he is, he'll lock the door on you_. Clayton was going up the 'hidden' staircase.

Kurt head back through the shortcut, stepping over a laughing Oliver, and walked up next to David and Mason, knowing someone would find Oliver eventually.

"It is the freshman!" Charlie ran in, screaming. "Oliver's dead!"

"Where is he?" Thad asked, and Charlie glared.

"How should I know!" he yelled before running off towards the freshman lounge, followed by everyone except David, Kurt, and Mason.

"You're good," David commented.

"Thank you," Kurt replied, before following the crowd.

Everyone was running around the lounge, scaring all the freshman. "Where is he?" Charlie was interrogating, shaking them and yelling. He really had lost it. Blaine was leaned over, checking Oliver, and he didn't seem inclined to check Oliver's mouth. The younger boy, eyes still closed, was having trouble not laughing. Kurt could see it on his face, and so could Blaine, by his smile.

"Everyone in the lobby," Charlie ordered, still a little bit psycho, and once everyone got there, the bell rang. Kendricke had found his way up to the observation room, Michael had probably grabbed him. Kurt grabbed Charlie once he saw Clayton at the top of the stairs.

"Nighty-night, crazy," he said, hand over Charlie mouth, putting a bullet in his pocket and then heading towards David as Charlie slumped to the ground with a glare. When the halls cleared, Clayton was at the base of the stairs, and Charlie was dead on the floor.

"He's the killer!" Thad said, grabbing Clayton, who looked bewildered.

"No, I'm not, I was upstairs, I was-"

"Liar!" Thad said. "Just be glad you killed Charlie fakely before he killed you for real."

"You're wrong," Wes said from the top of the staircase. "Clayton's not the killer. And I have noticed you've been so busy running around hunting Clayton that you don't even know what killed Michael, Kendricke, Oliver, or Charlie." As their name was called, the boys came down the staircase behind Wes. Charlie didn't stand because no one had checked his body yet. Blaine walked over to do so, immediately finding the bullet.

"Kendricke was the rope, Charlie was the revolver, I bet Oliver was the poison, because I didn't find anything and the only place I didn't check was his mouth," Blaine answered, Wes nodding at all his right answers.

"Yes, but what killed Michael, and who did it?"

"It's either Mason, Nick, David, or Kurt," Jeff said, pushing his boyfriend towards the circle as Thad pushed Kurt and David and some sophomore pushed Mason.

"I see process of elimination isn't beyond your mental capacities," Wes said dryly. He was obviously 'bad cop.'

"Michael obviously died by the candlestick, dagger, lead pipe, wrench, or trophy, and since the metal is gold, it's either the first or the last."

"I think it was David with the candlestick," Jeff called out, and Kurt could see how this could be considered a convoluted version of Live Clue.

"You have three minutes to give me better answers than that," Wes replied, and Kurt was kept in the middle with David, Nick, and Mason as the Warblers around him discussed, Wes calling out annoying reminders of the countdown like teachers did in the last five minutes of a test.

"I believe..." Blaine began, obviously speaking for the group, and hopefully not for himself or truthfully, "that it was David with the trophy. The trophy makes the most sense, and David was the one who was wandering around the most."

"And... time," Wes announced, turning to Michael.

"It was Kurt with the trophy, idiots," he said with a grin, and everyone turned to look at Kurt.

"Sly, Hummel, very sly," Charlie said, and there was only a few seconds of glaring before Thad pointed out Kurt had actually been the one wandering the most, and they should have figured it out, and Blaine revealed that he had known all along and became the subject of most of the glaring.

"I can't believe you didn't kill me," Blaine said as the factions of the group rejoined for a few minutes and the council met on the staircase.

"That probably would have made it too obvious," Kurt replied. "I don't talk to Michael or Kendricke much, and I'm not a freshman or sophomore, so I would have no motivation behind killing Oliver. The only one that vaguely pointed to me was Charlie, and I timed it so Clayton would take the blame automatically, and once the human mind has placed blame, it's hard to completely forget it."

"Sly, Hummel," Blaine repeated Charlie, giving him a hug. "Very good."

"There are a bunch of things on the list that we could do next, but since the ice fortress was so amazing-"

"Only because Klaine Hummel-Anderson didn't stick their butts in there."

"We want to give you guys options and input," Wes announced, and Kurt sincerely doubted that was his idea.

"We should dress like ninjas and draw in window paint on the cars in the Dalton parking lot!"

"No vandalism!" Wes commanded. "We could do a Dalton scavenger hunt," he read off the list.

"We could go to the animal shelter and play with all the animals!" Nick offered, and Jeff gave his not-so-secret boyfriend a gentle smile.

"Oh, no," David argued. "Last time that happened _half_ of the Warblers wanted to adopt a new mascot, and they all had different ideas as to which. No way!"

"We could make cupcakes together!" Charlie offered.

"No baking!" Thad said, "especially not you, Charlie. We could build a sheet fort," he suggested when Wes glared at him.

"We already built a ice fortress!" Oliver yelled.

"We could have a cheap contest! Who can buy the best thing at a thrift store with five bucks or get the best thing from a machine at the mall with a dollar twenty-five," his partner-in-crime Mason yelled.

"I don't trust you unsupervised," Wes commented. "We could have Wii Olympics in the entertainment room." No one objected to that one.

"We should do Paint Twister!" Charlie yelled out, and everyone cheered. "Come on, Wes, that was _so_ fun last year! And so dirty!" Not the way Charlie normally used the word dirty, Kurt hoped.

"Maybe, but if we're doing that, we're doing that last and out of uniform," David said, mediating between his boyfriend and the rest of the world. "For dinner, we were thinking we'd do a progressive meal." That got some cheers.

"I'll explain later," Blaine answered to Kurt's confused look. "We could have a marshmallow eating contest after dinner!" he offered to David.

"Who can eat the most or who can stick the most in their mouth?" Thad asked.

"The latter."

"I think Charlie would win that one!"

"_Ooh_!"

"True," Charlie said with a laugh. "We should play skeet shooter!"

"No one's giving you a BB Gun again, Charlie," David objected. "Jeff still has a mark from that."

"Skeet shooter is making paper airplanes and throwing them off the roof then people below trying to shoot them with BB Guns," Blaine explained. "And Charlie... has bad aim." He didn't elaborate, and Kurt probably didn't want to know.

Wes murmured something in David's ear, probably along the lines of 'what can Charlie do the least harm during?' David nodded, and then announced, "Scavenger Hunt's the winner!"

* * *

><p>The Warblers chilled in the lounge the freshman had been using while David, Wes, and Thad frantically searched for the scavenger hunt list that David and Wes swore they had made, but, judging by their look at each other, had gotten a little distracted (by each other) during its creation. Kurt shivered to think what might have accidentally made it on the list.<p>

"So, how do you like pseudo date?" Michael asked casually, coming to sit in the empty seat next to Kurt, as Blaine was doing his best to restrain and comfort an equally psychotic and miserable Charlie.

"It's... I don't even know what to call it," Kurt said honestly, and Michael laughed.

"It's better than another day in the hallways of hearts, isn't it?" Michael asked, and Kurt groaned.

"Don't remind me. You're all Valentine's Day crazy, aren't you?" Kurt asked, glaring at him mock-suspiciously.

"I should say 'yes' just because you killed me," Michael replied, "but no, I'm not. It's not the greatest holiday, but it's not the worst holiday and I've survived through them all, so what's the big deal?"

"I hate rational people," Kurt said, and Michael laughed.

"Actually, Valentine's Day is my birthday, so I'm practically obligated to like it," he explained.

"Happy early birthday, then."

"Thanks, Kurt."

"Found it!" David said triumphantly, but his lips looked a little kiss-bruised. Kurt was willing to bet that Thad had found it while those two were looking for it in the same place, unsupervised.

"Let's hope nothing got on there that doesn't belong," Charlie said sing-songly, smirking at David's ruffled appearance. "And I don't just mean the items." Kurt wrinkled his nose, the only one in the room that got it.

"A receipt for under twenty dollars of gas," David began to list, "a Lima Bean coffee cup with Miranda the barista's smiley face on it, a take-out menu from Panera, a promotional pen from a company not owned by anyone's parents, a newspaper clipping of a wedding announcement, a 1930s coin, a family recipe, an out-of-state driver's license,-"

"There's no way we're going to be able to find all of this," Blaine muttered. "Partners?" he asked Kurt, holding out a hand. Kurt took his hand instead of verbally answering.

"-a pizza coupon, a cocktail umbrella, the business card of the plastic surgery doctor in Westerville, brown nail polish, a yellow crayon, a cereal prize, hotel shampoo, a pack of takeout ketchup, a portable CD player, a used printer cartridge, a Cosmo magazine, a picture featuring McDonald's or their creepy clown, a two-dollar bill, Wes put a bow-tie on here but there are about a hundred thousand in Blaine's room so I'm striking it, a Kermit the Frog doll, a hula hoop, a cowboy hat, an empty bottle of Chanel, go-go boots, a gold ball, a used dryer sheet, a bendy straw, a windshield wiper, a Ouija board, toe socks, a sparkler, an inflatable duck, a squirt gun, a baby tooth, a green beret, a picture of Elvis, an Italian-English dictionary, an invitation to a school prom not from here or CCD, an AC/DC shirt, and a ticket stub from Hamlet." David finished with a smile.

"And before you ask," Thad commented, "Wes was creeping around all of your rooms during classes yesterday and as of twenty-four hours ago, everything on this list was in fact in the building. Go nuts."

That was possibly the worst thing he could of said, because that is exactly what happened next. Utter madness. Kurt knew his own room was being torn apart, having a coffee cup, a take-out menu, a wedding announcement, Rachel's brown nail polish, a Cosmo... so many things. Blaine pulled on their entwined hands, and past the maniacal screams, victorious shouts, and tussles and bundles of confused Warblers, a lot of them on the ground, they made it up to Blaine's room, which he subsequently locked.

"I probably should have warned you," Blaine said casually, sitting on his bed, "this is one of those competitions that's intended for the insane and not normal humans who don't wish to die in hilarious accident."

"No kidding," Kurt said, smoothing down his hair in the mirror from where he had gotten caught by a stray arm.

"So, Paint Twister is twister with paint splotches on tablecloths instead of simple circles, which always ends up very messily, and most of the time a little inappropriately," Blaine said with a laugh. "A progressive meal is a genius idea that Wes came up with that is guaranteed to throw confuse every waiter the Warblers see. We select four restaurants, and go to them in a certain order, ordering only drinks at the first, only appetizers at the second, the main course at the third, and dessert at the fourth. It's really fun and makes for a good meal, but the council always tips the waiters heavily because they're so lost when people want to leave after their drinks." Kurt giggled at that.

"This day has been..." Kurt trailed off, shaking his head.

"Crazy?" Blaine asked with a laugh, knowing the word was an understatement, but not having a better one.

"I would officially never date any of these idiots for fear that they think these things are actually date-appropriate. I mean, maybe the park and lunch and a lower-key scavenger hunt, but the rest..." Blaine laughed.

"I'm guessing they think this is what would happen if a bunch of guys went out on a date together," he tried to explain with a shrug. "Who's to say it isn't?"

"I suppose," Kurt admitted. "How long do they have to kill each other again?" Kurt wasn't sure David had said in the first place.

"An hour," Blaine replied with a smile. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to take a nap. I'm completely worn out by their antics and by a currently more psychotic than normal Charlie. You're welcome to join me, there should be extra sheets on the top shelf," he said, pointing to his closet.

Kurt didn't look over at Blaine until he'd rolled over, snuggled under the blankets in his clothes, and his breathing had evened out. Blaine looked so peaceful in his sleep, the happy mask he kept around the Warblers melting away to someone who was actually that sweet and that happy, but could also be hurt and broken, and had been in the past. That was the boy Kurt was wildly in love with, not the one who looked so good in a Dalton blazer.

Kurt's phone rang out a few lines of _Buenos Aires_, and Kurt answered it quickly to make sure that it didn't wake Blaine. "Hello, love."

"_I... theoretically, if I-I made someone who's been absolutely horrible to me for as long as I've known her, um, c-cry, does that make me a bad person?_" Rachel asked, not even bothering to return his greeting.

"If you're talking about the incident with you saying Santana's path in life is to be a stripper, hypothetically, then I would say that while it wasn't a particularly nice comment, she deserves it for everything she's said to the rest of the world over the years, you were within your rights to insult her," Kurt replied in one breath, practically whispering into the phone.

"_Why are you whispering?_" Rachel asked, whispering in return by a logic that only made sense in the scary world that was Racheltopia.

"Blaine's asleep," he explained off-handedly.

"_Kurt Hummel!_" Rachel said with a gasp.

"Don't be a drama queen, Rach, he's just taking a nap and I'm just avoiding the rest of the madness that is a Dalton scavenger hunt. Long story; don't ask," Kurt said as he heard Rachel drawing in breath.

"_All right, then._" Kurt wasn't entirely sure Rachel had bought his story, but he let it slide. "_Have you heard the latest scandal to rock McKinley?_"

"A Cheerio is sleeping with Puck, your relationship with Finn has fluctuated again, Santana has her claws in someone besides Puck," Kurt said drolly, listing off a few of the common ones.

"_Puck's trying to woo, get this, _Lauren Zizes_,_" Rachel said with her usual dramatic flair. "_While I have no issue with her for her rather abrasive attitude, I find it very hard to believe that Puck is not only interested in her, she's not exactly his usual type, but is _courting _her in the way he's courted only me, recognizing a respectable girl who's more than willing to wait until she is-_"

"Rachel, darling, I'm going to cut you off here because it sounds like you're running out of air, and I know that if I let you continue, you'll never stop," Kurt said gently.

"_Regardless, Valentine's Day is taking over the world,_" Rachel said casually. "_I can't go anywhere in the hallways, not even in the choir room, without being reminded about the stupid holiday._"

"Glad to see you're as single and bitter as I am," Kurt commented. "Though, I may have news. About Blaine."

"_Is this the kind of news which would lead you to be sleeping next to him?_" Rachel asked carefully.

"Rachel! Blaine is taking a nap in his own bed _alone_. I am on the other bed in his dorm!" Kurt sighed. "And no, this is the romance type thing I think you might like."

"_Tell me more, tell me more!_" Rachel squeaked eagerly.

"I think he's going to ask me out and serenade me on Valentine's Day!" Kurt whispered, and Rachel squealed. "We went out for coffee the other day, and he was talking about someone he hasn't known for a while, but he's developing deeper feelings for him, but I can't accurately describe it. It's just... the way he was _looking_ at me, his eyes were practically smoldering me, and he's tried twice today to bring up Valentine's Day, and we keep getting interrupted but he was it was great that I didn't have plans, and we were talking about the serenade and he was blushing and acting shy and..." Kurt sighed. "I'm so crazy about him."

"_You're certain it's you, the guy he was talking about?_" Rachel asked, romanticizing her entire life but doubting his one hopeful speck.

"Rachel, we're practically dating already," Kurt pointed out. "This Valentine's Day is going to be amazing."

"_You're right. I'm not going to let Finn turn me down,_" Rachel decided, already ignoring him. "_This kissing booth is the perfect opportunity for me. He'll feel the spark and realize that he still loves me and that I'm sorry for what I did and I never wanted to hurt him and-_"

"Rachel, weren't we talking about me?" Kurt deflected, because he could never be on Rachel's side on this one. Yes, he sympathized with her pain, but she had _cheated_ on his _brother_, and Kurt personally didn't think Finn should forgive her, but what did he know?

"_R-Right, sorry._" Rachel seemed to shake herself out of her trance. "_If you're practically already dating, why don't you just ask him out now, and save yourself the painful wait until Valentine's Day?_" she asked, and she had a point.

"Because he obviously already has something planned," Kurt explained, "and he's going to _serenade_ me, and it's going to be so romantic, and I don't want to ruin that." Kurt's eyes flicked to Blaine, horrified by the momentary idea that he might be hearing their conversation, but relaxed when he realized Blaine's breathing was deep and slow, a non-obtrusive snore sneaking in every third or fourth breath. God, he was so cute.

"_J-just remember that um, love doesn't always work out... you know, the way it does in o-our favorite romantic comedies... okay?_" Rachel asked softly, and Kurt smiled. She really did mean well.

"Okay," he agreed. "Now tell me more about your plans for Finn." Rachel did so eagerly, and Kurt half-listened to her and half watched Blaine sleep, trying to ignore how creepy he felt and keeping an eye on the clock.

* * *

><p>"Wake up, sleepy head." Blaine heard a soft voice rousing him from blissful unconsciousness.<p>

"Wha?" he murmured sleepily, snuggling further into his bed and not wanting to open his eyes.

"Blaine, get up!" the voice said more firmly, and Blaine sat up in bed without opening his eyes. "The scavenger hunt is over, Jeff and Nick won, and we're heading out for dinner in a few minutes." Blaine opened his eyes and blinked the sleepiness away once he saw Kurt's bleary figure.

"Oh, yeah, right," he said, yawning and making his words incomprehensible. "Ugh, I think I need another nap," he said with a grin once he was a little more lucid, climbing out of bed and stretching.

"They're downstairs deciding what restaurants we're going to," Kurt explained when Blaine looked at the clock. "I let you sleep a little more; you looked like you needed it."

"Thanks," Blaine said with a smile at his best friend. "Ready to go downstairs?" he asked, yawning again.

"Um," Kurt looked up and giggled, "you might want to fix your hair a little first." Blaine headed for the bathroom and groaned when he saw the worst case of bed head he had ever had, making Kurt giggle more. Of course, it had to be when he was in a hurry... and in front of Kurt. Whom he was not into anymore. Nope. Not at all. "Hurry up, butthead."

"Yes, sir," he complained grumpily, smoothing down his hair and adding just a little bit more gel before walking out of the bathroom.

"And you see that," Kurt said, pointing to his head, "is exactly why Charlie called you Helmethead during the snowball fight. You didn't need any additional gel to fix your hair."

"Well, maybe I'll let you do my hair sometime and you can see how horrible it actually is to deal with."

"Deal," Kurt said firmly, reaching out a hand to shake. Blaine rolled his eyes and shook it, almost tripping when Kurt didn't let go and instead pulled him downstairs. "I don't Wes to yell at us or Charlie to make innuendos."

"We've been in my dorm room alone for an hour," Blaine pointed out, "no matter how prompt we are in returning I'm sure he's going to have something to say. This craziness is guaranteed to have put him in a better mood."

"True."

* * *

><p>By the time Kurt and Blaine got downstairs, the restaurants had already been decided and Charlie had an entire list of innuendos he had been brainstorming which Blaine promptly snatched away from him and tore up.<p>

"For those of us who were too busy screwing to be a part of our decision," Charlie said, pouting at Blaine, "we're going to Las Margaritas for drinks-"

"No trying to escape carding, guys," Wes said firmly. "I'm telling the waiter first thing that we're all underage."

"Westerville Grill for appetizers, Carsonie's for the meal, and Schneider's Bakery for dessert, because all the food there is better than sex. And I would know."

"Charlie, do any of your sentences lack sexual references?" Kurt asked with a roll of his eyes.

"'Sexual references'?" Charlie repeated with a laugh. "Oh, sweetie, you're such a virgin."

"Okay!" Thad said hurriedly. "Let's get going before one of these idiots rips the other's face off."

"Or clothes off," Charlie muttered with a wink at Kurt, who knew he was blushing but ignored him.

"Isn't it a little early for dinner?" Kurt asked, the clock on the wall telling him it was only half past three.

"Silly, silly new kid," Charlie said with a sigh. "We're not going to dinner right now. Hollywood Studio Theatre is showing _The Shining_, and we figured we would scare the shit out of ourselves and then go somewhere brightly lighted."

"Oh boy," Blaine muttered. "You've been here for long enough to know what these guys are like, but not even you can imagine them during a horror movie." Blaine shuddered.

"And Blaine, you're driving Charlie's car; we want everyone to make it there in one piece," David announced, Charlie rolling his eyes.

* * *

><p>Blaine was right. Kurt hadn't the faintest idea what to expect from the Warblers during a horror movie. His first thought was loud, obnoxious, completely obsessed with gore, and making innuendos about everything. He didn't expect them to be such <em>wimps<em>.

Kurt has personally never found _The Shining_ very scary. Even the most famous scene failed to scare him. Yet, when Jack Nicholson stuck his head through the door, grinned, and said "Here's Johnny," Kurt was pretty sure several Warblers peed their pants out of fear. Wes had his face buried in his hands, which meant David was ignoring the movie to pick on his secret boyfriend. Jeff and Nick had disappeared a long time ago, whether it was out of fear or because they had moved to a more private row, Kurt wasn't sure.

There was, of course, a competition for worst wimp, and it was definitely between Blaine and Charlie. Kurt knew Blaine had freaked out at some parts of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I_, but everything about Blaine was more dramatic when he was talking about Harry Potter. His voice, his face, his hand gestures, even his dancing. Gaga, he was cute.

Still, Kurt hadn't thought Blaine was going to be a complete wimp, but he was hiding in the countertenor's shoulder for the vast majority of the movie, not that Kurt minded. What he minded a little more was the fact that Charlie was doing the exact same thing on the other side. It was kind of ruining the mood.

Charlie, Kurt had expected to be a wimp. Anyone with that much bravado in daily life was secretly a horror movie wimp. Quinn was, Santana was, and Charlie was. However, he didn't expect Charlie to come to _him_ for comfort. Not that he minded, but he was kind of trying to snuggle with the boy who was going to ask him out on Valentine's Day (Rachel was never right about romance), and Charlie was kind of detrimental to that plan.

* * *

><p>"Wow, this restaurant is..." Kurt began, looking around at the orange walls, dark wood, and Latin American decorations. The restaurant was full of people chatting loudly and eating food that looked <em>delicious<em> to someone with a stomach that sounded like a pack of wolves. The one bad thing about progressive meals, Kurt supposed.

"Colorful," Blaine supplied, looking around with a smile at the bright oranges, pinks, blues, and yellows.

"This is what Charlie would look like if he was a building, isn't it?" Kurt asked, looking around in horror and making Blaine laugh.

"Is it as bad as Valentine's Day Dalton?"

"_Nothing_ could be as bad as Valentine's Day Dalton!" Kurt said with a shudder as Wes counted them and spoke to the host. "Having Live Clue in there made it even more ridiculous.

"An extreme juxtaposition," Blaine agreed in a completely serious voice as they sat down at the table the host lead them too.

"Did you seriously just use juxtaposition in everyday conversation?"

Before Blaine could answer, Charlie interrupted by slumping into the chair on the opposite side of Blaine, putting his head on the tenor's shoulder, and sighing, snuggling into Blaine's side wordlessly.

"Okay," was all Blaine said, wrapping an arm around Charlie. "Sad monkey?"

"Shut up," Charlie muttered, but there was no edge to his voice.

Blaine opened his mouth to ask what had happened but was cut off by the waiter inquiring about their drinks and optimistically offering appetizers. Now Kurt could see why the Warblers found this entertaining. He couldn't help but giggle as everyone exchanged glances and tried not to laugh. Once a confused and slightly embarrassed waiter had left, Charlie sighed again.

"I talked to Lucas," Charlie murmured into Blaine's shoulder. "And I don't want to talk about it." Blaine rubbed his arm and kissed his head.

"Ten bucks says Charlie can get into that guy's pa..." Jeff began, grinning after the waiter before looking at Charlie, trailing off mid-word as his face fell. "Um, sorry," he mumbled, turning away from the obviously upset boy. Kurt couldn't tell if he was crying.

"What's-" Wes began before Blaine shook his head. "Okay. Anyone want to play Spot?"

As everyone nodded, Kurt turned to the side opposite Blaine, feeling a bit awkward asking someone he barely knew to enlighten him on all the Warblers' traditions and games he was ignorant of. "Spot?" he asked the poor unfortunate freshman who had been the subject of Charlie's earlier wrath.

"It's an advanced form of people-watching. Wes calls out an item, the first person to spot that item on a person in the restaurant gets a point, and well, we all know how competitive the Warblers are," Clayton replied, in a tone that made Kurt think he would have made an excellent teacher, smooth and indicative of the fact that he was speaking only for the intention of educating Kurt. It was odd to hear someone talk about the Warblers without hearing a pinch of satire towards their insanity. Naive freshmen.

"Rolex," Wes called out, and since his normal distraction was busy comforting Charlie, Kurt decided to play. He probably saw fifteen Rolex watches at first glance.

"Wes, this is Westerville," David pointed out. "Everyone's wearing a Rolex. _You're_ wearing a Rolex." David held up his boyfriend's hand as proof. Sure enough, Wes had a shiny gold Rolex peering out of his sleeve.

"I vote we play dirty Spot," Jeff said, apparently taking over the empty pervert role usually filled by Charlie.

"Jeff, we are not having Char- anyone running around checking people's shoes for condoms again," Wes said firmly, and everyone at the table cracked up. Charlie sniffled.

"Fine," Jeff said with a pout. "Pierced ear on a guy."

"As the Warblers looked around, a different waiter placed their drinks in front of them with incredible accuracy and peered curiously around the table before leaving. Obviously their first waiter had been spreading rumors that they were weird. Kurt didn't blame him.

The guy in a black leather jacket and jeans who seemed to have had a few margaritas and was looking very happy with himself was Kurt's first candidate, but his ears were whole and at a second glance Kurt realized he had a briefcase at his feet. A business man then. No piercings.

"Corner," Nick whispered, pointing to the back corner of the restaurant where a young couple straight out of a poorly-written romance novel was sitting. The girl, blonde, was wearing Dolce & Gabbana neon blue jeans and a colorful 7 for All Mankind silk top, and the guy had black, spiky hair, a head full of piercings, and black clothes. They were holding hands.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you two!" Jeff yelled out and they separated with a squeak and blush on her part.

"Jeff," Nick chastised gently.

"What?" Jeff asked innocently. "They're hiding together in the corner. They might as well be in the closet." Total silence fell as Jeff realized what he had just said. Nick face-palmed, and Wes and David exchanged an almost guilty glance.

"They have no reason to be except social expectations," Nick tried to cover.

"Neither do you," Charlie murmured into Blaine's shoulder, loud enough to be heard. In the following continuation of the previous awkward silence, Wes called out a new item.

"Headband."

As the Warblers searched for a girl with a headband (Wes had explicitly disqualified bandanas once the Warblers spotted the hippy at the table next to them, who had probably heard their comments and was now laughing, probably having had a few more margaritas than the businessman at the bar), the waiter who had brought them their drinks was standing at the end of the table, pad in hand and eyeing them suspiciously. Kurt almost felt bad for him.

"Check, please," David said casually, as if it were the most normal request in the world.

"Pardon?" the waiter asked, clearly shocked and confused.

"Check," Wes repeated in the rude tone of voice people used to talk down to waiters and nurses. David gave him a reproachful look.

"I... okay, what the heck?" the waiter asked, and the Warblers lost all vestiges of control over their laughter. "You guys are weird," the waiter announced as he walked away.

"Either he's getting out check or calling the police," Jeff commented.

"God, I love progressive meals," Nick added, smiling at his boyfriend. Jeff kissed the bruise on his forehead.

"I can't wait to go to Westerville Grill," Thad said, and Kurt was probably the only person at the table who didn't understand why he was grinning. As usual.

"Oh my God, Aaron!"

"Aaron, Aaron!" Even the freshman and sophomores were cheering, and Kurt was at a complete loss.

"Don't worry, Kurt," David said with a grin. "You'll meet him."

* * *

><p>The Westerville Grill was very homey, like Longhorn Steakhouse that was all wood and maroon, with less creepy rural decorations like deer heads and more classy pictures. The host gave them a big smile and brought them over to table already made up.<p>

"We come here a lot," David explained, falling into step next to Kurt instead of his secret boyfriend, who was walking with a rather frightened-looking Thad.

"I see that," was all Kurt said in reply, not commenting on the tension between Wes and David. He could practically feel it in the air.

"Oh shit," was the Warblers comment when he approached the table, almost immediately after they sat down. "Shit, shit, shit."

"We missed you too, Aaron," Blaine commented, finally free from a weepy Charlie.

"Well, you, Blaine, I missed," the waiter, Aaron, said with a wink, prompting whistles.

"Very cute."

"Well, Blainers has a new beau now Aaron, so back off," Jeff said, smirking.

"Well, it's not you, Blaine has better taste and higher standards than that, so it must be the new guy over here," Aaron said, smiling at Kurt.

"Oh, how we wish," Charlie commented.

"How'd you know I'm interested in someone?" Blaine asked Jeff, ignoring Aaron and Charlie's comments and not looking at Kurt.

"I hear things." Jeff smirked. "Or see things." Blaine colored, glaring. What was Jeff talking about?

"So it's not new guy?" Aaron asked, and how Kurt wished Blaine would answer that question, but he knew the tenor well enough to know that he wouldn't.

"Oh, not, it definitely is," Charlie said, grinning, obviously having recovered from his random attack of depression.

"Charlie, worry about your own love life," Blaine repeated Kurt's earlier words, obviously picking up on how efficient they were to get Charlie off his back.

"Charlie, you have a love life now?" Aaron asked, sounding surprised and a little horrified.

"Would you shut up and take our order now?" Charlie snapped.

"I'm gonna take that as a 'no'. What stage are you guys on?"

"This is no fun with a waiter who knows what's going on and doesn't get upset," Thad commented, and Kurt agreed unequivocally. It may have partially due to the fact that the waiter had been flirting with the boy who was hopefully soon to become his boyfriend. Kurt tried not to smile at the thought.

"Just tell me what you want and stop bemoaning the fact that I'm not flustered or creeped out because I already know your game," Aaron said, rolling his eyes and then staring at Wes expectantly, pad and pen in hand.

The Warblers ended up ordering a massive amount of buffalo wings, chicken fingers, and French fries for their appetizers. By the time they finished eating, most of the table and a lot of the previously white shirts present were covered in a mix of barbeque sauce and ketchup that looked disturbingly like blood.

"Pigs," Wes commented to Thad, who wisely didn't say anything in reply. David had taken the seat on the opposite side of Kurt from Blaine, and Wes and Thad were on the opposite side of the table. How had they gotten enough alone time to have a fight? During the movie?

"Don't be such a party pooper, Wes," David said as usual, but his tone was cold.

"Oh, would you two stop fighting and just go screw in the bathroom or something, I'm tired of hearing it," Charlie said, rolling his eyes.

"Like we all love hearing about how you tried to get into Lucas' pants and are pissed that he turned you down," Wes said in reply.

Charlie's face went red, and he stood up, pushing away from the table so hard his chair fell over. "You don't know anything, Wes," he said, low and dangerous.

"I know nobody's ever going to think of you as more than an object because that's all you treat yourself as." Really, Kurt wasn't all that surprised that Charlie slapped Wes. He would have.

"Guys, calm down," Thad said, standing up as Charlie stalked off. "I think we all just have a little bit of cabin fever."

"We've been around each other for less than twenty four hours!" Mason objected. "And would you stop acting so self-righteous! You're just as annoyed with Wes' comments as everyone else, you're just so sanctimonious you can pretend you're better than everyone else."

"We've been with each other for a lot longer than twenty four hours," Kendricke said calmly, not standing up but commanding attention with his firm voice. Kurt had never seen him take a leadership role, but he was surprisingly good at it. "We have to live with each other, and survive relationships with each other, some more serious than others." They all knew who he was talking about. "That's what makes us such an awesome team, we know each other so well, but that also means when we get cranky," Kendricke glared at Wes and David, "we can't go attacking each other where we know it'll hurt the most. So maybe we should all just cool it for a bit, and talk about Regionals. It's a long time away, but it's probably the only topic we can talk about right now and all be reasonable."

"Floored," Blaine muttered, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," he said at everyone's strange looks, but then Blaine was laughing, and soon everyone was laughing.

"God, we really are all crazy, aren't we?" Kendricke asked, wiping away a few tears.

"I'm gonna go grab Charlie," Blaine said as Aaron came over with their check and a smirk, disappointing a table of hopeful Warblers looking for an embarrassed waiter.

* * *

><p>"Do you realize absolutely everything in this restaurant is fattening?" Kurt asked Blaine as he looked over the menu at Carsonie's.<p>

"Pasta's not that bad for you, is it?" The only thing that could possibly convey how stupid that question was, was one of Kurt's famous glares. "Okay, apparently false. Would you relax about calories for a bit? It's not like you need to worry." Blaine gestured to him casually, perusing his own menu. How could he say things like that and _not_ be coming on to Kurt?

"Fine," Kurt said with a sigh. "I'm definitely not getting pizza."

"Hey, Charlie, wanna split a Hawaiian?" Blaine had horrible taste in pizza, Kurt noted as they both turned to look at Charlie, who was glaring at Wes.

"I hate Hawaiian pizza," he replied, "but not as much as I hate Wes right now."

"Charlie, he didn't mean it, he was just angry and being snappy to anyone that was trying to be a voice of... I guess the best word for it is 'reason' but I feel like telling two straight guys to go screw in a bathroom doesn't really count as such." Blaine pouted. "Whatever. The point is, don't hold a grudge."

"Why? 'Cause that's unattractive? Good! Maybe I don't wanna be attractive. Because _apparently_ guys think of me like a piece of meat when it's entirely the other way around," Charlie argued, not even turning to look at Blaine as he talked.

"Charlie, look at me." Charlie's eyes didn't even flicker. "Charlie!" Kurt had never heard Blaine snap like that before, and judging by Charlie's expression, neither had he. "I know you and your facial expressions well enough to know that whatever happened between you and He Who Must Not Be Named has nothing to do with that. So just stop." Charlie sighed, grumbling.

"I still hate Hawaiian pizza. Bacon and Italian sausage?"

"Fine by me."

"Pigs," Kurt said in disgust, making both of the smile.

"We know," they said simultaneously.

"Unfortunately," Wes said, standing up, "Schneider's is closing early this evening because they're worried about vandals from something big that's happening in Columbus. So, we'll be going quickly to Rita's Water Ice and then returning to Dalton for Paint Twister." Wes sat back down without any other comment, from anyone.

"Wow, I think Kendricke really scared everyone into submission," Charlie said, looking around at the abnormally silent Warblers.

"I wonder how they're getting Paint Twister set up before we get there," Blaine said, tapping his fingers as they waited for the waiter to show up.

"Water ice is just like snow cones, right?" Michael asked from a few seats down, and Blaine nodded in the affirmative.

"Oh, no," Charlie breathed, but he didn't elaborate.

"What-" Blaine began to ask.

"Hi, guys," the server who approached their table was _female_, and young and cute, and of course, someone wolf-whistled as soon as she came near. "My name's Mandy," which was appropriate, because the first person she reminded Kurt of was Mandy Takhar, "and I'll be your waitress for today. What can I get you for drinks?" The poor girl, she was going to be so confused.

"Well, you can just get me a glass, 'cause I just found a tall drink of water," Thad said with a grin, making the waitress blush. Boys; guaranteed to turn into morons around girls in 2.5 seconds.

"Aren't you sweet," Mandy said with a smile.

"We don't want any drinks, Mandy, we would just like to order." To her credit, Many didn't even blink.

"All right then, what would you guys like?" The girl was really just walking into it.

"Could you be my love buffet? So I can just spread you out on the table and take what I want?" one of the freshman commented, and another slapped him a high five. Pigs.

"Guys, seriously," Mandy said, still smiling.

"Do you have any raisins?" David asked, and Wes looked _pained_.

"Um, no, not that I know of, I can go check the kitchen..." Mandy looked even more confused. Poor girl.

"No. How about a date then?" she giggled.

"Are you a Frito? 'Cause you're really corny," she said in reply, earning a bunch of '_ooh_'s from the Warblers and a glare from Wes.

"Let's do breakfast tomorrow," Michael added. "Should I call you or nudge you?"

"Would you all please stop harassing the waitress?" Wes asked sharply, looking only at David.

"They weren't bothering me, sir," Mandy said rather meekly, but Wes was more assertive than her, so eventually the Warblers ordered a bunch of pizza (not surprisingly, Kurt was the only one who chose the mildly-healthier choice).

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Wes said, glaring around the table. He had gone from staring at David to avoiding his gaze.

Awkward silence pretty much filled the rest of the meal, as Mandy came and went, Wes glaring at anyone, except David, who watched her walk away. The Warblers quietly chatted in small groups, but there was no loud discussion and no crazy bonding.

"Has this happened on other pseudo-dates?" Kurt asked Blaine quietly, and wasn't entirely surprised when he shook his head.

"No, but things have never been this complex between everyone. Sometimes there are just rough patches in any group. It's just difficult when there are multiple, major patches, but everything will turn out fine. By tomorrow, people will be pretending this never happened." Blaine shrugged. "It happens. And between the van Heusner brothers, Jeff and Nick's not-so-secret relationship, whatever is happening between Wes and David, and Charlie's issues with L-"

"Ahem!" Charlie said loudly, even though he hadn't been a part of their conversation a few seconds ago.

"He Who Must Not Be Named," Blaine corrected himself, and then continued, "things are a bit tense, but things always work out, right? Otherwise the choir room at McKinley would be roped off for a homicide investigation." Kurt giggled at that, thinking of the number of times Santana had almost killed Rachel, and how many times he had felt like helping the Cheerio and burying the body.

"True."

"Besides, whenever there are liquids that stain in their general vicinity, Warblers' bonding events can get a little bit crazy," Blaine said with a bit of a maniacal grin.

"You're _really_ creeping me out right now."

* * *

><p>For a place called Rita's Water Ice, obviously named by a simpleton, their Italian ice was surprisingly good, and various splotches of color had been added to the abstract tapestries that were once proper white button downs by the time the Warblers returned to Dalton. Some rolled up table cloths were sitting by the door when they got to the dorm, which Wes had seemingly inspected.<p>

"Since if we dirty our dorm, we have to clean it, Paint Twister will take place in the gym. Grab those," he said, gesturing to a few Warblers, "and we'll head out. The paint should be in the storage area. David will grab that."

"Grab it yourself," David said with a roll of his eyes, heading towards the gym. Wes sighed, but didn't argue.

"I don't think I've ever see Wes hold his tongue," Charlie commented as they all trudged towards the gym. "It's way too fuckin' cold to be walking around. Why didn't we just drive to the gym?"

"Why do you complain like a little girl all the sudden?" Blaine asked.

"It's not that cold," Kurt agreed, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fact he was shivering.

"Not that cold?" Blaine mocked, wrapping an arm around Kurt and pulling him close. Gaga, he was warm.

"Shut up," Kurt muttered.

Charlie was rolling his eyes. "Would you two get off each other for five minutes?" he asked, but he was smiling a little.

"Are you cold too?" Blaine asked teasingly, holding out his other arm, but Charlie huffed and strutted off. "He's so ridiculous sometimes," Blaine said fondly.

"Sometimes?" Kurt asked.

By the time the Warblers reached the gym (which was about half-way across campus. Great planning, Wes), most everyone was shivering, and Charlie was loudly advocating for picking the lock, since they had soon figured out Wes had the key, and he was still at the storage unit.

After about five minutes, David gave in and Charlie had the door open in about four seconds. "I promised I learned this criminal talent for a good reason," Charlie said, winking as he pocketed his lock picks.

"Right," David said, and he, like everyone else, was too cold to care. As they walked into the thankfully-heated gym, Blaine unwrapped his arm from around Kurt, as casually as possible. "All right, spread out the tablecloths."

Wes walked in the door a little after the five tablecloths had been spread out with the paint. "How did you get the door open?" he asked Thad, very specifically not looking at or addressing David. They were so wonderfully mature.

"Don't ask," Thad replied, Charlie winking at Wes.

"All right. You all know what a Twister mat looks like, right?" Wes asked the Warblers, who all nodded.

"We've done this before Wes," David said condescendingly. Wes ignored him and split up the Warblers into fourths and sent them over to their paint cans. Kurt could already see that this was a bad idea.

"This isn't going to end well, is it?" Blaine asked as he and Kurt were sent together to the yellow paint. Kurt could see all kinds of bad match-ups: the van Heusner brothers, Wes and David, Charlie and... anyone.

"Nope," Kurt replied, grabbing a screwdriver to open a can of yellow paint. "It's a good thing everyone's already a mess."

It went well for about two minutes, until Mason managed to open a green can and 'accidentally' swiped down Thad's back with the paint. "Sorry," he said tauntingly to his brother, who took it up a notch by pouring the rest of the can over his head.

"Sorry," Thad repeated.

"Guys, behave!" Wes commanded.

"Oh shut up," David said, flicking red paint at Wes, where it splat on his arm.

"What, you can't be mature either?" Wes asked, turning around, and got a stripe across his waist for that.

"Nope, probably not," David said, just in time to gasp when Wes painted right across his face.

"Let there be war!" Wes said, grabbing some paint in his hand and dumping it on David's head. That, of course, broke the damn on everyone else. Mason went after his brother with a blue can he had stolen as Charlie scooped some out of Kurt's yellow can and ran after Clayton, who was probably beginning to regret throwing that snowball.

"They're so crazy," Kurt said, watching Charlie chase Clayton around the gym, turning to face Blaine as Blaine swiped down his neck.

"Oops!" Blaine said with a smile, making Kurt flick some spare paint at him.

"Not funny," he said, grabbing some and tossing it at his crush, who gaped when it splatted across his blazer.

"Oh, you'll pay for that, Hummel," Blaine announced, backing up just enough to grab some green paint and flick it at his hair, at which point Kurt tossed a can at him, coating the entire upper half of his body.

Kurt registered that someone had put on music just before Blaine tried to get a handful of blue down his back, and was stopped by Charlie tossing some red at his back.

"Charlie!" he protested.

"That was for the Lucas jokes!" Charlie announced, not even getting a little annoyed when Blaine threw the blue he had intended for Kurt at his hair. "Come on, Blaine, blue in pink hair only looks cooler."

"I thought you weren't saying his name," Blaine said, so distracted by Charlie that Kurt managed to add some yellow to the red on his back before getting hit in the face by a toss from Michael.

"That's for killing me, bea-tch!" Michael announced, before Kendricke hit him with some green. Jeff and Nick both tossed some at Kendricke, who went after them both, almost slipping on a splatter of paint. Kurt looked down and gasped at the damage done to the gym floor.

"Janitor's problem," Blaine announced, grabbing Kurt around the waist and giving him a paint noogie. "And you deserved that," he said as Kurt squawked, letting go of him quickly and getting a splash from Nick.

"That's because you stole my solo!" Nick said, and Jeff added to the paint already on Blaine's chest before dumping some on his boyfriend's head and taking off.

"That's for being so bossy!" Thad yelled loudly as he tossed some over Wes and David, who had been fighting since the beginning. Wes threw some back.

"That's for what you said to Mandy!" Wes said, tossing some at David too.

"That's for being such a jerk about us being nice to a waitress!" David said, retaliating.

"You were hitting on her!" Wes argued, rubbing some paint into David's tie.

"No I wasn't," David said, and he sounded kind of surprised at the accusation.

"You weren't?" Wes asked, and he sounded surprised too. Kurt thought for a moment they were about to out themselves, until Charlie ruined the moment by throwing some blue at Wes' ear.

"That's for calling me a slut!"

Nick tossed some at Charlie. "That's for being one!" he joked, making Charlie laugh and throw some back.

Kurt had gotten so distracted by all the fights going on around him (Jeff and Nick were having one that was becoming increasingly inappropriate, and Wes had slid over to break them up) that he didn't even notice Blaine was trying to sneak up on him. Unfortunately, his plot was foiled by the slippery ground, and Blaine fell onto him, knocking him over and landing on top of him.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't get off either. "Actually, no. Not sorry, this is even better than my plan."

"Get _off_ me."

"Nope," Blaine said, sliding a paint-covered hand down his face. "That was for driving me absolutely up the wall." Kurt breath caught as Blaine leaned down a little, but Blaine just kissed him on a paint-covered cheek, giving Kurt a chance to grab some paint and spread it across his back before pushing him off.

Wes was standing above them, blue paint coating his hair. "Do I have to break you to up too?" he asked, but Kurt ignored him in favor of warning him David was trying to sneak up on him.

Jeff tossed some at Charlie. "That's for trying to out me!"

"That's for being in the closet," Charlie yelled as he retaliated and then returned to his task of chasing and coating Clayton in paint.

"All right, all right, break it up!" Wes and David yelled, obviously having solved whatever was bothering them.

"That's enough!" Wes went on to say. "The gym is completely coated, we're going to get in _so_ much trouble for this tomorrow, and the tablecloths are already too messy for us to do anything with them. It's late, we're all tired, let's head back and watch crappy movies!" That got some cheers.

"You know what," Blaine said, wrapping a paint-coated arm around Kurt as they stepped out of the gym, "I think that's the best thing that could have happened to the Warblers tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow. This turned out **_**so**_** much longer than I had planned. It's also so much later, and I really apologize, **_**however**_**, for a portion of the period of time it has taken to write this, my computer was in the shop because the keyboard was broken (which is kind of an issue when you're an FF writer and a computer programmer), and this is always a really busy time of year for me. So, I'm sorry. However, this chapter **_**is**_** over 18 thousand words with only one full song, so forgive me?**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Bed Rock_' by Lil Wayne ft Young Lloyd, Gudda Gudda, Nicki Minaj, Drake, Tyga, & Jae Millz  
>'<em>I'm a Believer<em>' by the Monkees/Smash Mouth  
>'<em>Candlelight<em>' by Relient K  
>'<em>Buenos Aires<em>' from _Evita_ (mentioned)

**Review are Love. And awesome holiday gifts. Happy Holidays!**


	21. Charcas

**A/N: Chrissy = Christine Teigen. This chapter is pretty much the countdown to Valentine's Day. I'm trying not to drag it out, and also trying not to skip through the rest of the month either (one Glee episode between Christmas and Valentine's Day? Real realistic RIB).**

* * *

><p>"You do realize that it's absolutely ridiculous that you're primping, right?" Blaine asked as Kurt smoothed down his shirt and glared at his best friend in the mirror. "Unless you're a much better liar than I give you credit for being, you don't even like this guy!"<p>

"Trying to look nice on the days that I'm allowed to be out of uniform is not indicative of my feelings towards Griffin," Kurt said firmly as he fixed his hair a little.

"Have you even _thought_ about giving him a chance?" Blaine asked earnestly. Kurt whipped around the face the tenor, feeling a reflected-glare was not enough for the situation.

"Very funny."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"He's not a bad guy."

"I'm not interested."

"Fine."

"Fine."

It wasn't an argument, and it had nothing to do with Valentine's Day, Kurt told himself as he headed for the Empty Room, fully armed with as many layers as he could put on without looking ridiculous. Blaine was just being a nice friend, Kurt tried to convince himself, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Not only was it the first weekend he was spending boarding at Dalton, but the madness of the bonding event yesterday, which he still hadn't fully recovered from, made him realize he had no idea about the deeper dynamics of the club. Plus, what Jeff had said to that waiter about Blaine's 'new beau' made him suspicious. What if it was another one of the Warblers, one whom Kurt had no idea Blaine was friends with? It wasn't entirely implausible.

Kurt shoved his musings aside as he reached the room at Dalton that was a fully functional classroom but had never been used as one. Reminding himself not to act like 'a mouse with a blood-vessel problem', Kurt pushed open the door to Room 142, to find Griffin sitting on the desk intended for a teacher in jeans and a hockey jersey.

"Hey," Griffin said coolly, giving him an approving up-and-down. "I wasn't sure you would come."

"Neither was I," Kurt said before he thought about it, and then he was blushing. "I mean..."

"You're not into me, are you?" Griffin asked, and Kurt's eyebrows almost shot off his forehead. "You like that Anderson guy, the Warbler rock star."

"I, uh..." Kurt said, very articulate in the face of a cute guy as usual. "Yes," he said with a sigh, and Griffin just chuckled. "If you already knew that, why did you ask me to meet you here? And his name is Blaine."

"Figured it would make _Blaine _pretty jealous," Griffin said with a laugh, "and I'm a nice guy like that."

"And the embarrassing asking a freshman to ask me?" Kurt demanded, and then Griffin was the one who was a little red.

"I... there was always a little chance, you know? But when you walked in here you were thinking about him, and it was written all over your face how much you like him," Griffin said with a shrug. "There are other cute guys. I'll survive."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said reflexively, but Griffin just shrugged again.

"It's all right. I wasn't even planning to ask you out until Blaine called me over. Why did he do that anyway?"

"Because he's an idiot," Kurt said with a laugh, but he knew he was blushing again. "It's kind of a long story," he hedged.

"And clearly one you don't wanna tell me," Griffin said.

"Why can you read me like a book?" Kurt demanded, reddening again.

"Because everything you're thinking shows up in those gorgeous eyes of yours." It was like Griffin was _trying_ to make him blush. "What, you don't hear that all the time?"

"Not as often as you'd think," Kurt said, trying to shrug to be casual.

"Than every guy you've met is a bonehead." Griffin was much better at the casual game. "You wanna stay in here a little longer and walk out a little ruffled, or did you tell Anderson you were planning on rejecting me?"

"The latter," Kurt replied, flushing at the idea of the former.

"All right. Take care, Hummel. And if you ever want free hockey tickets, let me know. We still have a little more to our season." Kurt had ears, so he knew that Dalton was in the playoffs for hockey.

"I might have to pass on that. I'm not much of a sports guy," Kurt admitted.

"I could have guessed that one," Griffin said, grinning at him. "Well then, take care of yourself, Kurt Hummel, and if you ever want to make that lucky idiot Anderson jealous, let me know."

"Will do," Kurt said, deciding not to tell Griffin that he would never, _ever_ make out with a guy to make another jealous. "Take care of yourself, Griffin," he said, turning to walk away and blushing even redder at the wolf-whistle Griffin let out.

If Griffin, who didn't know Kurt at all, could tell that Kurt liked his best friend with one glance, did Blaine know? Did _everyone_ know? It was kind of sad that his thought immediately snapped back to his mini-fight with Blaine as he walked down the hallway, putting any thoughts about Griffin completely out of his head.

"Well, that didn't take long at all," Blaine commented, still in Kurt's dorm room, in the same position he had been when Kurt left, lying on Chris' bed upside down with his feet resting against the wall, which Kurt was pretty sure was against Dalton policy. "You definitely aren't late to rehearsal."

"Ha ha," Kurt said sarcastically, setting down the messenger bag he had brought with him for no other reason than clutching to the strap through what he had assumed was going to be an awkward conversation. "I told you, I only went there to turn him down."

"And I see no ring on your finger, so he obviously didn't cry," Blaine said, looking at Kurt upside down with a teasing grin.

"You are so awful sometimes, you know that," Kurt said, taking off the sweater that was only there as another layer between him and the presumed advances of Griffin. He was sweltering in Dalton, which definitely had the money to be well-heated.

"You don't mean that," Blaine said, waving off Kurt's words. "You love me."

"Sometimes," Kurt replied, ignoring the way the word caught in his throat and taking off another layer.

"Is there a reason you're stripping? 'Cause this is much less interesting upside down," Blaine said, and Kurt firmly reminded himself that he was only teasing.

"Blaine!"

"Did you seriously put on extra layers to go see Griffin?" Blaine asked, sitting up and laughing. "He wasn't going to try to molest you, Kurt." Blaine seemed to realize his faux pas directly after he finished speaking. "Oh God, Kurt, I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I wasn't worried about Griffin molesting me, just about him being handsy," Kurt said with a shrug. "The only similarity between Griffin and Karofsky is their sexuality. And their size, I suppose."

"I'm glad Dalton has made you less jumpy," Blaine said, and when had this conversation gotten so serious?

"Yes, well, this is the longest amount of time I've ever gone without being slammed into a locker, so I guess I'm relaxing a little," Kurt said, debating taking off the tie on his outfit and deciding against it.

"Good," Blaine said with a smile. "We may be crazy, but at least we're not violent," he commented, returning to his upside down position that looked ridiculously comfortable.

"One of the few things in your favor," Kurt teased, but Blaine ignored it.

"Are you looking forward to Warbler's practice tomorrow? We get to start talking about _Regionals_!" It was kind of ridiculous how excited the Warblers were for Regionals. Everyone except Kurt.

"Yay," he said dryly, sitting on the bed next to Blaine.

"Still awkward competing against your old club?" the mind reading tenor on the other bed asked.

"Of course it is Blaine, they're my friends."

"Homesick?"

"You know me so well."

* * *

><p>Despite what he had told Kurt the day before, Blaine was completely fried by the time Warblers practice was over, and Kurt looked depressed, probably still homesick. Once again the entirety of the responsibility was resting on Blaine's shoulders, and for once he felt like he couldn't handle it. He teased Kurt all the time about the New Directions, but the fact was that they're fantastic, and he couldn't beat them alone. Not that he could make Wes see sense. That boy was too wrapped up in his own issues, whatever they were.<p>

By the time they were released, he knew he had to talk to Charlie, but he knew he was going to be on a short temper with the obviously fragile boy. He just couldn't find the energy to care.

"All right, what happened?" Blaine asked, barging into Charlie's room without so much as a knock. The thought that he would walk in on something he didn't really want to see didn't occur to him until after he had, so thank the Lord he hadn't.

"What happened with what?" Charlie asked stubbornly, sitting on his bed, apparently doing nothing.

"Charlie, I've been in a long rehearsal, and Regionals is coming up way too quickly, and I've just been through Wes' own personalized wringer, and I _really_ don't want to have to pull teeth through this conversation, so can we just cut to the chase, please?" Blaine demanded.

"You want to know what happened with Lucas? Fine." Charlie sighed, and closed his eyes. "I told him I loved him." Blaine intended to say something. He really did. But all that came out was a strangled sound. "I know it sounds crazy."

"Did you mean it?" Blaine blurted out.

"I don't know!" Charlie burst suddenly, jumping up to get in Blaine's face. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? I don't know what love feels like! I've never done this before! The closest I've ever come before was you!"

"What did he say?" Blaine asked, guiding Charlie over to the bed and sitting down, deciding to deal with that last sentence later.

"He tried to distract me by offering to give it up! He didn't say it back... obviously he didn't want to," Charlie said, all the anger suddenly gone as he slumped back against the wall. "And now I've messed everything up."

"Charlie," Blaine began, but Charlie cracked up laughing before he could say anything else. "What?"

"You know, I've been in this situation a hundred times the other way around. Who would have ever imagined I would be the one to say those three fucking stupid little words and my... Lucas would be the one trying to distract me with sex?" Charlie sighed again, and leaned against Blaine. "What do I do?"

"Charlie, you need to know if you meant it," Blaine said soothingly, rubbing the distraught boy's back. "I think Lucas thought you said that to get into his pants, and the fact that he was willing to let you means something."

"Not everyone thinks virginity is a big deal like your precious buttercup, Blaine," Charlie said softly.

"True, but my point is that I don't think Lucas thought that you meant it."

"I don't think I meant it," Charlie said, but Blaine knew denial, and it was written all over Charlie's face.

"I do. I really do. I saw the way you two were at Christmas, and he obviously adores you." One more thought occurred to him. "You didn't actually..." Charlie's guilty expression rendered the rest of Blaine's question unnecessary. "Jesus, Charlie."

"He's hot. I'm weak, and probably a sex addict. What was I supposed to do?"

Blaine sighed. "Fair enough."

"I know it was a bad idea."

"Good. You're learning."

"What do I do, Blaine?" Charlie asked again, sitting up but still leaning on him.

"Tell him, or show him, that you really meant it, that you didn't just say that to get into his pants." Blaine sighed again. "It would be a lot easier to convince him if that ploy hadn't actually worked."

"It wasn't a ploy!"

"You know what I mean, Charls."

"What if he doesn't say it back?" Charlie asked, and he sounded so small and unsure, Blaine just had to hug him.

"Than he's an idiot, because he's ruining something with a really great guy." Charlie hugged him back at that. "Even if you are a moron, and a little bit of a slut."

"And moment over," Charlie announced, pushing him away and grinning like they hadn't just had the deepest heart-to-heart of all time.

"One more question."

"Dear God." Blaine took that as an opportunity to forge ahead.

"What did you mean earlier, when you said the closest you've ever been to love before was me?" Blaine asked, and Charlie sighed.

"Fuck, I was hoping you hadn't caught that." Charlie rubbed a hand over his face. "Can we just forget about this?"

"Nope."

"Fine. You're the first person I ever slept with who I actually gave a damn about. I mean, I'd had a lot of 'boyfriends,'" Charlie, maturely, used air quotes, "but I'd never actually treated them like friends. I kept sex partners and friends completely separate, and treated them completely different. You're the only person, besides Lucas, who I've ever considered both. Count yourself a lucky bastard."

"I do, you ridiculous sap," Blaine teased, knowing Charlie would feel more comfortable that way.

"So how goes things with the guy not comparable to Kurt at all?" Charlie asked, changing the topic bluntly as always.

"Things are okay," Blaine replied, ignoring Charlie's failure at segues. "He's been pretty busy lately, so we haven't been talking a lot, but we're going out for coffee one more time before Valentine's Day."

"Oh yay," Charlie said sarcastically.

"What is your problem with him?" Blaine asked, suddenly fed up. "Besides the fact that Jeremiah's not Kurt?"

"Why can't you see that Kurt's perfect for you?"

"Why can't _you_ see that Kurt's not into me?"

"I'm an impartial observer Blaine, I think my sight is a little more clear than yours."

"You're _completely_ partial."

"Whatever, Blainers. We all know love makes you blind."

"I'm not in love with... You know what? Never mind. I don't care. Make all the jokes you want about Jeremiah and the fact that he's not Kurt, but I will continue to like him _and_ I'm still serenading him on Valentine's Day," Blaine said defiantly.

"Oh great. That'll go over swell," Charlie said, not elaborating. "When should I talk to Lucas?"

"Sooner rather than later, but make sure it's face-to-face," Blaine advised, knowing how things could be misinterpreted over the phone.

"Okay." Charlie took a deep breath. "Get out of here, I'm gonna call him."

"Good luck," Blaine said as he left Charlie alone, really hoping those two would make it. Lucas made Charlie so happy, and as far as Blaine knew, he was the only long-term partner Charlie had ever been faithful to.

"Would you stop teasing please?" Wes demanded, far down the hall, and walking with David, who was grinning wildly.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" David asked, and Blaine didn't even want to know where his hand went following that sentence.

"Holy shit," Blaine breathed out, and, though he would never admit it later, he ducked as far into Charlie's doorway as possible to see what would happen.

"More like driving me crazy," Wes muttered, and Blaine tried to suppress a gasp as he pinned David to the door of their dorm and kissed the crap out of him. "Bed, now," Wes murmured into their kiss as David fumbled with the key.

"It'd be a lot easier to do this if you weren't doing _that_." Blaine didn't investigate further. He didn't want to know.

"Holy shit," he repeated as he walked in the opposite direction from his dorm, just to avoid the two horny guys going at it in the hallway who had presumed themselves unobserved, "I can't believe Charlie was actually right."

* * *

><p>"Happy first of the month!" Chris said cheerfully when Kurt woke up on February 1st.<p>

"Great, only two weeks until the worst holiday in the world," Kurt said, making a face at his unusually peppy roommate.

"Oh come on. Valentine's Day isn't that bad!" Chris was doing his hair, Kurt realized, and he was up early, even for a Tuesday. Didn't he have study hall first period today?

"Do you have a _girlfriend_?" Kurt asked suddenly, knowing that was the mots likely explanation for the sudden flip-flop of personality.

"I... don't know what you're talking about," Chris said, but he was blushing a little and he couldn't stop smiling.

"You _do_!" Kurt immediately pounced on the news, and subsequently Chris' bed. "You met someone at Crawford Country Day!"

"You're too good at this game," Chris said, "and I would be pouting if I wasn't so happy."

"Well, I'm happy for you and mystery girl at least," Kurt said, giving his roommate a hug around the shoulders before he realized that was probably a little over their boundaries. "Uh, sor-"

"Thanks, Kurt," Chris said before Kurt could get his apology out. "What's up with you and Blaine?"

"Same old, same old," Kurt said, but then the thought occurred to him. Chris was the one person at Dalton Academy who was more loyal to Kurt than to Blaine. He could tell Chris _anything_. "Well, kind of."

"If you tell me what you're talking about and stop dancing around it, I'll tell you all about my girlfriend, but you first."

"Deal," Kurt said, happy to be able to talk to a guy who was actually comfortable talking about boys with him. "He may have made some hints that he might be serenading me on Valentine's Day."

"But?" Chris asked, hearing the word coming before Kurt said it.

"I also have this sinking feeling that there's someone else. Jeff said he saw something, but he picks on us all the time. I'm not sure it's me." Chris turned to face him.

"I don't know all that much about guys, especially gay ones, but I know a little something about what a guy looks like when he's head-over-heels, and I see that in both of you every time you and Blaine look at each other. If it's not you, he's the stupidest idiot in the world, because not only are you a complete gay catch, but that would mean he's too oblivious to see his own feelings, and anyone that moronic isn't worth your time," Chris asserted, and Kurt couldn't help but hug him again.

"Thanks, Chris. _So_, tell me all about the lucky girl."

"Her name is Chrissy, and she's absolutely gorgeous. She has medium brown eyes, brown wavy hair, and a _great _smile. She's one of the Songbirds, but she kind of does what most of the Warblers do."

"Sing in the background?"

"Sing in the background," Chris confirmed, "but when we went out on Saturday I got her to sing for me and she's _really_ talented. Like Jenna Leigh Green talented."

"I'm so proud you know that Jenna Leigh Green can sing!" Kurt said, but Chris ignored him.

"She's really awesome. She's funny and smart, and she's a little bit sassy, but she's not mean, and I just really like her."

"You're gushing," Kurt said with a smile. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Kurt. And I'm happy for you in advance," Chris grinned, "now get ready for school."

"Yes, dad," Kurt said sarcastically, but he did as Chris said. If he hadn't, he would have been late for school.

"You sound exactly like Chrissy!"

"Well that's creepy!"

* * *

><p>"Can we talk after school?" Blaine asked him during lunch in a low, surprisingly guilty tone. "I may have discovered something that explains a lot."<p>

"I need to talk to Charlie first," Kurt said as he picked at his salad. "I think something's up with him."

"Yeah, I already talked to him about Lucas. You will never believe what happened."

"Something besides that, I mean. I think he's avoiding me." Now Blaine _looked_ guilty. What was going on here?

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't talked to me unless we were surrounded by people, or he had to. Have you noticed that? Every time I approach the two of you, he runs off to try and fix things with Lucas. It can't be a coincidence." Blaine shrugged.

"He's weird sometimes. Talk to him about it."

"I will, and I'll come by your dorm after, okay?"

"Sure," Blaine agreed. "I'll have coffee ready."

"And that's why you're the best friend ever."

* * *

><p>"What don't I know?" Kurt demanded as he strode into Charlie's room.<p>

"Kurt!" Charlie practically jumped out of his skin. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure out why you've been avoiding me," Kurt said, shutting the door behind him and leaning on it.

"Yeah, that's likely," Charlie said, leering at him. "Flimsy excuse, even for you, Hummel."

"Flimsy diversion, even for you, Shields," he retorted. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, but I'm not blind, and I know you've been avoiding me. Every time I'm near you, you run off call Lucas or talk to someone else, even people you don't know! Just tell me what's going on."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, but at least he had given up the fake seduction thing. "I can't tell you," he said finally. "It's not my place."

"So it has to do with Blaine then?" Kurt asked, and he was getting that sinking feeling in his stomach that had happened after his little fight with Blaine. Charlie knew everything about Blaine, surely he knew more about Valentine's Day than Kurt did. "And probably about Valentine's Day too."

"I can't tell you!" Charlie said, obviously frustrated. "Trust me, I'd love to tell you, but it wouldn't be fair to Blaine, or to you."

"I can't even tell if you want to tell me what I want you to tell me or something totally different," Kurt said, thoroughly confused by his own sentence.

"I can't even tell you that!" Charlie said, groaning. "All I know is that you'll know soon enough."

"Like two weeks, soon enough?" Kurt asked, and Charlie only shrugged, looking uncomfortable _and_ guilty. "Fine! Will you at least stop avoiding me then? Whatever's going to happen, I know it's not your fault, okay?" Kurt was so surprised he stumbled when Charlie threw himself at Kurt and hugged him.

"Okay," was all he said, squeezing Kurt tight before letting him go.

"Gaga, you're weird," Kurt muttered to himself, not really caring if Charlie heard him, turning around to go.

"And if you ever do wanna come back for a little," Charlie imitated the squeaking of bed springs, "let me know."

"Pervert!" Kurt called out as he left, hating the fact that he was blushing. Charlie was so _vulgar_.

'_Fergalicious definition: make them boys go loco. They want my treasure, so they get their pleasures from my photo'_ Kurt's phone rang out, a familiar ring tone that Kurt remember for the life of him who he had assigned it too. "Hello?" he asked, not bothering to look at the caller ID. If someone had a personalized ring tone, he wanted to talk to them.

"_Hi, Kurt._"

"Lucas!" Kurt said, surprised. "I'm glad you called, we haven't talked in forever."

"_Can I ask you for advice about Charlie? I mean, I know you live with him, so if it's too weird..._"

"No, of course you can," Kurt said, headed for his dorm room, probably ahead of Blaine, who had to drive to the Lima Bean and back. Unless he got coffee from that cafeteria where he had first met Wes and David. That coffee was pretty good. "I was just talking to him." Dead silence. "Not about you, but I think he's pretty... emotional."

"_Yeah, some emotional stuff happened._" Lucas cleared his throat. "_First and foremost, I lied to you._"

"About what?" Kurt said, knowing that Lucas could be as dramatic as he was when it came to conversation starters.

"_The fact that I wouldn't give Charlie my virginity._" Kurt almost dropped his phone.

"I... wow."

"_Don't judge okay. Things got... complicated._" Lucas sounded stressed and nervous.

"I'm not judging. I'm just surprised, I guess."

"_I'm hoping you're not the kind of guy to ask all about it, because that's really not what I wanted to talk about_," Lucas said, but he sounded like he was teasing.

"Never," Kurt vowed, because he really didn't want to know. "What made it so complicated?"

"_Charlie... Charlie told me that he loved me._" That time Kurt actually did drop his phone, but Lucas could obviously tell because Kurt hadn't missed anything by the time he picked it back up. "_I know, it sounds weird and uncharacteristic and made up, but it really did happen._"

"I believe you, I just... Wait a minute," Kurt said, remembering something. "If you just gave it up to Charlie when this... issue started, that means he was lying about you two... going at it repeatedly during Christmas break."

"_We... we fooled around a lot, but we never actually had sex, no,_" Lucas said, and Kurt could almost hear the 'are we seriously talking about this instead of my problem?' in his voice.

"Sorry, I just had to know. And he phrased it to make it completely nebulous. That bastard."

"_Kurt, some focus would be nice._" Lucas was always so patient.

"Sorry. So, Charlie told you he loved you, and you slept with him to avoid saying anything back. I think that's one of the fifty reasons to have sex they listed on How I Met Your Mother."

"_Number forty three and where I got the idea. God we think alike sometimes_."

"Except I don't think about God."

"_Do you think he meant it? Do you think Charlie really loves me, or do you think he just said that to get... exactly what he got?"_ Kurt really thought about it for a moment, and he couldn't decide. He had no idea how Charlie felt.

"I don't know him well enough to tell you, but I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt. I know about his... reputation, but all people are capable of change, and I know you really like him, despite what you said at Christmas. I saw it in your eyes when we were at that restaurant. So just give him a chance."

"_I am. We're meeting up on Monday at Dalton, and we're going to talk about things, see where this is going_." Lucas cleared his throat. "_I'm nervous, Kurt._"

"Do you love him?" Kurt surprised himself by asking Lucas the one question he promised he wouldn't.

"_I don't know. I think I _could_, but I'm not sure I do right now_," Lucas said, and when had they become close enough to have this kind of conversation.

"Than that's what you need to tell him." Blaine rapped on the door with a coffee in each hand, mouthing 'who'.

"_I will. Thanks, Kurt_. _I owe you one_."

"No problem," Kurt said, and he waited until he was sure Lucas had hung up to put the phone down.

"Who was that?" Blaine asked, handing Kurt one of the coffees.

"Lucas. He wanted to talk about Charlie."

"So you know what happened?" Blaine asked, taking a sip of his coffee and prompting Kurt to do the same. Definitely coffee from downstairs. Fine, but why had it taken Blaine so long?

"Yeah. Wow," he said when Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"I know."

"Poor Lucas," Kurt said.

"Poor Charlie," Blaine said at the same time, and then they both questioned one another.

"Charlie's dealing with feelings he's never felt before and a whole different kind of relationship than he's used to. He's an emotional wreck," Blaine defended his statement.

"And Lucas is getting the backlash of all those emotions at a time when he has a right to be the emotional one," Kurt pointed out, not necessarily arguing.

"This just sucks all around, doesn't it?"

"Yep, and we get to be the ones in the middle." They both sipped their coffees before Kurt remembered why they were holding this little meeting. "So, what's your discovery?"

"Wes and David are together." Blaine stared at Kurt, who stared back at him blankly. "Like, _together_ together."

"How did you find out?" Kurt asked casually, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You _knew_?" Blaine asked, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Yes, I found out about two weeks ago," Kurt said, still acting as casual as possible to drive Blaine crazy. "And they know I know. Well, at least Wes does."

"How is it that you found out my two best friends were... romantic, before I did?" Blaine asked, and he sounded almost hurt.

"I walked in on them kissing after practice one day," Kurt replied.

"What, does rehearsal make them horny or something? I saw them getting busy against the door to their dorm after rehearsal on Sunday! Of course, the difference is, _I_ told _you_ almost immediately!"

"It's been two days, Blaine, and besides, I respect their privacy. They've been together for years-"

"Years?" Blaine practically squeaked.

"So whatever reason they have for being in the closet must be a good one," Kurt said, trying to calm Blaine down. "And the fact that they didn't tell you, and that _I_ didn't tell you, isn't personal."

"Have they really been together for years?" Blaine asked, all hurt gone from his voice.

"Five years, according to Wes," Kurt replied, "but I only found that out on Friday, at the park."

"Wow. How did Charlie notice that when I didn't?" Blaine asked, and Kurt couldn't help but reply to the rhetorical question.

"Well, you can be a little oblivious sometimes." He regretted saying it immediately when Blaine's brow creased in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just that sometimes you miss things. Like Jeff and Nick, Wes and David..." Kurt wanted to say 'me and you' so badly it was ridiculous, and he didn't only because it was still possible Blaine hadn't been entirely oblivious in their case.

"Fair enough," Blaine said with a sigh, leaning back on his bed. "Just... wow. So much crazy, so different than normal."

"Oh, so you're saying Dalton isn't always an entirely gay soap opera?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>"Please tell me you're not going out for coffee with Jeremiah again," Charlie said as soon as he saw Blaine re-gelling his hair.<p>

"I told you I was going to," Blaine replied, smoothing out the last curl with satisfaction.

"Yes, but I thought that was only because you were mad at me!" Charlie whined. "Why must you do this?"

"Charlie, we've talked about this," Blaine said firmly, grabbing his coat. "I like Jeremiah. I like talking to him. I like the fact that he has such a different perspective on the world. I like going out to coffee with him. I'm _going_ to serenade him on Valentine's Day. So could you just be happy for me? Please?"

"No," Charlie said stubbornly, flouncing away in the dramatically angry way he did when he was having one of his diva fits. Blaine smiled to himself. Let someone else take care of it, he was going on a date! Well, sort of.

"Hey, Blaine... you look spiffy," Kurt said, raising an eyebrow.

"Thanks. Just thought I'd clean up a little after the weird day I've had today. Charlie seems to be in a state again."

"Isn't Charlie always in a state?" Kurt asked, and Blaine laughed.

"True," he said, slipping on his coat.

"Where are you headed?" Kurt asked, and he sounded oddly suspicious.

"I'm going to meet some of the CCD girls at the Lima Bean. I would invite you along, but you're unprepared, and they would tear you apart like a pride of lions going after a handicapped gazelle," Blaine lied smoothly. He felt bad about lying to Kurt, but he didn't want rumors about him and Jeremiah spreading before Valentine's Day, and he certainly didn't want to tell his best friend (whom he may or may not still have a little bit of a crush on) about something that probably wasn't even real.

"Yikes," Kurt said, looking at Blaine's freshly gelled hair one more time. "You really do need to cut back on the gel. I think it's getting worse."

"Shut up," Blaine said fondly, giving his friend a hug before heading for the Lima Bean. A cute boy was waiting for him. He could feel Kurt staring after him, and he knew Kurt was probably suspicious, but he would know soon enough about the amazing man Blaine was starting to... maybe even love.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Merry Christmas! A short chapter very shortly after a gigantic chapter. Sounds fair, right? And it's actually very early on Christmas as I type this, which is the only reason I wrote a religion-specific exclamation. So, this is mostly filler, with some expansion and the final, dramatic reveal of what has been happening with Charlie and Lucas. Also, I really wish RM would release Kurt and Mercedes doing **_**Fergalicious**_** with the Cheerios. That's the reason behind the ringtone. My story board is helping my writing tremendously, so hopefully you guys will get the next chapter soon, which will include some canon, but probably not Valentine's Day. Also: the two things I couldn't spell this chapter were Charlie's name and the word Valentine, so I'm sorry if you see them misspelled anywhere that my bizarre spell check did not pick up.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Fergalicious_' by Fergie

**Review are Love. And awesome Christmas presents.**


	22. Suspicious Behavior

**A/N: Reasons I did not write Kurt's visit home - I didn't particularly want to, it isn't plot important, nothing of interest happened that I didn't mention later, it would be a lot of words and this chapter is already kind of long, and, oh yeah, I didn't really want to. We can assume Kurt had a lazy weekend at home with some shopping with Mercedes and the other ladies, a musical marathon with Rachel, and some bro bonding time with Finn during which he recounted all the ridiculous things that happened at the Warbler bonding event. There: written. Now read the important parts.**

* * *

><p>Kurt was humming along to his stereo, dancing around his room and packing a bag. Since his first weekend at Dalton had been a little hard, and the last two weeks had been rather odd and brutal, Kurt had decided to go home for the weekend, and he was pretty excited to tell Finn the latest Dalton shenanigans. The only difference was, now he was a part of them. Either way, the full day bonding event would dominate the lady chats over warm milk this weekend.<p>

"All right, I give up," Blaine announced, walking into Kurt's room with a bottle of hair gel in his hand. "All of my hair gel is missing except for this bottle. You say you can do my hair without gel? Do... Are you packing?"

"I'm going home for the weekend," Kurt replied. "Don't worry, you guys haven't scared me off that easily. I've dealt with weirder. Not by much, but..."

"Oh. Good. I'm glad. Anyway, I double dog dare you to try and tame this wild mane," he continued his original topic, gesturing to his half-gelled curls, "without the amount of gel I use. Go ahead. Try."

"Bathroom," Kurt demanded. "Wash all the gel out of your hair and I'll be in there once I'm done packing." Blaine obeyed, and Kurt finished putting some of his normal clothes in his bag. Packing was pretty pointless (he could do laundry at Dalton and he didn't wear his normal clothes very often, so he really didn't need to switch out outfits), but he felt awkward arriving home without anything in hand.

"Done," Blaine announced, and his hair was a completely wet mop falling around his head and eyes. Kurt couldn't help but giggle, and Blaine glared at him from underneath his mountains of hair. "It's not funny."

"Oh, yes it is. Didn't I tell you to stay in there?" Kurt said, pointing towards the bathroom. "You're getting water all over my floor."

"It's Dalton's floor," Blaine replied sassily, but he did go back in the bathroom once he realized there was water forming small pools on the floor dripping from his hair. Kurt followed one last shirt, laughing to himself to get it out of his system, then followed Blaine into the bathroom, grabbing Chris' desk chair and rolling it in ahead of him.

"Sit down," Kurt ordered, grabbing a much better hair gel from his vanity and a comb. Blaine looked at the instrument warily. "What? Be glad it's not scissors." Blaine's eyes widened even more at that. "Oh calm down. Sit," he ordered again, and Blaine obeyed this time.

"Why did I come in here again?"

"Wes and David stole your hair gel," Kurt answered promptly. "Oh. Um, I mean, _someone_ stole your hair gel..." he tried to correct. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Of course it was those idiots." Blaine just smiled. He was so used to his friends. "Do you have any idea what their argument was about, during the bonding thing?"

"Not the faintest clue, but judging by what I heard during the paint fight, it sounded like Wes got jealous that David was unintentionally flirting with the waitress," Kurt said, trying to towel most of the water out of Blaine's hair without making it fluffy.

"Didn't it start before that?" Blaine asked, and then Kurt realized that it had.

"Huh, I don't know," he replied, "but whatever it is, I'm pretty sure it's over now."

"I'm not so sure," Blaine said, leaning back. "Mm, that feels nice." Kurt was about to ask, then realized he was practically massaging Blaine's scalp as he dried so yes, it probably did feel pretty good. "I think they've been in a constant state of argument since I've known them... which actually makes a lot more sense now."

"Now the missing piece is why they've been in the closet for five years," Kurt said, putting down the towel now that Blaine's hair was just damp. "Your curls really aren't that bad."

"You're magic," Blaine declared, but he wasn't even looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes were closed. "And I don't know. I can understand being in the closet at their middle school. It was run by priests, like the Catholic schools in bad movies."

"Like _Confession_?" Kurt asked, finally having watched one of the movies Charlie mentioned all the time while mocking the Catholic religion.

"Exactly," Blaine said, but he sounded sleepy. "All the people were super religious, and admitting they were dating would not have gone over well, but they've been at Dalton together for three years, and-"

"Why do you say it like that?" Kurt asked. "Been here together?"

"Wes is a senior," Blaine replied. "He's graduating after this year, and it's going to be the first time they've been apart since they met."

"How is that possible?" Kurt asked, and Blaine sighed.

"There's a kindergarten through twelfth grade school that's super religious in Columbus. David went there through eighth grade, Wes through ninth. They both transferred to Dalton the same year."

"Talk about dedication," Kurt said as he combed gently through Blaine's curls, careful not to stretch them too much or pull Blaine's hair. He hadn't complained, so Kurt assumed he was doing a good job.

"Their parents never wanted to separate them," Blaine commented. "Now that I think about it, I bet they know. They've always treated them like a joint entity. I mean, Wes goes over to David's house for Christmas more than he goes to his own, and vice versa with Thanksgiving."

"This never seemed suspicious to you?" Kurt asked, and Blaine stuck his tongue out at Kurt. "Speaking of suspicious behavior..."

"Yes?"

"Where have you been disappearing to?" he asked now that he had Blaine essentially held captive. "And don't feed me any more of that crap about going out with the Songbirds. My roommate is dating one, I know what's going on."

"Chris is dating a Songbird? Which one?" Blaine asked.

"He calls her Chrissy, so I'm guessing it's Christine." Blaine nodded.

"That's good. She's really sweet. She actually reminds me of you a little with her sense of humor."  
>"That's what Chris said," Kurt replied, and realized he had gotten totally side-tracked by Blaine. "Nice deflection, but don't think you're getting out of answering me."<p>

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Blaine replied as Kurt put just the smallest amount of gel in his curls to keep them as is. He styled them a little messily, but it looked good on Blaine. _Everything_ looked good on Blaine.

"And... done," he announced, and Blaine finally opened his eyes.

"Meh," he decided. "It doesn't really look like me." Blaine looked up at his impromptu hairdresser with a smile. "Or was that the point?"

"Ha ha," Kurt said sarcastically. "I think it looks good, and I have better taste than you do," Kurt pointed out, but Blaine ignored him.

"Well, it looks okay, but I'll probably pick up some more hair gel in Columbus this weekend. Thank you though."

"What is with this insistence on hair gel?" Kurt asked, a little annoyed. "You look so much hotter without it!" Blaine looked at him with a smirk and Kurt flushed when he realized what he had said. "I-I mean..."

"I know what you mean, dummy," Blaine said fondly, rolling his eyes. "And I really don't know what you're talking about. I go out for coffee every day, even if you don't come with me, if that's what you mean." Kurt frowned. That was the worst excuse he had ever heard.

"I..." don't believe that for a second, he intended to say. "All right. I believe you. It's not like you would ever lie to me," he guilted Blaine.

"Right," Blaine said, but he wasn't looking Kurt in the eyes. What could it possibly be?

"Besides, if I really wanted to know, I could just ask Charlie," Kurt pretended to muse and Blaine's eyes widened considerably for a moment before his expression smoothed out. "Oh, yes, how did that talk with him go?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt said sarcastically. "I'm heading out." Kurt strode out to the main part of his room and fully intended to leave without saying another word to Blaine.

"Kurt," Blaine called out, leaning against his doorframe. When Kurt looked over at him, Blaine walked over and hugged him. Kurt sighed and hugged him in return. He could never stay mad at Blaine. "Have a good weekend," Blaine said as he released him.

"I will," Kurt promised. He scribbled down a quick note for Chris to take care of Pav for him, and left. He could feel Blaine watching him leave.

* * *

><p>"I am going to <em>kill<em> this bird," Chris announced when Kurt arrived back at Dalton Sunday night. "It's been tweeting all weekend."

"Pavarotti does not tweet," Kurt said firmly, "he is not an animated yellow bird."

"No, but he _is_ going to die if he doesn't shut up," Chris said.

"Aw, did you miss me, Pav?" Kurt asked Pavarotti, who chirped back at him. "I'll take that as a yes."

"You're almost as crazy about the bird as you are about Blaine, aren't you?" Chris asked.

"Well, you're in a mood today," Kurt retorted, checking to make sure Pav had enough food. "At least you took good care of him."

"I imagined what you would have done to me if I hadn't, and that's the reason I didn't just let the bird die of natural causes," Chris commented, lying on his bed reading _Aesop's Fables_.

"You don't have the imagination to guess what I would have done if you had killed Pavarotti," Kurt threatened. "And starvation is _not_ a natural cause."

"It can happen naturally. It's a natural cause," Chris argued, and Kurt gave in. Chris had four siblings, he was much better at arguing than Kurt, who only had one, and Finn was recently acquired. "How was your weekend?"

"Good," Kurt said cheerily as he placed down a bag full of designer outfits that were much more in season than the ones he had brought home. "Hung out with my girls, spent time with my family, soaked in all the drama of the New Directions that I shockingly don't miss." Chris laughed at that. "Anything of interest happen here?"

"Eric Hordon transferred, so Charlie spent most of Saturday morning running around campus singing _No One Mourns the Wicked_, and Blaine spent most of it chasing him, trying to get him to stop. We and his girlfriend broke up very dramatically in the parking lot; there was egg-throwing involved. Mason woke his brother up this morning by shooting him with twenty rounds from a NERF gun, and a subsequent NERF gun fight broke out. So, no, not really." Kurt cracked up laughing. "Did you miss us?"

"Unbelievably, yes, I did. The Warblers are a part of my big, ridiculous, overly-dramatic extended family now, and I love them dearly. Even if I need to escape the madness every once and a while." Kurt sat down once his clothes were put away. "How are things with Chrissy?"

"Awesome. I only got to see her on Friday night, because the Songbirds went out canvassing their future competition this weekend, but she's so amazing." Kurt rolled his eyes at the sap in his roommate's voice.

"I'm glad you're happy," he said, and he started to tune Chris out as he continued.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready for the big day?" Blaine asked Kurt the next morning as Mr. Bressler wrapped up AP Government with a joke that insulted women, gays, and anyone born after 1990 all at once.<p>

"Pardon?" Kurt asked. "I really hope you're not talking Valentine's Day."

"No, but that is coming up. Lucas is coming today, remember. Either we'll have a really mopey Charlie, or no one will be able to go within a fifty-foot-radius of Charlie's room without being traumatized. Proving how bizarre life at Dalton is, I'm really hoping it's the latter."

"Me too," Kurt said. "Charlie is good for Lucas."

"And vice versa," Blaine agreed, taking Kurt's hand like it was second nature. It probably was at this point. "Do you have any idea when he's coming?"

"Not the faintest clue," Kurt replied, "but knowing how within-the-lines Lucas tends to be, I'd bet he's coming here after school."

"Charlie has to wait all the way until four o'clock? Poor bastard," Blaine said with a sigh as they headed towards the commons for break.

"Kurt, this heart is for you," Clayton said, handing Kurt a purple heart and then walking off.

"Poor freshman," Kurt said. Charlie was still after him.

"Or sophomore," Blaine commented. "Did we ever establish that?"

"I'm pretty sure he's a freshman," Kurt said as he opened up the heart, and almost dropped it when he read the name. "Blaine, look at this."

"Oh, hey, look. Someone you actually know," Blaine said, sticking his tongue out at Kurt. "TJ? Isn't he the really quiet kid in your English class? I didn't even know he was gay."

"Neither did I," Kurt commented. "Huh."

"Still feeling completely undesirable, Hummel?" Blaine asked, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"TJ doesn't really _know_ me," he argued, and Blaine glared at him.

"What, does it have to be one of the Warblers for you to get the point?"

"No," Kurt replied. The correct answer was 'it has to be _you_', but there was no way he was telling Blaine that. "I'm really looking forward to some sort of _Paint It Black_ incident."

"Don't hold your breath. Did you not read the e-mail that Ryan sent out declaring the punishment to anyone that tries to imitate the seniors? It's pretty harsh."

"What, expulsion?" Kurt asked, trying to think of the worst thing Dalton could come up with.

"Nope," Blaine replied. "Think 'What would Charlie do?' and you pretty much have the answer to your question."

"I don't even want to know." Only about three seconds passed before Kurt dissented, "Okay, yes I do."

"Read the e-mail. Speaking of the man himself!" Blaine said suddenly, and Kurt turned to see who he was talking about.

"What?"

"Hey, Kurt." Kurt almost jumped out of his skin. It was Charlie, but he hadn't recognized him at all with plain nails and brown hair that wasn't styled into a faux-hawk.

"What..." Kurt wanted to ask about a billion questions, but that was all he could get out.

"Dyed it back," Charlie said, running a hand through his hair. "Cut and styled it back to normal." Charlie shrugged. "Thought it was time for a change."

"Perhaps, but what I would expect as a change from you would be bright blue or purple or something!" Kurt exclaimed, a little bit thrown.

"I think what Kurt is trying to say is, are you all right, Charlie?" Blaine asked softly, and Charlie jumped, pulling away, when Blaine touched his arm lightly.

"It's just hair, Blainers. And I'm fine." Charlie fiddled with the edges of his blazer.

"You're nervous enough about Lucas coming today that you dyed your hair back to brown, took acetone to your nails, and are actually adhering to dress code today?" Blaine said, eyeing Charlie's outfit, which lacked any of his usual rule-breaking flare. "You really do love him."

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kurt!" Lucas saw Kurt jump when he called out his name, but the countertenor smiled and waved when he saw him. "Nice to see a familiar face."<p>

"Good to see you too," Kurt said, hugging him. "So, how many classes did you skip?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I had to see him," was all Lucas said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Could you be a little more specific?" Kurt asked teasingly.

"Kurt..."

"All right, all right. Go through the commons," Kurt pointed to a wide set of double doors behind him, "and down the beaten path until you reach the lacrosse fields. Take a left, and three buildings down on the right should be the Stevenson dorms. Since he hasn't been in any of his classes today, I'm wiling to bet he's in his dorm room. How do you not know where that is?"

"I've only ever been here for that Warblers thing," Lucas admitted. "Most of the time he comes over to my house, or meets me after Cheerios."

"Room 217. Good luck," Kurt said, breezing past him, and Lucas saw that lucky Blaine guy waiting by the doors, watching them. Blaine probably didn't like him very much. The feeling was entirely mutual.

Lucas waited until he saw Kurt reach the Blaine guy, and Blaine take the countertenor's hand, before he headed for the double doors Kurt had pointed to. In reality, it probably took about five minutes for Lucas to walk to Charlie's dorm, fighting the flow of uniformed Dalton boys, who all seemed to be going towards where he had just come from. It must have been lunch time or something. It was about noon, so that was probably right. To Lucas, the walk felt like two seconds, and then he was having to concentrate on breathing correctly as he knocked on Charlie's door.

"Blaine, I swear to God, if you don't fuck off, I will..." Lucas never got to hear the rest of the threat, because Charlie opened the door and froze mid-sentence. Lucas' throat when dry. "Lucas," Charlie said, smiling shyly.

"Charlie. Hi," he said, and it was probably the most eloquent thing he could have said based on the situation. Well, there were much worse things he could have said.

"You're early," Charlie replied. "I'm surprised you're here at all." Lucas was about to object, but Charlie continued. "I thought Sylvester would have killed you by now for what happened at cheerleading Regionals."

"Wasn't my fault," Lucas said lightly. "Can... can I come in?"

"Oh," Charlie said, as if he had just realized he was standing in the doorway. "Yeah, sure. Of course." Charlie stepped out of the way, and Lucas walked into the dorm he had never seen before. He heard Charlie gulp as Lucas brushed him walking by. "So..." Charlie said, sitting down at the edge of the bed after the most awkward and tense silence of both of their lives. At least, he hoped it had been the most awkward and tense silence of Charlie's life as well, but it wouldn't entirely surprise him if it hadn't been.

"We should talk," Lucas said, as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world, sitting down in Charlie's reading chair. "About the other day..." Lucas cleared his throat, "and the other night."

"I... yeah. Um, I don't really have any protocol... are you okay?" Charlie asked softly, and Lucas chuckled.

"That wasn't quite what I meant, Charlie." When his boyfriend, if he could still call him that... or if he could ever call him that, really, still looked concerned, Lucas sighed. "Yes. I'm fine. Better than fine. That night was..." he had to clear his throat again, "incredible."

"Oh," Charlie said, as if that was a surprise. "Good. Practice makes perfect, right?" he said with a leer, and Lucas sighed again.

"Charlie, you don't have to act like that around me," Lucas said softly, and the leer dropped right off of Charlie's face.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice a little rough. "So, I'm guessing you want to talk ab-"

"Why did you say it?" Lucas asked, not wanting to dance around what had happened anymore. "Did you mean it?"

"I said it because..." Charlie bit his lip, but Lucas didn't say anything. He had to know. "I said it because I meant it. Because I _felt_ it."

"Not to get into my pants?" Lucas asked, and Charlie chuckled.

"No, but I'm glad it worked." They both laughed at that, but the atmosphere was still tense. "Number forty-three?" Charlie asked.

"Did Kurt tell you that?" Charlie shook his head.

"He didn't have to." There was awkward silence for a moment, Lucas coming to sit next to Charlie on the bed. "You realize I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here, right? I've never done... _this_ before," Charlie gestured between the two of them, "the whole being in love thing."

"I know," Lucas said with a shrug. "We can figure it out together. Just don't freak out on me, all right?"

"No promises," Charlie said, smiling for the first time since Lucas had first arrived. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Charlie spoke. "It's okay that you didn't say it back, you know," Charlie said softly, and Lucas nodded. He didn't think Charlie was mad. "Can I just... why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want to say it if I didn't mean it, and I wasn't sure I would have meant it," Lucas answered, his heart clenching as Charlie's face fell.

"Oh," was all Charlie said, but his body language said it all. He had curled away from Lucas, his shoulders slumping.

"Charlie. Look at me." Charlie did, and he looked so _vulnerable_ that Lucas just wanted to kiss him and stop it with this stupid conversation. "I care about you, more than I've ever care about any of my other boyfriends... or girlfriends for that matter. I know you don't like the word boyfriend," Charlie had winced both times he said it, "and I don't care about that label anyway. I don't care about any of your little quirks, or the fact that you have nicknames for everyone, or the fact that you're intolerably cranky in the morning, or the fact that you're so vulgar you could make porn stars blush, or how random and energized you are. I like all those things about you. They're what make you... you. And no, when we first started dating, I heard about your reputation, even from Kurt, and I didn't think this would go very far, but it _did_. And am I _falling_ in love with you? I think so, but I'm not quite there yet. Okay?" Charlie's whole expression had lit up, his green eyes practically glowing.

"I love you," Charlie said, leaning forward and grabbing Lucas in the dirtiest kiss they had ever shared... and that was saying something. "I love you so much."

"I-"

"Don't. It doesn't matter," Charlie said as he kissed at Lucas' neck, already working to pull of his shirt.

"Eager much?" Lucas said with a laugh as he pulled Charlie up farther on the bed.

"A little," Charlie muttered, kissing under Lucas' jaw.

"I like your hair, by the way," Lucas murmured against Charlie's lips. He had noticed the natural color when he had first come in, but it definitely wasn't more important than what they had needed to talk about. "Your fingernails look weird unpainted though."

"My hands were shaking too badly," Charlie muttered. "Now can you please shut the fuck up and kiss me?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>"So things are all right between you and Lucas?" Blaine asked him the next morning, which was the next time they saw Charlie. True to Blaine's guess, even Charlie's normally very tolerant neighbors hadn't been able to stand being around Charlie the previous night. One of them had crashed in Blaine's room.<p>

"Better than all right," Charlie said, his neck covered in hickeys he had made absolutely no attempt to hide. "They're _awesome_."

"Did he say it back?" Kurt asked, trying not to stare at the dark purple marks on the lower part of Charlie's neck. It was a difficult task.

"No, but he didn't need to. I know how he feels." Charlie grinned, running a hand through his new hair. "This is so fucking _weird_. I can't stop smiling, and I'm literally buoyant"

"And you haven't even noticed or commented on the fact that Michael's pants are too tight for dress code," Blaine said almost proudly.

"I don't even _care_. Ugh, what is happening to me?" Charlie asked, and he was trying to sound frustrated, but his tone clashed with his wide smile.

"It's called you're in love, idiot. Congratulations," Blaine said, smiling slightly.

"Ugh," Charlie groaned, face-planting into the table in a manner that looked rather painful. "Stop smiling!"

"Is he talking to his face?" Kurt asked.

"I think so." Blaine just shrugged.

"So how sore is Lucas' ass this morning?" David asked as he and Wes approached, and Kurt buried his face in his hands. Why did they have to talk like that?

"How sore is yours?" Charlie retorted, not looking up from his near-splat.

"Not as sore as his," David said with a grin, not even looking bothered. Wes looked a little bothered though. Just not in a bad way.

"Probably not as sore as mine either," Charlie said, and Kurt didn't have to come out from behind his hands or look at Charlie to know he was smirking. Blaine choked on his breakfast.

"Seriously?" he asked, shock coloring his tone.

"Figured it's only fair." Charlie lifted his head up to smirk at Blaine on that one.

"Wow, you really do love him."

"You _what_ him?" David asked, and Charlie told the whole story to the thoroughly surprised council members.

* * *

><p>"<em>Happy Valentine's Day!<em>" Kurt looked away from his conversation with Blaine to tell the person addressing him that Valentine's Day wasn't for another six days (one hundred and thirty hours to be exact), but the words died in his throat.

It wasn't a Dalton uniform, it wasn't even in the same _league_ as a Dalton uniform. It was a toga. A _pink._ short-sleeved, knee-length toga, with gold borders and designs. And white wings, with a quiver and bow hung over one shoulder. Strappy golden sandals and a golden laurel on his head completed the look. He was holding two red roses and two pink cards in one hand, two purple arrows in the other.

"Kurt," Blaine said, and Kurt could tell from his voice that he was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Meet Cupid."

"Here's a Valentine for you," he said, handing Blaine a rose, a card, and an arrow. "And one for you too," the Cupid said optimistically, handing Kurt the same assortment. "Have a wonderful Valentine's week." Blaine waited until the Cupid was out of earshot to die laughing, almost falling over.

"_How is this funny to you_?" Kurt hissed. Everyone was staring at them and chuckling.

"At... at least he wasn't in his underwear," Blaine managed to get out, but caused himself to start laughing even harder. Kurt sighed, throwing up his hands dramatically and giving up on Blaine. The rose he had been given was real, the arrow cheap plastic, and he started by opening the card, which wasn't a Valentine's Day card at all, but instead one with the design of a winter wonderland on the front and an inside filled with Lucas' chicken scratch.

"It's a thank you note from Lucas, for helping him and Charlie get through their troubles. Aw," Kurt said, and that was the first touching Valentine he had gotten in the horrendous two weeks since Dalton had become pink.

"Mine's probably from Charlie then," Blaine said, picking himself up off the ground. He tossed the arrow in the trash, stuck the stem of the rose in his messenger bag so it was on display, and opened the card. "It says... oh that bastard." Blaine chucked the card in the trash. "Come on, we'll be late for next period."

He was not going to do it. He was _not_ going to pick Blaine's Valentine out of the wasn't tactless, and Blaine was allowed to have his secrets. "Oh, who am I kidding?" he muttered to himself, picking the card out quickly while Blaine still thought Kurt was following him, sticking it in his messenger bag along with his card from Lucas and the arrow. He placed the rose in stem first, as Blaine had, so it wouldn't get crushed.

"Are you coming?" Blaine asked from half-way down the hall, and Kurt rushed to catch up to him. He couldn't shake the feeling that the card in his messenger held the answers to all of the questions he'd had for the past few weeks.

* * *

><p>Kurt turned the envelope over in his hands as he stared at the card on his bed. Blaine's was definitely a Valentine's Day card, and it looked like a cheesy one at that. He hadn't opened it yet. He was torn. On one hand, it was a betrayal of trust, delving into aspects of Blaine's life that Blaine didn't want him involved in. On the other, Blaine had probably lied to him, and all Kurt wanted was the truth.<p>

"Are you not sleeping or something?" Chris asked, looking over at the clock. "Because if you plan to, you should probably start your moisturizing routine now."

"Is it morally wrong to look at someone else's Valentine's?" Kurt asked.

"Well, that wins for weirdest question I've ever been asked," Chris said, not answering. "What's up?" Chris sat on Kurt's bed next to him, picking up the card. "Is this what you're talking about?"

"Yes," Kurt said, "it's Blaine's."

"From?"

"Charlie. Blaine threw it out because Charlie said something on it that annoyed him, and I picked it out of the trash. Whatever's going on with Blaine and Valentine's Day, Charlie knows, and I think this has something to do with it, but I don't want to read it."

"So, you're asking _me_? I'm haven't been at Dalton long enough to deal with how weird this place is. Some guy was running around in a _toga_ today, handing out Valentine's."

"That's who gave Blaine this, and me mine," Kurt said, probably not as surprised as his roommate had hoped about the news of a guy in a toga. "I wonder what motivated him to be Cupid."

"It's Dalton. Do you really think he needs motivation?" Chris asked, and Kurt laughed at that.

"True."

"Want advice on this?" Chris asked, waving the card around, and Kurt nodded. "Open it after Valentine's Day. That was, no matter what it says, it won't poison your relationship with Blaine, and if it has to do with something else entirely, you'll know."

"If I open it after Valentine's Day, it's as pointless as not opening it at all," Kurt said as Chris stuck the card in _his_ bedside table, not Kurt's.

"I know. That's the point. Now go to bed, or you'll have terrible circles under your eyes tomorrow." Kurt didn't need any more motivation than that.

* * *

><p>He was expecting a call from Lucas. He knew it was coming. He had been waiting for it all day yesterday, and he knew Lucas had no Cheerios anymore, so after school he lounged in the winter sunshine, waiting for the call. Dalton was ridiculously picturesque, and he decided he had found a cozy spot in one of the little-used hallways of the upper Dalton building.<p>

Lucas still wasn't calling, and he had taken to doodling. He felt like a twelve-year-old when he had started doodling his and Blaine's name in a heart. At the last moment, he decided to put an arrow through his immature drawing. It seemed fitting.

"Hey," the familiar voice called, and how had Blaine found him? Kurt shut his notebook automatically, sitting up a little and then cursing himself for acting so guilty. "Whatcha doing?" Blaine asked, looking a little amused.

"Nothing," Kurt answered, his voice a little higher than was completely normal. "Just, uh, daydreaming, plotting weekend outfits." Could his excuses be any lamer?

"Well, come on," Blaine said, gesturing to the double door Kurt sat facing with his head. "You're gonna wanna see this. I've called an emergency meeting of the Warblers' Council."

"Sounds serious," Kurt said, getting up and slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"Let's hope not," Blaine replied, grabbing at Kurt's shoulders. "I just need to ask them a tiny little favor." Kurt couldn't help but be excited. A Valentine's Day type favor? But why would Blaine want him there?

"What kind of favor?" he asked as they walked.

"Nothing big. Just a song that's a little... unusual for the Warblers. I'm not sure how well it will go over, but you have my back, right?" Blaine asked, and Kurt could never say no to those eyes.

"Of course."

"We're here," Blaine announced as they walked through the door. He gestured for Kurt to sit down, while he sat down in a chair near the council. "Sorry, I had to go looking for him. He was hiding from me, clearly." Blaine grinned, and a few people laughed along with him.

"This emergency meeting is called to order," Wes announced, banging his gavel, and the room fell silent. "Junior member Blaine Anderson... the floor is yours." Kurt heard a tweet and turned around. Had Chris moved Pav out of their room? Kurt clapped as he stood up, but that obviously wasn't the right move.

"Esteemed council, I'll be brief," Blaine promised. "Simply put..." Blaine froze, looking around, "I'm in love." He stared right at Kurt as he said it.

The general response was '_ooh_'and some laughter. "Congrats," David said, and he was looking at Wes instead of Blaine.

"I'm not.. really good at talking about my feelings. I-I'm much better at singing them. But still, I-I could use a little help." Kurt didn't even care what he was talking about. Blaine kept looking at him. "Which is why I'm asking to enlist the Warblers to help serenade this individual... in song... off-campus."

There was immediate outrage. It seemed like everyone asked "What!?" except for Kurt, who was just confused. Why were they acting like that? And why would Blaine want to serenade him off-campus? "Off campus?" "Are you serious?" "Did I hear you right?" A few questions floated through a mess of grumbles and confusion. The Warblers silenced when Wes banged his gavel a few times.

"I-I know what I'm asking is s-slightly... unusual," Blaine said over the remaining din.

"The Warblers haven't performed in an informal setting since 1927, when the _Spirit of St. Louis _overshot the tarmac and plowed through seven Warblers during an impromptu rendition of _Welcome to Ohio, Lucky Lindy_." Wes looked sad during his little impromptu speech. That was just a flat out lie. They had performed _I'm a Believer_ just last week at Gerigno's. Was Wes really lying to a room full of people that knew that wasn't true for the sake of appearances and tradition?

"Why would we even consider what you're asking?" Apparently, all of them were willing to lie. The Warblers were weirder than Kurt had originally thought... and that was saying something.

"I-I firmly believe that our reticence to perform in public nearly cost us a trip to Regionals. We're becoming privileged, porcelain birds perched on a..." The room broke out in noise, so loud Blaine couldn't be heard, the Warblers outraged by an accusation that was kind of true. "... on a gilded shelf," Blaine continued even though he could barely be heard.

"You mock us, sir!" Thad said sharply. Wes had to bang his gavel again to calm the room.

"Thad, David, I will have order," Wes said, waving his gavel around at the Warblers.

"May I please say something?" Kurt asked, raising his hand and willing to have Blaine's back at all costs like he had promised. When the council looked to him, Kurt stood up. "With respect, I believe Blaine has a point." Was he actually getting in the habit of properly addressing the Warbler council? "The Warblers are so concerned with image and tradition that sometimes I feel like we miss out on opportunities to step outside our comfort zones. When I was on New Directions, we performed in front of hostile crowds... pretty much anywhere we went." Blaine did not look impressed. Kurt kind of wanted to smack him. He was _supporting_ him! Even though he didn't understand what he was doing. "I mean, mattress stores, shopping malls. I had a cat thrown at me in a nursing home once." Finally, a joke that actually got him even quiet laughter! "But it-it gave us... confidence. It-it kept us loose." Of course, _now_ Blaine was nodding along.

"And where would this performance take place?" Wes asked, which was Kurt's unspoken signal to sit down. Maybe he really was getting the hang of this.

"The Gap at the North Hills Mall," Blaine replied. Excuse him, Blaine say _what_? "I'd like to call it 'The Warblers' Gap Attack.'" Of course, people _always_ laughed at Blaine's jokes.

"Why the Gap?" Please say he has a real reason. _Please_.

"The guy that I like is a junior manager," Blaine replied, and Kurt's whole world fell apart around him as Wes banged his gavel. "All right, well, all those in favor?" Wes asked in the distance, but Kurt didn't bother to raise his hand. He was staring at Blaine uncomprehendingly. "Excellent. We will begin rehearsing tomorrow."

"Oh, Wes, I wanted to talk to you about..." It was good Blaine continued talking to the council, because if he had come over to talk to Kurt, the countertenor probably would have burst out in tears right there in the practice room, in front of the entire club. As it was, he barely got to his room and onto his bed, curling into a ball facing the wall, before he broke down.

"There, there," Charlie muttered gently, sitting on the end of his bed and rubbing his back

"You knew, didn't you? That it wasn't me. You knew." Kurt wasn't accusing him, but he knew that was what was written on the card. That was the secret. That's where Blaine had been sneaking off to. It even explained why Charlie was there waiting for him. He had known that Kurt would be devastated when Blaine made the announcement, and he obviously knew that moment was today. He explained everything. The junior manager at the Gap at the North Hills Mall... "What's his name?"

"Jeremiah," Charlie said softly. "Blaine's been meeting him for coffee for a few weeks, texting back and forth. I'm sorry, Kurt."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt whispered, and okay, he was blaming Charlie a little.

"I couldn't. How would you have looked Blaine in the eye?"

"How can I _now_?" Kurt sat up just so he could bury his head in Charlie's shoulder. He didn't know the other boy particularly well, but he needed the comfort and Charlie was obviously willing to give it.

"I know he's an idiot, and now he's broken your heart, but please don't give up on him. I promise you that someday he'll come to his senses, and you two will live happily ever after, okay?"

"Yeah, right," he muttered into Charlie's shoulder, vindictively happy that he was getting snot all over one of Charlie's ridiculously expensive blazers. They probably weren't that much to the rich Dalton kids, but it still made Kurt feel a little better.

"You have to believe that," Charlie said, kissing the top of Kurt's head. "Get in your PJs, we'll watch some bad movies, okay?" Kurt nodded and obeyed. When he had finished a quick version of his moisturizing routine and put on his most comfortable pajamas (one of Finn's t-shirts and some flannel pajama pants), he found Chris and Charlie had pushed the bedside tables in front of Chris' closet and pushed the two beds together. They were both waiting there in their PJs, chatting, a stack of DVDs between them.

"You guys are the best," Kurt said with a little laugh, still a bit sniffily.

"Come on," Charlie said, beckoning Kurt closer and pulling him between the two once he got on the bed. "It's time for some tearjerkers that will give you an excuse to cry over my moronic best friend." Kurt chuckled as Charlie kissed his head again.

"And if it makes you feel any better," Chris added, wrapping an arm around him, "we stole them from Blaine's room."

* * *

><p>The first thing Kurt did the next morning was call Mercedes and Rachel party line and inform them that they needed to have a sleep over that night, no questions asked. He didn't even care that it was a school night. Charlie and Chris had been wonderful, but he needed his girls for advice.<p>

The second thing Kurt did was try to pull himself away from the entanglement that he, Charlie, and Chris had ended up in after they had all fallen asleep partway through _A Walk to Remember_, which had been about the fourth movie they had watched. Kurt had used almost an entire box of tissue, and his roommate and Charlie kept cracking jokes in an attempt to make him smile. They really were the best.

After Kurt had struggled for about five minutes, Charlie woke up. He easily un-entangled them, making jokes about how many cuddlers he had slept with that had helped him practice escaping. They were actually kind of crude, but Kurt laughed anyway. He needed to. Charlie mercilessly poured water on Chris' head to wake him up once he and Kurt had gotten showered and dressed (separately, though Charlie had jokingly suggested they do it together), and the three headed down to breakfast.

"Good morning," Blaine said as soon as they got down to the commons, joining them. He was still blinking himself awake, he looked a little tousled, and Kurt's heart clenched every time he so much as glanced at the tenor. He was _so_ screwed.

"Maybe it's a good morning for you," Chris said coldly, and he took Kurt's arm and pulled him towards the breakfast line, separating them from Charlie and Blaine.

"Thanks for that," Kurt said. If Chris could pretend to be the one mad at Blaine, Kurt would have an excuse to avoid him.

"I wasn't acting," Chris said, smiling gently at Kurt. "He's a dick."

"He's just an idiot," Kurt argued as they picked up their breakfasts (Chris' fattening and disgusting, his barely anything. He didn't really feel up to eating).

"What was that?" he heard Blaine asked, and he tried not to focus too much on the conversation that followed.

"What?" Charlie asked innocently as he walked with Blaine to get their breakfasts.

"Does Chris hate me all of the sudden?" Blaine asked, and Charlie just shrugged. He was _excellent_ at playing dumb.

"I don't know."

"Hey, where were you last night?" Blaine asked, and Charlie hadn't thought of a lie to cover that one up. "I came by your room to talk to you, but you weren't there."

"When?" Charlie asked, running through a barrage of excuses and even considering telling Blaine that he had been off cheating on Lucas. That would have to be an extensive lie, though, and he would have to get Lucas involved...

"Around eleven?" Blaine said, and Charlie smiled to himself. Perfect.

"I had night munchies, and _no_, I was not high, I was just hungry. I went to Wes and David's room to get some snacks, making sure to walk very loudly so they would hear me approaching." He grinned, nudging his oblivious best friend.

"Oh, okay. Do you actually know that they're together, or are you just making fun of them?" Blaine asked, practically telling Charlie that they're together.

"I know everything," Charlie lied. In reality, he had just been teasing, but he would make it _so_ much worse now that he knew it was true. So, _so_ much worse.

"That's probably pretty true. You seem to know everything except what I want to know."

"And that is?"

"Why Chris suddenly hates me!"

"Oh, yeah." Charlie paused, as if thinking. "I don't know."

"Great."

* * *

><p>Rachel and Mercedes acted very similarly to the way Charlie and Chris had. The moment he announced, "it's Blaine," they ordered him to get in his pajamas, did so themselves, Rachel put on Vonda Shepard, they ordered pizza, and Rachel started braiding Mercedes hair, inviting him to talk.<p>

He told them the whole story, starting from the moment at the Lima Bean to the Warblers' emergency meeting. He had to stop briefly when the pizza arrived, but he managed to get through it all without getting emotional. He had already told both of them bits and pieces of it, but neither of them had gotten the total effect. "I was absolutely devastated," Kurt admitted. He didn't admit to the night of crying or cuddling with Chris and Charlie. They would undoubtedly misconstrue that.

"Did he ever _actually _say you two were dating?" Rachel asked, and Kurt kind of wanted to smack her. Kurt didn't think they were _dating_, he just hoped that was the next step, and what Blaine had been aiming for on Valentine's Day. But it was Rachel, so he dealt with it. She would always be _special_.

"Well, not in so many words," Kurt said, biting into his pizza.

"Well, did he put the moves on?" Mercedes asked, filing her nails, and under any other circumstances, he would have blushed or reacted, but Dalton was making him remarkably desensitized to things like that.

"No, but we were always singing duets, and he was always smiling at me." The words sounded sillier and sillier as he said them, and his fears were confirmed when Mercedes and Rachel looked at each other and then looked at him. "Oh my God, I made up the whole thing in my head, didn't I?"

"Listen, we've all been there," Mercedes said in her most comforting tone, but it only made him feel worse. Why couldn't he just be happy with comfort from Charlie and Chris again? "At least I have. With _you_."

"I know exactly what you mean," Rachel said, continuing to braid Mercedes' hair. "I mean, i-if Finn thinks that he's just gonna walk out of my life, he's wrong," Rachel finished braiding at turned toward him, and Kurt kind of jolted. How was this anything like his issue? "'cause I'm gonna go up to that kissing booth tomorrow with a one hundred dollar bill and he's not going to be able to make change, and then he's gonna be forced to kiss me one hundred times, and when his lips touch mine, I'm telling you, he's gonna _feel_ it."

"Hey, hey," Mercedes stopped her. "We're supposed to be giving Kurt advice, remember?"

"Yeah," Rachel admitted."

"So, you are going to the Gap Attack, though, right?" Mercedes asked, her and Rachel sitting back to back on the end of the bed as he leaned against Rachel's pillows.

"Should-should I?" he asked.

"Yes!" Mercedes exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel added, playing with some stuffed monkeys.

"Scope out the competition," Mercedes continued. "See what this guy's like. You know, you two are both _so _guy crazy." She had a point, though for Kurt it was a recent development. "Yeah. Look at me. I don't have a date for Valentine's Day, and I could give a rip." She had a point. "The three of us are _divas_. Look at our idols. Whitney, Barbra, Patti LuPone." Respectively. "They all became stars while they were single. They took all the pain and loneliness, and they put it into their music. People could relate to it. Yeah, everybody feels lonely. Harnessing this pain is why they became legends."

"Why has this never occurred to me?" Rachel asked, her face showing the revelation going on in her head.

"Sometimes you have to choose between love and talent. And as far as I'm concerned, we all need to fly solo for a while." Hadn't Mercedes been flying solo?

"It's so nice to be around girls for a change," Kurt admitted. As nice as the comfort had been, his girl had given him a hard, cold dose of reality, and that was exactly what he had needed.

"Ohh," Rachel said. "Here, move over." She climbed up to sit by the pillows with him, handing him one of her monkeys, and Mercedes leaned back to smack at their legs until they made room for her on Rachel's twin bed.

"I would suggest we do this at my house because my bed is bigger, but unfortunately the source of all of Rachel's problems resides at my house," Kurt commented, and Rachel just smiled.

"I'm perfectly comfortable," she said happily, leaning on his shoulder.

"Ditto," Mercedes said.

"Yes, a double bed is much better than sleeping on the crack of two pushed together. Now I know what it felt like to be Lucy and Ricky."

"Wait, what?" Mercedes asked, raising an eyebrow. "What have you boys been getting up to in those dorms of yours?"

"Charlie and my roommate, Chris, took over your guys' roles last night, and we ended up quite like this, just on two beds pushed together," Kurt explained, explaining it in a way that made it absolutely innocent. Mercedes still wolf-whistled. "Oh, come on!"

"So, you had not one, but _two_ hot private school boys in bed with you last night, and you're still not over Blaine?" she asked, twisting it to make it sound dirty.

"One of them is straight!" Kurt argued.

"And the other?" Rachel asked, giggling.

"I changed my mind. I really hate girls."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you drove home from <em>Lima<em> this morning in order to be on time for school," Chris commented at breakfast the next morning. Rachel and Mercedes had been more than happy to wake up super early so they could all eat pancakes together before Kurt had to leave, so Kurt wasn't eating anything, but he had once again taken refuge with Chris instead of sitting with Blaine and Charlie. He wasn't quite ready for that yet, but he was definitely feeling better.

"Some of us actually care about school," Kurt replied as he watched Chris suck down bacon like a vacuum. It was actually pretty disgusting.

"So, is the rumor that the Warblers are doing another impromptu performance true?" Chris asked, and Kurt shrugged.

"I haven't heard anything about that. Maybe people are confusing that with the fact that we're performing off-campus to serenade Blaine's... junior manager," he said sourly.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Kurt shrugged again.

"It's fine," Kurt said honestly. "I'm getting over it. I... Yes, I like him, but I also care about him as a friend, and I do want to be supportive of him. I guess I just need to... get used to the idea." That didn't sound much better, but Kurt was at least trying.

"You're a good friend," Chris said, patting Kurt on the back with one hand and eating with the other.

"Hey, Kurt." Chris groaned under his breath as Blaine approached, but Kurt put on his best smile and gestured for his best friend to continue. "I... can we talk, later? I just have something I wanted to ask you about."

"Of course," Kurt said, having a feeling what Blaine's line of questioning would center around. How was he going to explain this without making it obvious? "After classes?"

"Sounds fine," Blaine said, and he sounded kind of relieved. "Bye, Chris." Chris made a noise that didn't sound particularly friendly.

"You can be nice to him now," Kurt said, smacking Chris' arm once Blaine was out of earshot.

"I don't know," Chris said, grinning. "I think I should keep up the act just a little bit longer, just to make it believable."

"You are having way too much fun with this."

* * *

><p>"<em>You will never believe what happened<em>!" Rachel said as soon as he answered the phone, unlocking his dorm room. He hadn't seen Blaine, but he wasn't avoiding him either.

"At this point, Rachel, I'm ready to believe anything."

"_Puck serenaded Lauren with _Fat Bottomed Girls!" she exclaimed.

"That's _horrible_," Kurt said, but it actually sounded kind of characteristic of Puck. he was like Charlie when it came to love: an absolute moron.

"_Yeah. And Quinn went to Finn's booth, but not to kiss him, just to chat with him. I don't know about what, but whatever happened, Sam and Quinn are arguing now, and Sam keeps glaring at Finn! Do you think something's going on between Finn and Quinn?_" Rachel asked, having given her little speech in one breath and sounding completely distraught.

"It's possible, Rach," he admitted, and Rachel sighed.

"_After what she did to him? After _lying _about Beth's father and planning to _continue _to lie for the rest of their lives?_" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, one of the things we all love about Finn is that he's a genuinely nice guy. He will forgive anyone anything, after a time. Maybe it is time for him to forgive her, even if this isn't the best idea. Just give it time, Rachel. You'll find out." Blaine entered the room and tilted his head, obviously curious as to who he was talking to. Kurt held up a finger.

"_I'm going to his booth on Monday, and when he kisses me, he _will_ feel fireworks!"_ Rachel declared.

"Rachel-" he tried to argue, but she had already hung up. "Drat it, that girl will do something certifiable someday without me there."

"Everything all right?" Blaine asked gently, sitting down on Chris' bed.

"Oh, yes, the New Directions are just deeply entrenched in the drama I had entirely predicted," Kurt said with a sigh. "What did you want to talk to me about?" As if he didn't know.

"Were you avoiding me yesterday?" Blaine asked, and he had plenty of reasons to wonder. Kurt had been avoiding him like the plague.

"Of course not," Kurt lied. "I was just busy, and you were plotting with Wes, and I was spending some time with my roommate."

"Speaking of your roommate, why does he hate me all of a sudden?" Blaine asked, and Kurt had a perfectly planned explanation for that one. Chris had helped him come up with it.

"Apparently, you did something to spite his girlfriend a long time ago, and she holds grudges, and they're at that stage in their relationship now where they're a joint entity that shares the same brain. Just ignore him," Kurt said, waving the issue off with an actor's ease.

"All right, one more thing. Why didn't you raise your hand in favor of me serenading Jeremiah? Wes put you down as a 'no'." Blaine sounded legitimately hurt, and somehow that made this all easier. Blaine really liked Jeremiah. Kurt could be a supportive friend, because he wanted Blaine to be happy, even at the sake of his own happiness. Crap, he was so screwed.

"Really?" Kurt asked, feigning surprise. "I thought my vote was implied based on my little speech."

"Huh, I guess it kind of should have been, huh?" Blaine said with a laugh. "All right. Want to do some physics homework?"

"Sure," Kurt agreed. Realistically, his excuses had been flimsy, and Blaine had accepted them way too easily, but they were both willing to look past the incident to remain friends. They were _best_ friends, no matter what. Even if it still killed Kurt to be in the same room as him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow, this chapter turned into a bear before I realized it. Sorry so many sections are weirdly short though. It's 2:30 in the morning here, and segues are not my best at this hour. This update time wasn't too awful, but I've devoted this entire four-day-weekend to writing, so hopefully the next one will be a lot sooner. Thanks for the patience, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the conclusion of Charcas (Charlie/Lucas, because four sites on the Internet insisted) drama. Valentine's Day, and the remainder of Silly Love Songs will be the next chapter.**

**Songs used/mentioned:**

'_No One Mourns the Wicked_' from _Wicked _(mentioned)  
>'<em>Paint it Black<em>' by the Rolling Stones (mentioned)  
>'<em>Welcome to Ohio, Lucky Lindy<em>' (which I don't think is a real song) (mentioned)  
>'<em>Fat Bottomed Girls<em>' by Queen (mentioned)

**Review are Love.**


	23. Valentine's Disasters

**A/N: This chapter came with some issues. According to Glee, Valentine's Day goes on for several days and nights, considering Santana says it's Valentine's Day the day she gets mono and Blaine specifically says he's serenading Jeremiah on Valentine's Day, then there's a night, and then it's Valentine's Day again for the Lonely Hearts Club dinner, so I did the best I could to make sense out of Glee's frazzled time line, and I am very sorry if it confuses you. It confuses me too. Read on.**

* * *

><p>"Happy Valentine's Day!" Kurt said at breakfast Monday morning, trying his best to be cheerful. He had spent almost the entire weekend chatting with a very love-struck Chris and doing homework, and during his break from Blaine he had fully resolved to be as supportive as he could about Blaine's plans.<p>

"I'm so nervous," Blaine admitted, and it was the first day in the history of Kurt's time at Dalton that Blaine had less food on his tray than Kurt did.

"What's to be nervous about?" Kurt asked, doing his best to smile and be comforting. It wasn't quite as difficult as he had thought it would be, because Blaine's words had brought up something he hadn't thought of yet. This serenade could go _wrong_. "If you really... love him," okay, that had hurt, "I'm sure he likes you in return."

"_If_ I really love him?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Chill out, Blainers," Charlie said, plopping between the two of them and shoveling some of his food onto Blaine's plate. "And eat something. All Kurtsie meant is you've only known this guy for a couple of weeks. I love you dearly, but you're a fucking idiot, and you wear your heart on your sleeve and fall head-over-heels _way_ too quickly. So chill and eat your damn breakfast."

"Happy Valentine's Day to you too," Blaine said sarcastically, but he started to nibble at the pancakes Charlie had put on his plate. "Do you have plans with Lucas?"

"No, Lucas and I celebrated Desperation Day."

"I know you stole that from How I Met Your Mother," Kurt said, and Charlie sighed.

"Why must you ruin my fun? Anyway, we did. We got together yesterday and made fun of all the stupid, lonely idiots who think Valentine's Day is important. It was fun. And we had sex. _Lots_ of sex."

"Gee, that wasn't obvious," Blaine said sarcastically, stealing some of Charlie's bacon. For once, Charlie didn't mind.

"Just thought I'd mention it. You do know I'm crashing your Gap Attack, yes?" Charlie asked, and he definitely wasn't asking for permission. "I have to meet the guy who has made you fall so ridiculously hard that you've become a complete moron. I thought that was my job."

"That is your job," Blaine replied. "And I'm allowed to be nervous! I'm putting myself on the line."

"I know you are, and I will be there to support you. And possibly mock you. But mostly support you." Charlie's tone brooked no argument, and Blaine gave in.

"Fine, you can be there. Just go talk to Wes, they're apparently planning some sort of choreography for the rest of the Warblers. He figured I would be too nervous to remember it, God bless him, and I'm just doing my own thing, but both of you should go see him." Blaine was finally eating normally, and Charlie reached below the table to squeeze Kurt's knee, a silent little gesture of comfort. Charlie really was awesome.

* * *

><p>Kurt wasn't entirely sure how Blaine had convinced Headmaster Fournier to let all of the Warblers leave their classes after lunch, but he had managed it, and they were headed on a bus for the North Hills Mall just in time to arrive in the middle of Jeremiah's shift. Blaine had eaten a normal breakfast, but had acted nervous for the rest of the day, bouncing and fidgeting more than normal, holding Kurt's hand throughout Religion (not that he had minded), and constantly asking for reassurances from the Warblers, who were getting annoyed rather quickly.<p>

"How do you think he'll react?" Why had Kurt elected to sit next to Blaine on the bus again? Oh right, because they were best friends, but to be entirely honest, Blaine was even beginning to annoy him. And not just because Kurt liked him. Anyone would have been annoyed. He should have sat next to Charlie.

"I don't know," Kurt said, trying to remain positive. "He'll probably be flattered, a little embarrassed, happy? It's anyone's guess, Blaine."

"Am I annoying you?" _Yes_!

"No, of course not, I'm just tired," Kurt lied, and Blaine smiled at him gently.

"Sorry," he apologized uselessly. "You can take a little nap if you want, we're a little ways away."

"The seat isn't very comfortable," and he wasn't really tired, but that was beside the point.

"_I_ make an _excellent_ pillow," Blaine said, wrapping an arm around Kurt and inviting him to rest his head on the tenor's shoulder. Shoot, now Blaine was acting like a sweetheart again. Why did he have to make this worse?

Kurt shrugged his shoulders, trying gently to shrug Blaine's arm off, and thankfully Blaine got the hint. "I'm fine."

"Okay." Blaine didn't sound like he believed it, but he let it go. They sat in silence for the rest of the ride to Polaris ("North Hills").

When they got there, Wes insisted they all act like they're shopping (because a bunch of school-age boys in uniform shopping mid-day doesn't look suspicious at all), putting them in pairs around the store. Kurt was, of course, with Blaine, and Blaine pretended to browse some hideous brown coat as they waited for the cue.

"That's him," Blaine said, looking up from the coats. "The blonde one folding sweaters."

"Hmm," was all Kurt could bring himself to say as he held a not-exactly-hideous gray sweater against himself for the ruse. The guy Blaine was staring at was worse than the coat. Dirty blond hair (dirty in both ways, it seemed), which was curly and completely untamed, dull blue eyes, and a brown sweater with awkwardly placed buttons with a tan button-up underneath. Kurt definitely couldn't see the appeal, but he was being a supportive friend, so he tried. "I can see the appeal. That's quite a head of hair."

"His name is Jeremiah." As if Kurt didn't know that already. "If he and I got married, the Gap would give me a fifty percent discount." Kurt stared at his best friend like he was deranged for two reasons: one, Ohio didn't allow or recognize gay marriages, and two, _he was already talking about marrying this dirty, unattractive hippy!?_ "This is insane. I don't know what I'm doing. We haven't even really gone out on a date. We-we shouldn't do this. This is crazy." They were the first true words Blaine had said all day, and he finally abandoned the ugly jacket as he did, preparing to leave the store. Kurt grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him.

"Okay, come on, come on. Man up," Kurt said, walking him towards Jeremiah, his hands still resting on the tenor's shoulders. "You're amazing." Blaine sighed as Wes gave the signal. "He's gonna love you," Kurt promised, walking away as Blaine nodded to Wes.

The Warblers started in on their accompaniment as Blaine strolled casually towards Jeremiah, playing a lot cooler than he was actually feeling.

_Vum vum vum vum  
>Vum vum vum vum<br>Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh_

Jeremiah was walking away with his sweaters, as if he either didn't realize Blaine was chasing and serenading him, or he didn't care. Kurt took the moment to notice the store and it's lack of Valentine's decorations. Good people.

_Baby girl, where you at?  
>Got no strings, got men attached<br>Can't stop that feelin' for long no  
>Mmmm<br>You makin' dogs wanna beg  
>Breaking them off your fancy legs<br>But they make you feel right at home, now_

Once Blaine broke out into song and Jeremiah realized it was for him, he looked kind of horrified and unbelieving. There were Warblers popping out from the scenery, and he appeared to be getting some very clear messages in the earpiece he was wearing. He ended up behind the counter, with Blaine walking alongside him on the other side (followed by several Warblers) as he began the first hook to the chorus.

_See all these illusions just take us too long  
>And I want it bad...<br>Because you walk pretty,  
>Because you talk pretty,<br>'Cause you make me sick  
>And I'm not leavin', till you're leavin'<em>

The other employees and customers were equally as disbelieving. Blaine was practically stalking Jeremiah, singing, as he walked around trying to do his job. For a moment, Kurt almost felt bad for the poor bastard.

_Oh I swear there's something when she's pumpin',  
>Asking for a raise<br>Well does she want me to carry her home now?  
>So does she want me to buy her things?<br>On my house, on my job  
>On my loot, shoes, my shirt,<br>My crew, my mind, my father's last name?_

Under no circumstances would he ever describe the Warblers as a 'crew', but Blaine looked absolutely adorable in the pink sunglasses he had put on. How was Jeremiah not melting right now? Blaine needed to change the genders, but still. At least the customers looked kind of into the song, probably thinking it was something staged for Valentine's Day. Not very _romantic_, but...

_When I get you alone  
>When I get you, you'll know, babe<br>When I get you alone  
>When I get you alone<em>

_Come on  
>Oh yeah, yeah<em>

Jeremiah was facing Blaine (and the rest of Blaine's small posse, which included Jeff, David, and Nick) for the chorus, but once Blaine had finished, he turned away, going back towards the registers with the same disbelieving face. The number was good, if a little inappropriate, but Kurt had a feeling this serenade wasn't going too well.

_Baby girl you the shh!  
>That makes you my equivalent<br>Well you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight,  
>All right<br>All my dogs talkin' fast-  
>Ain't you got some photographs?<br>'Cause you shook that room like a star, now  
>Yes, you did, yes, you did<em>

Jeremiah continued to look horrified as Blaine jumped around on the Gap's displays (which the Gap probably didn't like very much, but no one would be able to cure Blaine of his habit of jumping on furniture while he was performing), and Kurt had a feeling whatever he was hearing from his earpiece was getting less and less pleasant the more Blaine talked about... toys. They really couldn't have left that line out?

_All these intrusions just take us too long  
>And I want you so bad...<br>Because you walk steady,  
>Because you talk steady,<br>'Cause you make me sick  
>And I'm not leavin', till you're leavin'<em>

For this hook the Warblers converged in front of the cash registers, Blaine in the middle of a wide circle. Kurt hung out at the edge, not exactly following the choreography, but he had a feeling Wes understood.

_So I pray to something she ain't bluffin',  
>Rubbin' up on me<br>Well does she want me to make a vow?  
>Check it<br>Well does she want me to make it now?  
>On my house, on my job<br>On my loot, shoes, my voice,  
>My crew, my mind, my father's last name?<em>

The Warblers had commandeered a display table, and David even did a back flip off of it. Ignoring basic safety concerns, there was no way the Gap was going to be happy with this, no matter how entertained their customers looked. Blaine hopped up on the table as he sang, Warblers sitting in a line in front of him and some getting up on shorter tables behind him.

_When I get you alone  
>When I get you, you'll know, baby<br>When I get you alone  
>When I get you alone<em>

Blaine hopped off the table and ran off to the side, the Warblers going with him, making up choreography on the spot at that point. Kurt stood to the side, near some of the braver customers, and pouted. A little bit.

_Oh, oh, when I get you alone_

Blaine grabbed some socks off a display and slid on his knees to the cash registers on the last note. He spun, smiled, and casually held the socks up at Jeremiah's register like he was purchasing them. The customers were applauding behind him. Jeremiah looked around the store, and his face went completely blank.

"That will be eight dollars and four cents," he said, ringing up the hideous socks, and Blaine paid. Jeremiah leaned forward as he handed the socks back to Blaine, and Kurt couldn't tell what he whispered, but Blaine smiled and accepted his socks, putting them in his pocket. He didn't have to worry about it looking like he smuggled them. It was possibly the most public sale in Gap history. Blaine turned and gestured for the Warblers to leave, and Jeremiah looked to the left nervously. Kurt followed his gaze, and saw a very unimpressed manager standing there. Uh-oh.

"How about we head for coffee?" Wes asked, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere. "There's a Starbucks up a few stores." Everyone kind of nodded and agreed without caring, a few people patting Blaine's back or arm as they headed for the Starbucks. "Just everyone stay away from the Chick-fil-A. No antagonizing the employees!" Kurt heard Wes call from farther away, to laughter.

"You'll stay?" Blaine asked him, as if there was a question of him leaving.

"Of course. I don't even like Starbucks," he lied, sitting on the bench labeled 'The Meeting Place' by the signs. Polaris Fashion Place (which Blaine called the North Hills Mall simply because of it's location) was one of the better malls near Columbus, even having a Saks, and Kurt felt like he was missing out on a valuable shopping opportunity. Blaine sat next to him, clenching his hands in his lap to keep warm. He sat close to Kurt despite the large bench, which was occupied only by one of the Warblers' Gap bags (who had been shopping there?).

"Was it too much?" he asked after several awkwardly silent minutes, and a look was all the reply he needed. "It was too much," Blaine said.

Kurt had something very sassy to say, but it died in his throat as Jeremiah walked heavily out of the Gap, seeming tired and upset to any casual observer. Blaine stood up and took some hesitant steps forward. "Jeremiah," he called out to the unhappy looking blond. "Hey." Jeremiah didn't respond except to put his hood up on his sweater (a hooded sweater? Really?).

"What the hell were you doing?"

"What?" Blaine asked, oblivious to how not-pleased Jeremiah seemed.

"I just got fired." Blaine's face fell slowly. "You can't just bust a groove in the middle of somebody else's workplace." He was very condescending. Why did Blaine like him?

"But they loved it," Blaine said, confused, but smiling again.

"Well, my boss didn't," Jeremiah said, and he didn't even seem angry. He just seemed... bleak. Totally bleak. "Neither did I." Blaine's face had fallen again. That one had to hurt. "No one here knows I'm gay." Oh, yeah right.

"Can I be honest?" Kurt asked, interrupting what probably would have been a very private, serious conversation had he not been sitting right there. "Just, with the hair? I think they do." Jeremiah looked over at him briefly, but didn't seem to care that he was there.

"Blaine, let's just be clear here. You and I got coffee twice." It sounded like more than twice. "We're not dating." Ouch. Blaine seemed torn between shaking his head and nodding, muttering something vaguely like 'yeah' and jerking his head spastically. "If we were, I'd get arrested, 'cause you're underage." Well, he didn't see that one coming. Jeremiah was patting Blaine's arm, but Blaine didn't seem very comforted.

Jeremiah just walked away without saying anything else, pulling his coat tight around his frame, and Blaine seemed at a complete loss. Kurt would have felt bad, except he was kind of leaping for joy on the inside. He smiled kind of ruefully when Blaine looked to him as if for an explanation, but some traitorous part of himself was happy that Blaine was still available.

"I don't..." Blaine said, still sounding lost, so Kurt stood and hugged him.

"Come on. I think you need some coffee." Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulder and lead him to where the rest of the Warblers were. "We don't have to tell them."

"Thank you," Blaine said, looking at his feet rather than looking at Kurt. The countertenor was starting to feel bad that he was glad Blaine was heartbroken.

"It'll be okay, Blaine," he said, and Blaine looked at him with a tiny smile.

"I know. It just... sucks," he admitted with a sigh, leaning heavily on Kurt. "Putting yourself out there on Valentine's Day suddenly doesn't sound as romantic when you just had your heart stomped on by someone you really liked."

"See, this is why I hate the holiday," Kurt said, and it wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough.

"I think I'm starting to agree with you."

* * *

><p>The Warblers arrived back at Dalton in time for last period, and Blaine's gloomy mood seemed to be affecting the whole school. The only one Blaine had allowed Kurt to tell the whole story to was Charlie, who frowned and kissed Blaine on the cheek. The crazy boy was doing his best to cheer Blaine up, but nothing seemed to be working. Blaine was angry and hurt, tearing down Valentine's Day decorations and cursing the stupid holiday under his breath. Jeremiah had really hurt him.<p>

"I don't really think you need more coffee, because you've found a way to be energetic and gloomy at the same time, but I do think we need to talk, and we do that best at the Lima Bean, come on," Kurt goaded Blaine once they got out of last period, and Blaine came with him with little argument. Anger seemed to have given away to hurt, and Blaine scoffed at every song remotely related to love on their trip there, which was the majority of them. After all, it was Valentine's Day.

'_You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine; just own the night like the 4__th__ of July_,' Kurt's phone rang out as they drove, and Kurt gestured for Blaine to answer it.

"_You'll never believe what happened!_" Rachel practically shrieked as soon as Blaine hit 'accept'.

"Hello, Rachel," Kurt said, not entirely surprised by how Rachel was acting. Blaine looked spooked. Poor thing, the last person he needed to deal with was an agitated Rachel.

"_Oh, by the way, how did the Gap thing go? Did you meet-_"

"Hi, Rachel," Blaine said rather sullenly, which wasn't intended to cut Rachel off but worked quite effectively.

"_Oh, hi, B-Blaine, sweetie, um... are you okay?_" Rachel asked, taking that soft tone she used when she was trying to be sympathetic but still stuttering a little.

"Didn't you have something you wanted to tell Kurt?" Blaine asked, and thankfully Rachel took the hint.

"_Oh, my G-d, yes! I went to Finn's booth today and he gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then when I tried to argue, he pulled me aside and gave me a really sweet speech and gave me a gold star necklace in a Christmas box, and I think I should try to get over him_."

"That's great-" Kurt tried to get a word in.

"_In other news, Santana and Lauren had a fight... like a _physical_ fight in the hallway, and Santana was wearing a candy striper outfit earlier, and then she went to Finn's booth, and Mike and Artie sang and danced to _Pretty Young Thing,_ and Lauren agreed to go out with Puck, and I definitely think something's happening between Quinn and Finn, and I can't wait to see what happens in Glee tomorrow."_

"Shouldn't you be at Glee?" Kurt asked once Rachel had finished her rant (which sadly only took her one breath). "Like, right now?"

"_We don't have Glee today. We have Glee tomorrow. I just said that._"

"I apologize, Rachel, but I'm a little bit busy right now. Can I call you later?" he asked as they parked at the Lima Bean.

"_All right. Goodbye, love._"

"Goodbye, love," Kurt responded, and Blaine hung up on Rachel.

"Wow, you weren't kidding about the drama."

"Not even a little bit."

* * *

><p>They were standing in line again, just as they had been about two weeks ago when Blaine first had the idea for the serenade, but now Blaine was the one scoffing at the Valentine's Day decorations, and Kurt was the optimistic one. Blaine scoffed at the heart mugs. "Don't they have anything here this isn't covered with stupid, little hearts?" he asked. "Gross."<p>

"Well, you've certainly changed your tune," Kurt said gently as they waited. He couldn't be angry with Blaine, considering how upset he was, but he was getting a little annoyed. How well did he expect a song involving sex toys to go over?

"I don't think I've ever made that big a fool of myself," he said, still sounding angry, "which is really saying something, because I've performed at theme parks." Under any other circumstances, Kurt would have laughed at that and demanded the story, but now didn't seem like the time. Blaine sighed, clearly letting go of some of his anger. "I just... I can't believe I made it all up in my head." Oh the irony. As Blaine was making up a relationship in his head with an idiotic, overage, not-very-attractive junior manager, Kurt was making up a relationship in his head with Blaine... or was he? Blaine had been acting... different, and maybe it was the fact he was pursuing someone, or maybe it was something else entirely, and Kurt would never know unless he asked. Valentine's Day was a time to put one's heart on the line, after all.

"Okay, can I ask you something?" Kurt said, turning Blaine's rant into an actual conversation and thanking Rachel that he hadn't had to listen to this particular line of thinking all the way to the Lima Bean. Blaine looked at him, still upset, but Kurt decided to take that as a 'yes'. "Because we've always been completely honest with each other." Most of the time. "You and I... we hang out, we sing flirty duets together, you know my coffee order." Blaine was looking increasingly confused, and a bit nervous. "Was I supposed to think that that was nothing?"

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked.

Time for the truth, and this was going to go as poorly as _When I Get You Alone_, Kurt just knew it. "I thought the guy that you wanted to ask out on Valentine's Day... was me." The longest silence of Kurt's life followed that statement. Blaine looked completely thrown, and kept opening and closing his mouth as though he didn't know what to say.

"Oh wow," he settled on finally. "I really am clueless." Kurt wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he decided to let Blaine talk, having nothing more to say. "Look, Kurt..." oh boy, "I don't know what I'm doing. I pretend like I do... and I know how to act it out in song," or so he thought, "but the truth is... I've never really been anyone's boyfriend." That he knew.

"Me neither," he said with a smile. Couldn't they figure things out together?

"Let me be really clear about something. I really, _really_ care about you." Nothing good could begin as such. "But as you and about twenty mortified shoppers saw, I'm not very good at romance. I don't want to screw this up." This was a rejection. A gentle rejection, but a rejection none the less, and Kurt's heart felt heavy.

"So, it's just like When Harry Met Sally... but I get to play Meg Ryan," he teased, trying to ignore his inner turmoil. He had poured his heart out like Blaine had, and his rejection had been gentler, but equally as crushing. Where do they go from here?

"Deal," Blaine said, smiling a little. "Don't they, uh, get together in the end?" Thank anything-above that they had finally reached the cash register. He didn't have to answer that.

"Could I get a nonfat mocha, and a medium drip for my friend Billy Crystal?" Kurt said, teasing Blaine a little and ignoring the odd look he was getting from the young barista, who probably didn't know who Billy Crystal was.

"Ah, you know my coffee order," Blaine teased back, and Kurt realized something. They could continue just as they had in the past, the only difference was that everything was out in the open. They could be lonely together, regardless of Kurt's feelings.

"You know what?" Kurt said, an idea occurring to him. "I think I've got something for us to do for Valentine's Day." Blaine smiled, but didn't ask. "First, you have to tell me about performing at a theme park."

"No!" Blaine declared, and Kurt giggled as they moved aside to wait for their coffees. "Under no circumstances are we talking about my past embarrassments. Today has been awful enough."

"True, but I enjoy theme parks," Kurt said, and Blaine raised an eyebrow at him.

"You do?" he asked, suspicious.

"Well, I did when I was _five_," Kurt teased, and Blaine groaned.

"I never should have told you that."

"You really shouldn't have," Kurt agreed. "Wait until Charlie finds out."

"Oh God," Blaine said, his expression almost as horrified as his voice, and Kurt burst out laughing, despite the looks he was getting from the rest of the cafe.

"He's going to have a field day once he knows that you used to perform at theme parks. Did you have to wear a costume?" Kurt teased.

"Shut up," was all Blaine said in reply, but that was enough.

"What was your costume?"

"I will injure you."

"Oh, come on. Okay, I'll guess. Was it a dancing bear?"

"No."

"Was it a Disney character?"

"No!"

"Was it some sort of leprechaun?"

"How are you coming up with these?"

"Were you Frodo?"

"I hate you."

* * *

><p>Blaine knocked on Charlie's door. He always knocked, even if his best friend didn't believe in the courtesy. "Charlie?" he asked once he had been knocking for a few minutes.<p>

"I'm busy."

"Charlie, open the door," he demanded.

"I have this thing called homework, and you are interrupting me trying to do it."

"Charlie!"

"Go _away_!"

Blaine sighed. "I'm here to tell you that you were right." He took a step back and the door flew open.

"Right about what?" Charlie asked, homework abandoned judging by the pile of books, paper, and... various other objects that he couldn't identify on the floor.

"Kurt. Kurt and me. Everything," he admitted with a sigh, and surprisingly, Charlie's expression softened.

"Come in." Charlie stepped back, Blaine sitting on the bed intended for the roommates that Charlie always managed to get rid of and Charlie kicking the pile on his floor under his bed. "What happened?"

"We were at the Lima Bean this afternoon, I was talking about... what happened." He was more focused on the latter part of Valentine's Day than the former, but his crushing rejection had still hurt.

"Go on," Charlie prompted unnecessarily.

"And Kurt told me... that he liked me. Or... _likes_ me, I guess. Sort of."

"That is the vaguest and most frustrating sentence you have ever uttered and I will throttle you unless you clear it up within the next four seconds." Blaine ignored the threat.

"Kurt told me that he thought I was going to ask him out today." Charlie seemed completely unsurprised.

"I know," he said eventually. "Kurt was _hoping_ you were going to ask him out."

"You knew that and you didn't tell me?" Blaine asked, getting a little angry with his best friend, who ignored him as usual, staying remarkably calm.

"I know plenty of things I haven't told you," Charlie remarked. "And I couldn't tell you. Believe it or not, Kurt is also my friend, and I wouldn't betray his confidences. He has liked you since the day the two of you met, just like you've liked him, and that's why I frequently call both of you idiots."

"I..." Kurt had liked him that long, and he had never known. "I'm confused."

"So am I. The real question here," he continued before Blaine got a chance to ask any questions, "is why you're in here telling me that I'm right rather than in Kurt's room, making out with your hot new boyfriend." Charlie was staring him down.

"Because Kurt's not my new boyfriend," he answered, and Charlie flipped out on him before he could even begin to explain.

"Why the _hell_ not?" he yelled. "He's _perfect_ for you! You like him! He likes you! It's Valentine's Day! Do I have to lock you two in a closet until you're dating or something? Because I will! What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?" Charlie slumped back dramatically onto his bed, not reacting as he banged his head off of the wall.

"Are you done?" Blaine asked, and when Charlie declined to say anything else, he began to explain, trying to make sense of it himself. "Charlie, you know I care about Kurt. And of course I like him. I would be an idiot not to."

"At least you can finally admit that," Charlie muttered. Blaine ignored him.

"Charlie, I'm an idiot," he announced, and surprisingly, Charlie didn't say anything. "I have no idea what I'm doing, especially when it comes to guys, and I can't even imagine what my life would be like if I messed things up with Kurt and he wasn't a part of my life anymore. I can't risk that."

"You really are an idiot. Kurt's worth it. Kurt is worth _anything_," Charlie stressed, but Blaine wasn't about to take the advice of someone who was dealing with actual feelings for the first time in his life.

"I don't know, Charlie, and I don't have to decide now," he said, and Charlie sighed.

"Fine. You will rue the day that Kurt decides you're no longer worth chasing and finds someone who will actually appreciate him-"

"I do appreciate him!"

"And isn't too afraid to fall in love with him," Charlie finished, ignoring Blaine's interruption.

"I'm not afraid to fall in love with him," Blaine corrected, "I'm afraid to lose him."

"That might happen anyway, the way this is going. You're lucky that Kurt cares enough about you to put up with all your bullshit, because he could do better, Anderson, and you know that."

"Charlie, that's not fair." Charlie didn't reply. "Charlie." Nothing. "Seriously? Is this your childish way of saying conversation over?" Charlie pointed towards the door. "You're so juvenile." Not a single word.

* * *

><p>Blaine was surprised by how normal things had been. No one brought up his disastrous serenade, for which he was thankful, not even Charlie. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that Charlie had been refusing to talk to him since yesterday, but in some ways it was kind of a nice break from the constant sarcasm and vulgarity.<p>

Things between him and Kurt were pretty normal too, Kurt acting as though nothing had happened, and him trying not to dwell too much on Kurt's feelings or what Charlie had said to him. He was mildly fearful, however, that Charlie would follow through on his threat of locking them in a closet together. It would be characteristic of him.

By Warblers practice, Blaine was convinced that things between Kurt and he could work out if they just ignored Kurt's feelings for now. He still had no idea what to do about Kurt and the potential of them having a relationship, but he was determined not to worry about it for the time being.

"This meeting is called to order," Wes declared, banging his gavel. Oddly enough, he was sitting to the left of the desk, rather than in the middle, with Thad between him and David. Whatever was happening between them clearly wasn't over. "To begin, we usually run through the minutes of the previous meeting. However, today we have an announcement and a new concept to discuss, as well as to practice a number that may be a contender for Regionals and plan the next impromptu performance, which will take place sometime next week. First, the announcement. Sophomore Warbler Nick, sophomore Warbler Jeff." For some ridiculous reason, Kurt had assumed that Nick and Jeff were juniors. Huh. They were treated like juniors, and spent time with the juniors. He wondered if there was a story there.

"This is absolutely ridiculous." The words were obviously intended to be a whisper, but the Warblers were totally formal during practice and the words were audible in the silence. Nick didn't seem to care.

"Oh, relax, it'll be fun," Jeff replied in a normal volume.

"So you think," Charlie muttered, also audibly.

"Charlie, behave," Blaine decided to speak up.

"Order!" Wes barked out, unnecessarily loudly.

"David, help your boyfriend untwist his panties," Charlie said, obviously having no fear of Wes and his gavel.

"Well, this is going well," Nick said sarcastically, and Jeff rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around his not-secret-at-all boyfriend.

"I felt," he said loudly, over some of the snickering left from Charlie's comments, "that we should make an official announcement."

"You're finally admitting that you're screwing?" Charlie asked, his eyes going wide. "Hallelujah! Intervention is our savior!" Charlie fell off the couch into a dramatic bow as if to royalty, and Jeff ignored him with surprising grace.

"Nick and I have been together since November of our freshman year," Jeff continued.

"Which leaves the question of why you were in the closet in the first place," Charlie added, nose still against the carpet.

"Well, Charlie, you will be proud to know that you played a part in that," Nick replied. "Since you are all so _irritating_ about any sort of relationship in the Warblers, we decided our chances would be better if you guys couldn't interfere, and it became habit."

"But we love each other," Jeff said with a goofy smile, "and we're very happy together."

"I have to agree with Nick," Charlie said, ignoring the exclamations of 'aw' that followed Jeff's sappy statement. "This was completely unnecessary. We all know that you're screwing."

"We're doing more than screwing, Charlie," Nick snapped at him, and Charlie sat up from his bow to raise an eyebrow at Nick.

"Well now you're just getting cranky. Jeff, calm your boy-toy."

"Charlie, you know what being in love is like now. Why can't you just let us have our moment?" Jeff asked with a sigh, pressing a kiss to Nick's cheek to calm him down.

"Well-"

"Charlie, enough," Blaine called Charlie off, because yes, Charlie could be funny, but he was getting a little out of control with this one.

"Fine, fine."

"So a late happy Valentine's Day to everyone," Jeff finished, before grabbing and kissing his boyfriend hard in front of the entirety of the Warblers to much whistling and cheering.

"Order, order!" Wes said, banging his gavel. "Jeff, Nick, that's quite enough." Jeff and Nick sat down, Warblers hugging them, patting them on the back, or offering them fist bumps as they did. It was sweet, how much they cared about each other, Nick's arm automatically wrapping around Jeff's shoulders as they sat down. "Second order of business, our new concepts of informal performances. All in favor?" Wes asked, and it surprisingly wasn't very many people.

"Permission to speak?" Kurt asked, patting Blaine on the knee as he did. Wes nodded and Kurt stood. "Perhaps the serenade wasn't the best idea," Blaine and Kurt both ignored the pitying looks Blaine was getting, "but that shouldn't discourage us from informal performances. Not only are they good practice, but they encourage a sense of community among the Warblers. Ignoring the end result, who would say that performing _When I Get You Alone_ was fun?" Blaine was the first to raise his hand, and once he did almost everyone else followed. "Exactly. And I am requesting another performance which I guarantee won't end badly."

"Propose," Wes said shortly.

"Most of the Warblers are single," Kurt began, and what was Kurt talking about? "And while Valentine's Day is enjoyable for the select few, most breathe a sigh of relief when February fifteenth comes along. For those people, there is a Lonely Hearts Club, which is having a dinner party tonight at BreadstiX in Lima. Blaine and I are attending," he said, looking to Blaine, who nodded, figuring that the dinner was what Kurt had been referring to at the Lima Been, "and the organizer of the dinner would like the Warblers to perform."

"Did you have a song in mind?" David asked, the first time he had spoke. Thad looked so uncomfortable in the middle of them.

"I was thinking something classic. _Silly Love Songs_ by Paul McCartney," the Warblers were nodding and voicing their agreement, but Wes didn't look particularly pleased.

"All in favor?" he asked, and he still didn't look happy when most of the Warblers raised their hands, Kurt and Blaine included. "Approved," he declared, banging his gavel. "Our next impromptu performance will take place next week, the rehearsal will take place at practice on Tuesday, and the performance will take place on Wednesday." Did Wes know what impromptu meant? "Song suggestions?" Wes asked.

"_Wonderwall_ by Oasis," Nick said immediately, and Jeff was quick to second it.

"Nick, you say that every time, and every time I tell you the same thing, it's too slow to make a good impromptu performance song," Wes said with a sigh.

"I think it's a good idea, Wes," David argued, and Wes glared at him.

"Too slow," Thad said, the deciding vote. "Usually popular music works better."

"_Dynamite_, Taio Cruz," Kendricke suggested.

"Noted."

"_We'll_ _Be a Dream_," Trent suggested, but Wes shook his head.

"Too slow again, plus it's a duet." Wes didn't list why that was a problem.

"_Love Like Woe_," Oliver suggested.

"Noted, but we're getting nowhere," Wes said, sighing. "Junior Warbler Kurt Hummel."

"Yes?" Kurt asked, and then remembered his manners. "Sir?"

"You were an audience member for our last impromptu performance-"

"And you seemed to enjoy it, Kurtsie," Charlie added, making a few guys snicker.

"What is your suggestion?"

Kurt hesitated, and just before Wes said something else, he decided on, "_The Remedy_ by Jason Mraz."

"Interesting. Noted. Why?"

"It was popular, but not recent, and the accompaniment would include plenty of interesting harmonies as well as the background vocals already present on Jason Mraz's version. Sir," he added at the last moment, and Wes smiled.

"All in favor?" About two-thirds of the Warblers raised their hands, and after a quick count (Blaine could see Wes mouthing the numbers), Wes banged his gavel. "Approved. Now, I had a contender for Regionals, but instead we will be practicing _Silly Love Songs_. Junior Warbler Hummel, you have the floor."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you got the council to agree to this," Blaine said as they all packed into tables at BreadstiX. They would be performing soon, once the microphones were set up, and other people were starting to arrive.<p>

"Me neither," Kurt admitted. "Especially since they were about to vote away ever performing informally again. I think Wes was bending the rules just to spite David, and I still have absolutely no idea what's going on between those two."

"They have their own private little sitcom, but let them work it out. They're obviously pretty stable if they've been together for five years," Blaine argued, and yes, he had a point.

"Kurt," Wes strolled over, flanked by a nervous-looking Thad and an irritated-looking David. "You're announcing us tonight, and we're ready to perform."

"Oh. All right," he agreed once he realized he had no choice, and as soon as Wes' back was turned, Blaine was grinning at him. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

Kurt noticed Rachel arrive, sitting with Mercedes, Tina, and Mike, just before he tapped the microphone that was supposedly set up. Here goes nothing. "Testing , one, two, three. Test-testing, one, two three. All right. So, Happy Valentine's Day, everybody." BreadstiX was the only place still celebrating the holiday the day after. Most of the decorations at Dalton had even been taken down, though the hearts remained and Kurt had seen Cupid traumatizing students earlier. The Warblers assembled on the bleachers that formed a 'stage' at BreadstiX as Kurt spoke. "For those of you BreadstiX patrons who don't know who I am," which are few and far between, "I am Kurt Hummel, and welcome to my first ever Lonely Hearts Club dinner. Whether you are single with hope, or madly in love and are here because I forced you to come out and support me, sit back and enjoy. And to all the singles out there," he added, looking towards Rachel and Mercedes, "this is our year." He snuck into position just as the Warblers started to sing. Why did he have to be in the second row?

_(I can't explain, the feeling's plain to me)  
>(How can I tell you about my loved one?)<br>(Say, can't you see?)  
>(Ah, he gave me more, he gave it all to me)<br>(How can I tell you about my loved one)  
>(Say, can't you see?)<em>

_You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs.  
>But I look around me and I see it isn't so, oh no<br>Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs.  
>And what's wrong with that?<br>I'd like to know, 'cause here I go again_

Blaine was the only one interacting with the audience, dancing around the restaurant in his own typical way and singing directly to certain members of the New Directions at time. He came to a full circle at the end of the verse.

_I love you  
>I love you<em>

Their choreography started at that point, and then Blaine went back to interacting with the audience, singing directly to them, and the Warblers formed a line behind him, helping to set the mood but still acting far too formal.

_Love doesn't come in a minute,  
>Sometimes it doesn't come at all<br>I only know that when I'm in it  
>It isn't silly, no, it isn't silly, love isn't silly at all.<em>

Kurt tried not to snicker as Blaine sang directly to Santana on the second line and Rachel gave her a pitying look across the divider. Blaine wouldn't realize it was rude, but Santana would undoubtedly give him hell for it later. It was at the end of this little bridge that the Warblers poured out into the audience, singing to tables in twos and threes and acting in song like they did the rest of the time, goofy and fun. It was a wonderful change. Kurt got the chance to hug his girls, and he saw others doing the same, Santana even giving Wes a hug (what was up with that?).

_I love you  
>I love you<em>

They reassembled as Blaine sang, do-whopping behind him and generally having a good time. Kurt was making dramatic gestures to Rachel and Mercedes and making them laugh, Blaine doing the same and flattering them.

_I can't explain the feeling's plain to me, so can't you see?  
>Ah, she gave me more, she gave it all to me, now can't you see?<em>

The Warblers finished the song off in the same goofy fashion, having completely abandoned their choreography, but ended in a formal pose to cheering and clapping. Blaine was nodding like he was pleased with the reaction, and Kurt mouthed 'thank you, thank you' to his wonderful friends.

"I told you the ability to MC is an acquired talent," Wes muttered to him as they all sat back down. "Nice job."

"Thank you, but I will never be you, Wes."

"Nor would you want to be," Wes said, dropping the joking mood completely and looking at David with a sigh.

"Wes, is everything-"

"Kurt!" Rachel shrieked, running over to throw herself in the countertenor's lap.

"Bo, you better get over here right now and give me a hug or I will whoop all of your pretty white Warbler asses," Mercedes said with a grin. She gave Blaine a quick hug as Kurt maneuvered an over-excited Rachel off of his lap, then Mercedes squeezed the life out of him as Blaine gave Rachel a hug.

"Oh, I miss you too," Kurt said once he could breathe again.

"You're both coming with us to Denny's, the New Directions are stealing back their countertenor for the night. No ifs, ands, or sassy Warblers butts, all right," Mercedes said as Wes opened his mouth to argue that they needed to get back on the bus, a few Warblers laughing at her play on words.

"Mercedes, we're bus-bound," Blaine tried to explain.

"White boy, so help me God, I will drive you back to Dalton myself, but you are coming with us, understand?" Mercedes demanded, and since she could be suitably scary when she wanted to be, Blaine just swallowed and nodded. "Good. Now, let's get out of here! The food sucks." Kurt laughed at that and took Rachel's arm as the four left the admittedly not-so-great restaurant.

* * *

><p>"What the hell was with that 'love not coming at all' crap, Warbler?" Santana demanded as soon as the twelve teenagers sat down at Denny's, mostly for coffee and desserts.<p>

"I'm sorry!" Blaine apologized immediately. "I didn't intend to sing anything to anyone, that's just kind of how it happened. I know that's not true!" he tried to defend himself as Santana continued to glare at him.

"Santana, lay off," Kurt said firmly, and Santana turned to glare at him, but he could care less.

"Sure, protect your boy-toy," she said, but he ignored it.

"How's life at McKinley?" Kurt never should have asked this question. It never ended well.

"Well, Quinn got mono, even though I don't have mono, and you can only spread mono through tongue, and Finn has mono, which means half the school probably has mono," Sam said, but he didn't sound sad. Could he really not see the connection there? Blaine opened his mouth and Kurt stomped on his foot. Hard.

"Oh, so that's why Quinn and Finn aren't here. I was wondering," Kurt said gently, choosing not to point out the obvious to Sam if no one else was. "It's Finn's own stupid fault for setting up that kissing booth. What a dumb idea."

"It did raise a lot of money," Tina defended Finn, because she was nice like that.

"And like you wouldn't have gone to it, Hummel," Santana spit out, obviously annoyed with more than just Blaine's poor choice in choreography.

"Of course I wouldn't have," Kurt said. "That's called _incest_, Santana, and while I'm sure that floats your boat, I'm not a pervert." Santana glared.

"Unless it's the Winchesters," Tina muttered, and Rachel laughed.

"True that," Brittany said, giving her a high five.

"And you say the _Warblers_ are crazy," Blaine muttered in Kurt's ear, making him laugh.

"Don't share the joke or anything. It's not like we're curious," Mercedes said scornfully, but Kurt ignored her.

"Mercedes, you probably don't wanna know what Blaine might be whispering in Kurt's ear for your sanity," Puck said with a grin. Kurt pinked, Blaine rolled his eyes, and Lauren smacked Puck's arms.

"Keep saying things like that and you'll never have a chance with me, Puckerman," she said, and Kurt grinned.

"I like having her around." Lauren smiled at Kurt and Kurt smiled in return.

"I'm glad you're enjoying my pain, Hummel," Puck said with a glare.

"You enjoyed mine for the first year and a half of high school, Puckerman," Kurt retorted, and Puck had no defense for that.

"Kurt, no need to drag up old memories," Mike added, but Kurt just shrugged.

"I wasn't talking about _you_," Kurt muttered.

"Why are there so many dolphins at Dalton? Is it a dolphin school? Can I swim with dolphins if I go there?" Blaine looked thoroughly confused, and Santana leaned over to explain things to Brittany, glaring at anyone who looked even remotely amused.

"You know, Britt, sometimes I still wonder that." Kurt turned to a perplexed Blaine and explained, "A dolphin is a gay guy to Brittany."

"Ah," Blaine said, and then began processing the conversation. "Very funny," he muttered, and Kurt just smiled.

"I'm still not convinced."

"Will you two stop it with the whispering? Honestly." Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"So how was Valentine's Day at Dalton?" Tina asked, trying to be polite. Kurt and Blaine exchanged a glance.

"Dalton is obsessed with Valentine's Day," Blaine explained. "The hallways have been painted pink for the past three weeks, and there's a guy running around in a pink and gold toga handing out valentines. It's just plain disturbing."

"Nothing of particular interest happened on Valentine's Day, though. For all the hype, it was remarkably calm," Kurt lied, and almost jumped a foot when Blaine squeezed his knee under the table in thanks.

"Blaine molesting you under the table or something?" Puck asked, seeing Kurt spaz, and then grinned when Kurt pinked a little bit. "No way."

"No! Puckerman, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Do you realize how many dirty jokes I could make out of that?"

"Do you realize that if you make any of those dirty jokes, Lauren will walk out of here and you will have lost another chance to be with her?" Puck looked stunned. "Yes, I know _everything_. Even that you were stood up last night. Girls are quite gossipy." Puck glared around the table in general, but let it go.

"The New Directions are always so interesting," Blaine said with a smile, and Brittany leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

* * *

><p>Blaine grumbled as his headed for his dorm room the next day to get fresh clothes, thoroughly tired. He, Kurt, and the members of the New Directions that <em>didn't<em> have mono, had been up really late, so Kurt and he had stayed the night in Lima (Kurt once again insisting on taking the air mattress, though it was in his new room this time, and Blaine being too tired to argue) and had woken up ridiculously early in the morning so that Carole (who had the day off) could drive them to Westerville in time for morning classes. Bless her. Nevertheless, Blaine was dead on his feet, and would probably end up taking a sick day, as bad as that was.

There was a pink heart stapled to his door, and Blaine resisted the urge to just tear it off and rip it into tiny pieces. Someone had obviously found it and put it there for him, he should at least open it. He almost ripped it off the door harshly, but froze when he realized his name was written in Kurt's perfect handwriting. Oh boy. Had Kurt written this before or after Valentine's Day?

Blaine gently peeled it off his door, doing as little damage as possible, and opened the heart with trepidation.

_Dear Blaine,_

_ I know this day didn't go quite as you planned, and I'm terribly sorry that Jeremiah was too stupid to see that he had the option of dating a great guy. The illegality of it was the only real, unavoidable issue. The point is: you're an amazing, sweet, smart, talented person, and you shouldn't have to settle for someone who doesn't see everything in you that I do. I know things will probably be... awkward between us for a while, and that's okay. It's inevitable. The point of this heart is (as much as I hate all of these stupid Dalton Valentine's traditions and have already created a playlist to offer anyone willing to go through the headmaster's rather harsh punishments for 'painting it black') to tell you that you deserve the world, and I know you'll find that. Valentine's Day may not be your favorite holiday anymore... sorry, I'm ranting. I lost my train of thought._

_ I'm glad you're my best friend, even if best friends is all we will ever be. You deserve everything. Happy Valentine's Day. Sincerely, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel._

Blaine read the card carefully three times, smiled, and took a sick day.

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><p><strong>AN: There! Silly Love Song is done. I hauled butt on this chapter, and my update time isn't all that bad this time! Yay! Only two weeks! I hope you enjoy the abnormally long chapter, and I'm looking forward to writing Comeback. It's the only episode Chris Colfer hasn't been a part of in the first three seasons (he wasn't in The Role You Were Born to Play or Dynamic Duets in Season 4), so I have some creative license, and I've already begun story-boarding (I need to watch through the episode to see if there's anything in the New Directions' lives I want to play off of, but more soon). Anyway...**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_When I Get You Alone_' by Robin Thicke  
>'<em>Firework<em>' by Katy Perry  
>'<em>P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)<em>' by Michael Jackson (mentioned)  
>'<em>Wonderwall<em>' by Oasis (mentioned)  
>'<em>Dynamite<em>' by Taio Cruz (mentioned)  
>'<em>We'll Be a Dream<em>' by We the Kings feat. Demi Lovato (mentioned)  
>'<em>Love Like Woe<em>' by the Ready Set (mentioned)  
>'<em>The Remedy<em>' by Jason Mraz (mentioned... for now)  
>'<em>Silly Love Songs<em>' by Paul McCartney

**Reviews are Love.**


	24. Wevid

**A/N: Lots of people have been asking about Wevid, about what has been going on with them and how they reached their current predicament. This chapter is dedicated entirely to Wevid's past and present, and barely mentions our boys at all. If you don't want to, don't read it. Also, the season 2 Warblers have proper names and identities now (don't even get me started on the later seasons rotating Warblers crap), but I started this story before they did. **_**However**_**, if people are getting confused and request the change, I would be more than happy to switch up their last names (I'm obviously not changing anyone I misnamed, but I would be more than happy to clarify). So, on to the Wevid (the **_italics_ **are flashbacks):**

* * *

><p>Wes sighed, staring over at his best friend, the boy he had been in love with for years. He was supposed to be paying attention to the teacher, who was talking about... something that had to do with... wow, he didn't even know what class he was in. The only place his focus remained intact lately was during Warbler's rehearsals, and even that was becoming difficult. How had they reached this point? he asked himself as he scribbled out the heart and their initials that he had been absentmindedly doodling as he stared. He knew that David knew he was staring, but David didn't turn around to reprimand him, so he didn't care that David knew. He didn't care if <em>anyone<em> knew at this point, and certainly a few people must have noticed his blatant gaze.

He sighed again, turning his attention from David to the blank piece of paper that had been intended for notes, but was now covered in meaningless scribbles and doodles. His gaze had left his best friend, but he couldn't stop thinking about the younger boy, his best friend from childhood. Their fathers had been roommates in college, and hadn't stopped using inside jokes from their freshman year. Their mothers spent all of their time together, laughing and knitting and enjoying the housewife life despite the fact that both were highly educated. Their families had always been close, and his parents had told Wes that their original plan was to have children at the same time so that their children would be the exact same age. However, David's parents had run into some issues, and David had been born thirteen months after Wes. That hadn't changed anything.

They had been best friends from the cradle. David had been a fussy baby, according to their collective parents, but whenever David was around Wes, he became perfectly fine and stopped crying. Thus, Wes was a gift from heaven to David's parents as much as he was to his own, and he and David were inseparable from the moment they discovered that. Wes had always been the person David looked up to, his mentor and guide throughout life, even when Wes was almost as clueless as David. Once, when they were playing in the sandbox, David had fallen and scraped his stomach on the sand, leaving red marks but not bleeding. Wes' first reaction as a child was that David had a flesh-eating virus (his parents could blame that on the lack of supervision as far as movies went) and it took their collective parents _months_ to convince the two that David would be fine and his skin wouldn't rot away, it was just a few minor scratches.

Wes would never understand why the Carltons and the Prestons, neither particularly religious families (David had only been baptized upon his insistence at nine years old, Wes never had been), decided to send their sons to possibly the most religious school in Ohio. It could have been the convenience factor (after all, it was only about fifteen minutes from their side-by-side mansions) or it could have been lack of faith in the public school system, or just a deranged whim. Either way, they had attended an extremely religious school together starting from kindergarten (pre-kindergarten was in a separate, less religious but still extremely private school). Wes attended St. Paul's School from kindergarten until ninth grade, and David attended the same school from kindergarten until eighth grade. They transferred to Dalton at the same time, their parents working very hard in the pursuit of creating a life-long friendship between the two (not that it was a hard task).

David had a hard time socializing with some of the stricter types of people at St. Paul's, being more laid-back than most of the religious who attended the school. Wes was essentially his life-line for as long as he could be. It wasn't incredibly difficult during the elementary portion of their education, but there was one horrible year during which Wes was in the junior high section and David was in the elementary section, and they were both alone. It was during the beginning of seventh grade, that very lonely year, that Wes began to realize he liked both boys and girls, and he had never had an issue with his sexuality after that. It was something he accepted about himself and he knew his parents would love him no matter what. Anyone else who didn't like it... that was their problem, not his. The more difficult part was that he liked David in specific, and he was fairly certain that David didn't return his feelings. David was only twelve, he didn't even like girls at that point (they still had cooties); as far as Wes knew, David didn't like boys either.

Wes realized his life at St. Paul's wouldn't be easy if he insisted on going against the status quo and being himself. As much as he wanted to be proud of who he was, he didn't want his next two years to be miserable either, and he realized that he got a lot of attention from the girls in the junior high section. His solution was to keep his feelings for David to himself and snag himself an eighth grade girlfriend. By the time David was ready to enter the ranks of the junior high students, she was moving on to high school, but she was transferring instead of just moving up. Wes didn't even remember her name, and he 'dated' her for almost a year. She was his first kiss. How sad is that? For the sake of appearances, Wes waited an appropriate amount of time before asking out another girl, whom he 'dated' steadily until he transferred to Dalton, almost two years later. Her name started with a 'k'. Katie, maybe, or Karen.

He and David were a fluke, and, ironically, if the kids at St. Paul's hadn't been so awful and religious, they probably never would have happened. It was tiring for David to try to be something he wasn't, which he did constantly in order to fit in, and they began wandering a few times a week to the edges of campus, walking across the sports fields that weren't in use, just talking and giving David a chance to be himself around the only person who liked him for who he really was. He remember the day those walks escalated like it was yesterday.

_"The immorality of modern holidays? Really? They couldn't have thought of anything else to rant at us about? They had to ruin Halloween and Christmas and Valentine's Day for us?" David demanded of no one as they wandered across the lacrosse field. It was too early in the year for anyone to be practicing, so they were alone, David's amplified and annoyed voice lost to the wind. "And everyone just went for it! Everyone vowed to celebrate holidays as they should be celebrated and honor the traditions of the past. Isn't that what holidays are? Traditions?" David continued, and Wes sighed._

_ "You can't let it get to you, Dave, they're just annoying." David continued to grumble under his breath, but Wes ignored it. "They're about to start field hockey practice soon," he said, gesturing to the field next to them, "why don't we go out into the woods?"_

_ "I'm absolutely okay with breaking that particular rule," David said, walking quickly as they tried to disappear into the woods before any field hockey players saw them. "Heck, I'm thinking about breaking every rule in the book just to spite them."_

_ "Because that's what a mature and responsible person would do in this situation," Wes said calmly, and David didn't reply, speeding up a little bit more and making it hard for Wes to keep up. They reached the cover of the trees beyond the sports fields just as they began hearing the clash of field hockey sticks and the yells of angry girls... which was never a good combination._

_ David settled down on the lower portion of The Ring. Almost the entire school was encircled by a forest-covered hill, making the sports fields perfectly conditioned in the valley. "Thanks for this," he said, clearly having let the subject go as he sat on the wet leaves, patting the spot next to him. "As always." David smiled, and Wes ignored the way his heart flipped a little in his chest. K (he still couldn't remember her name either) never caused that kind of reaction._

_ "No problem," Wes replied, sitting next to him and ignoring the moisture seeping into the back of his pants as best he could. "Now, are you going to tell me what Abigail did that made you upset this time?" The extremely sad part: he couldn't remember the name of his long-term girlfriends from middle school (only a few years ago), but he could remember practically every woman David even glanced at._

_ "She completely snubbed me!" David complained, and Wes knew he had found the right topic. "She's completely obsessed with that altar boy, Peter, because he's so holy, he carries things around for a priest!" Wes wrapped an arm around his tactile best friend as he talked. "Why is it that I have so much trouble with girls? Why does no one here like me?"_

_ "Maybe you just haven't found the right girl," Wes replied. "I know I haven't." David smiled a little at that. David hated K, for some reason that he could no longer remember. "But don't worry about it too much, because we won't be here forever."_

_ "That doesn't matter," David said, sighing. "My legacy here is still going to be: that weird, nonreligious guy that everyone hated." David curled into Wes' side a little, and Wes couldn't help himself._

_ "I don't hate you," he said gently, and when David turned to him to say something in reply, he leaned in and kissed his best friend softly. David froze for a second, and Wes almost pulled away until he felt David's hand rest on his shoulder, the younger boy pulling him closer and kissing him in return._

_ They needed to get back to the school. If field hockey practice had already started, it was past four, and they needed to be at dinner by five. The walk back to school was almost half an hour, and they were going to be late if they didn't leave soon, and Wes knew all of this. While he was kissing David, soft and sweet kisses that made butterflies swirl in his stomach and his heart melt, none of those undeniable facts mattered._

_ "We..." Wes began, pulling away. It took a great amount of willpower to _continue ___pulling away when David leaned forward, trying to catch his lips. "We should head back, or we'll be late to dinner and we'll get in big trouble."_

_ "Well golly gee, whatever would we do if we got in _trouble___," David said sarcastically, but he stood up when Wes did, and they headed back to the school together, not saying anything about what had just happened._

_ They were about ten minutes from the school when David finally spoke up. "That was my first kiss, you know. Well, my first kisses."_

_ "I know," Wes said with a chuckle. More seriously, he added, "I wish it had been mine."_

_ "I thought..." David trailed off, and Wes began to feel nervous. "I thought something like that would feel wrong," he finished, and Wes' heart sunk._

_ "It didn't feel wrong to me," Wes muttered, barely audible even to the boy walking right next to him._

_ "It didn't feel wrong to me either," David admitted._

That was the start of everything. Before, Wes had often touched or hugged his very tactile best friend to comfort him. His need for touch was one of the things the more religious people in their school disapproved of, so Wes was really the only one he was tactile around. The only thing that really changed about their friendship was how Wes comforted David. Now, instead of lying on the grass in the sports fields, they would sit among the leaves or snow or mud in the woods and make out. Wes was still dating K, but he never really considered it as cheating, and even if he had, he didn't really like her. That was probably partially because David didn't like her. David was still just his best friend who didn't really fit in at their school, and they never felt the need to define themselves as anything else. That was how Wes' eighth grade year went, possibly the best year of his life.

The bell jolted Wes out of his musings, and he tried to catch up to David as the students left the classroom, but either David was walking abnormally fast, or he was avoiding Wes. Wes couldn't blame him, after all. They hadn't left things in the greatest state, and then Wes had spent the whole period staring at him.

* * *

><p>Wes paid about as much attention in his second class of the day as he had in his first. He had always been a good student, but the focus of his thoughts was so close, yet so far away, that he was having trouble concentrating on anything else. Things had been difficult between them since the day they started at Dalton, David only fourteen, Wes only fifteen. Wes was single for the first time in the last three years, and the outgoing, accepting students at Dalton had accepted David into their midst without a thought. So, for the first time since David was five and Wes was six, David no longer needed Wes to be his lifeline and make him feel better when he was left out, or the last person picked for gym class. The tables had turned at Dalton, and now David was the mediator between Wes' stringency (which had been a positive at their old school) and the laid-back Warblers. Loneliness had become the prevailing issue in both of their lives (David having no more luck with women at Crawford Country Day, despite the fact that they didn't think he was weird like the girls at St. Paul's had), and that was what their... relationship, if it could be called that, became centered around.<p>

That wasn't the only thing that changed, of course. They were teenage boys, just starting towards maturity, and things between them got a lot steamier. They didn't go all the way until the latter half of David's sophomore year, but during these times... Wes looked around, blushed, and changed the focus of his thoughts. No need to make staring at David any more awkward than it already was.

They never let what happened between them physically define their sexualities, no matter how steamy things got between them. During David's freshman year, they didn't go far enough to truly define either of them (no clothes ever came _completely _off, and no hands wandered below the waist), and they never discussed what was happening between them. At least, not until the day he almost died, or at least, he managed to convince himself that it was a near-death experience long enough for one of the worst afternoons of his life to result.

_Wes was trembling as he knocked on David's door, having just come back from driver's education and one of the scariest things that had ever happened to him. David was the first person he went to for comfort, always._

_ Wes had been driving perfectly fine, despite it being his first time actually driving. His teacher had been commending him, thoroughly proud of the progress he had made that day, and Wes allowed himself to breath a sigh of relief as they were within view of the school. He could remember every second of what happened next in vivid detail. In hindsight, he should have seen the car slowing down, but he continued driving by as a car whipped into a turn with no blinker, almost slamming into the side of the driver's ed car. Instead of slamming on the breaks, he slammed on the accelerator clumsily, but that had been the right move, as he jerked forward and the car whizzed by his back bumper, continuing down the road just as fast as if nothing had happened. Several other cars stopped and asked to see if everything was all right, and needless to say Wes was terrified of driving again._

_ Wes relived the incident in his head one last time before David opened the door. He was grinning, but the smile fell off his face immediately as he saw how shaken Wes was. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately, grabbing Wes in a hug and pulling him further into the room, closing the door behind them. Wes repeated the incident into David's shoulder as David rubbed his back gently. The two stood like that until Wes had stopped shaking, and then David released Wes._

_ "I'm sorry, it was just completely terrifying," Wes admitted, and David shook his head._

_ "Don't worry about it," he said gently,rubbing Wes' arm,"it's all right." Wes was about to reply when David leaned forward and kissed him, immediately making all thoughts fly out of Wes' head as he kissed David back feverishly. It was the first time David had ever kissed him, rather than the other way around, and he couldn't help feel as if some progress had been made._

_ David continued kissing him, walking him over to the bed, and pulling Wes down on top of responded eagerly, but after a second paused, pushing against David's chest, signaling him to stop. "What?" David asked, sounding rightfully annoyed._

_ "What are we doing, Dave?" Wes asked, and David snorted._

_ "Has it really been so long that you no longer know what this is leading to?" David asked with a grin. "I'll be more than happy to refresh your memory."_

_ "No," Wes said, pushing him away again as David leaned in to kiss him, "I don't mean right now. I mean in general. This. _Us___." David didn't say anything. "David, I almost died today, and you just made me feel one hundred percent better with a few kisses. Doesn't that mean something to you?"_

_ David was the one who pulled away, this time with no encouragement. "Wes, I know you're frightened still, but don't make this more than it is. We're just fooling around," he said as he stood up. "Neither of us are gay, this is just stress relief."_

_ "I'm bisexual," Wes said, something he had never told David, or anyone else for that matter. "I'm bisexual, and I'm in love with you, Dave." David stiffened, clearly surprised. "Say something."_

_ "You're out of your mind," was what he chose to say, standing up fully, walking out, and slamming the door behind him, despite the fact that they were in David's dorm room, back before they shared a room. _

They didn't talk for a little over a month, thirty-six excruciatingly painful days, to be exact, but eventually David was the one who caved, coming to Wes' dorm room, sitting down on the bed opposite Wes', burying his face in his hands, and sighing.

_"I'm sorry," he admitted. "I shouldn't have freaked out. Everything's still okay between us, you're still my best friend, and I want us to be... the way we were before."_

_ "I have a girlfriend," Wes said coldly, still upset that David didn't return his feelings, plus that he had bailed on Wes when Wes needed him the most. "Her name is Crystal, I met her at Crawford Country Day, and I'm happy with her."_

_ "I'm glad," David responded coolly. "I want you to be happy." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Look, Wes, if this is about what you said..."_

_ "It doesn't matter, David," Wes said sharply, "I have a girlfriend."_

_ "That's never bothered either of us in the past, and you know it," David responded just as coolly as he had before. "Wes, you know how much I care about you, it's just not... I'm not gay._

_ "Well, neither am I, but maybe I want more than just someone who wants to kiss me a few times whenever one of us is upset," Wes replied._

_ "Okay," David replied calmly._

_ "I'm not talking emotionally, David, though I want that as well."_

_ "I know."_

_ "And you would be... okay with that?" Wes asked uncertainly, having been previously convinced that this would scare David away worse than anything._

_ "Wes, I'm not gay, and I'm not bi like you are either, but I'm willing to try anything once." David grinned. "Or twice."_

_"David, I..." David shut him up with a kiss_.

That was the first time they had ever gone further than making out, and it turned out David was definitely willing to try anything, often a lot more than twice, but things didn't change between them emotionally. Wes kept his feelings to himself, because it was better to have David in any way that he could than none at all, and David continued to refuse to admit that he had any feelings at all.

This relationship continued for a year and a half, them progressing physically but never emotionally. By the beginning of David's sophomore year, he was having more success with girls, and each of them went through girlfriends without feeling guilty. David, ironically, turned out to be more of a relationship man, often dating girls for several months. Wes couldn't live with the guilt, and whenever it seemed like a girl really started to like him, he broke up with her. Most of his relationships ended up lasting about two weeks, and it became a running joke that no woman would ever satisfy him. The jokesters (mostly Warblers) had no idea how right they really were. All Wes wanted was David.

David and Wes' relationship did change slightly in its dynamic. Fooling around stopped being something they did only when they were upset, and their relationship became almost casual, bordering on friends-with-benefits casualty and frequency. Both of them felt comfortable going to one another to mess around, especially David when his girlfriends were being frustrating. Wes never reached much of a physical relationship with any girl, and he was too scared to ask if David did. The answer might kill him. Wes sometimes told David he loved him, often unintentionally, but David eventually became accustomed to the words, never replying but for a kiss, and they never talked about feelings following that fight. They began to share a room for Wes' junior and David's sophomore year, and they discovered that made their arrangement a lot easier. By the end of Wes' junior year, all seemed right with the world, and Wes was perfectly content to continue with David like this forever.

Wes' senior year brought along some questions that neither of them were ready to answer, especially in the form of Alison. Alison was the first girl Wes had dated that he thoroughly enjoyed, and he could see himself having a future with her, which scared him. He didn't want to have a future with anyone but David, but they were starting to feel like an impossibility. As Alison and he grew closer, David withdrew, obviously making room for Wes' new girlfriend and trying to end their relationship on the side. It was around Christmas, which the two spent with Wes' family that year, that this issue culminated into a fight.

_"I think I'm going to break up with Alison," Wes had mentioned one day, as casually as he could._

_ "Why would you do that?" David asked, lying on Wes' bed and eating tortilla chips and salsa._

_ "Don't get me wrong, Alison is amazing, but she's not the person I want to be with." Wes didn't have to say who he wanted to be with. They both knew, and the less it was out in the open, the better._

_ "I think you should stay with her," David responded causally, as if it wasn't heart-breaking news. "She's awesome."_

_"Why? Why should I stay with her when I have something so much better?" Wes demanded, a little angry with how cavalier David was being right now. It had never really bothered him before, but as their first year of separation _ever ___grew closer and closer, Wes was beginning to wonder if their relationship as it was could really last. They just keep cheating on girlfriends forever? What happens when girlfriends turn into fiances, or wives? Wes couldn't handle the idea of them being done forever._

_ "Wes, we're not together," David responded, only angering Wes more through his clam tone. "This is just physical relief, because all of my girlfriends seem to be prudes and you seem to hate all of yours." David grinned and Wes wanted to slap him. "I don't want you to break up with a girlfriend because of me, because we will never be together, okay? I love you like a brother, but I'm straight."_

_ "Why do you insist on lying to someone that knows the truth?" Wes demanded, too angry to care about all of the careful lines he had built to stop their friendship from coming apart completely because of this. "Why do you insist that you're straight to the man who bent you over and made you come so hard you almost blacked out last night? Why are you too scared to be with me, even after five years? We go to Dalton, Kurt's still convinced that it's a gay school, and I'm not far from being convinced myself. It's not like we would be shunned, like you would be shunned. This isn't St. Paul's, David! And our parents wouldn't care, it would probably make their day that their sons are in love-"_

_ "We're not in love!" David yelled. "You may be in love with me, but the feeling _is not mutual___.__ It will _never ___be mutual. Why can't you understand that?"_

David stormed out at that point, and spent the rest of his Christmas with his own family. Wes made some completely-unbelievable excuse to his family and spent the rest of his Christmas vacation moping-

"Mr. Carlton?" Ms. Kay asked gently, breaking into his reverie. "Are you feeling all right. I will call into your next class."

"No, I'm sorry, I'm all right." Wes looked around the classroom. It was totally empty, meaning the bell had probably rung at least two minutes ago. "I just got a little lost in my own head.

"You know, Mr. Carlton, heartsickness is an illness," she gave him an excuse with a smile. Wes shook his head.

"No, I should go. Thank you, Ms. Kay."

* * *

><p>Christmas break following that fight had been one of the loneliest times of his life. When he returned to school, he was convinced that David wouldn't even look at him, but instead, their relationship returned to what it was in middle school. David came to him, crying, having broken up with his girlfriend, and they had... well, they always had a disagreement over what to call it. In Wes' opinion, they had made love, but David would never agree with that. The point was, emotional distress became the fodder to their relationship, and it was completely unhealthy. Then again, not much in their relationship had ever been that healthy.<p>

Wes had to be the voice of reason in their situation, as much as it killed him.

_"We need to talk," he demanded of his secret lover one day in late January, David looking up from his homework in surprise. Their conversations rarely ended well, but this had to be done. "I'm tired of this."_

_ "Tired of what?" David asked, sounding confused and a little bit sleepy. Wes pushed down his natural urge to just smile, kiss his forehead, and tell him to take a nap. David needed a little bit of tough love, even if he didn't want it._

_ "I don't even know. I'm tired of whatever you would describe _this___ as," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "I don't care if you call it fooling around, I really don't, but whatever it is, it needs to change."_

_ "What do you mean?" David asked, and Wes knew he wasn't trying to play innocent, but he was tired of the ignorance David had for his feelings._

_ "I can't do this anymore David. You claim you have no feelings for me? Fine, then this ends. Permanently. But I don't believe that you don't have any feelings for me, I can't believe that. If I believed that I would have lost my mind tat his point. So here are your options. Either you're with me, openly and proudly and _exclusively___, or you're not with me at all." David looked shell-shocked, and a little angry, but this had been going on for far too long._

_ "Wes, that's not fair," David tried to argue, but Wes remained firm in his resolve. "You're still with Alison." It was weak, and they both knew it._

_ "You don't have to decide right now, Dave," Wes replied, ignoring David's comment completely. "I'll give you time, I know you'll need it, but this can't continue. Not if you're going to insist that you don't feel anything at all for me."_

_ "How many times do I have to tell you, Wes?" David demanded, anger taking over surprise. "I like girls!" Wes didn't say anything, knowing that even if that was true, David liked him as well. Eventually, David tired of the silence and stormed out of their shared room._

From that point on, they were just best friends again, ignoring the way David stared at Wes sometimes. In a way, Wes had missed being with David without things being complicated by feelings. At some points, he even regretted kissing David that first time in the woods, but he dismissed those thoughts quickly. Was better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, or so they said. Whoever 'they' were, 'they' were fucking stupid. Occasionally, David did something that suggested he was leaning towards wanting to be with Wes, holding his hand under the council or cafeteria table, or not being as careful about what he said. Little things, but they were important. They never talked about the fight, and they never mentioned the ultimatum again, until that damn bonding event with the (admittedly pretty) waitress. The moment David had flirted with her, all of those feelings of anger and resentment had boiled up in him again. David had become bold in being openly affectionate towards Wes, even holding his hand under the table at Gerigno's, as if field-testing the idea of being together with him as a true couple. David had even almost kissed him in public, until Kurt interrupted. He had immediately stopped to help his lover when he had been pegged with a snowball, not caring that Charlie labeled it 'weakness'. David had teased and comforted him through _The Shining_. Wes was tempted to count that as public affection, but too many Warblers were too scared to be observant.

It was when Jeff had mentioned the closet that everything had fallen apart, David starting to pull away as he always did. The constant teasing from a bizarre-acting Charlie hadn't helped either, plus the fact that new gay couples were emerging every day it felt like (Jeff and Nick slowly coming out of the closet, and Kurt and Blaine, no matter how much they denied it, were head-over-heels for each other). All these factors just put pressure on David, who was acting like a cornered, spooked animal. Then David had started flirting with the waitress, and for some reason Wes considered that him making his choice in a moment of anger, and then she flirted back, and David became angry that he was angry, and everything was fallen apart. Of course, all of this was only to find out that David was being unintentionally-suggestive, and he still hadn't made up his mind. Charlie interrupted them about to kiss again during the paint war, but the underlying cause of the argument still wasn't over. Whenever they got too close to having a real, emotional relationship, David pulled away, and Wes was tired of it. Still, their relationship improved slightly following that. They were talking again, pranking people together... among other things.

Just last week, the inevitable had happened. David had made his choice.

_"I can't do it, Wes,"_ _David said softly, and completely randomly, late one night._

_ "Do what?" Wes said, too involved in an episode of Supernatural to realize what David was referring to immediately._

_ "This. _Us___. I can't do us. I'm sorry." Wes' heart had broken._

David had decided they wouldn't be together at all. It was the next day that they ended up on separate ends of the council table during rehearsal, with poor, unfortunate Thad in the middle, and things hadn't improved since.

Ignoring the fact he was in the middle of class, he buried his head in his hands and sighed loudly. He could feel David turn to look at him as everyone else did, Mr. Cullen not stopping for a moment in his lecture. What was he going to do now?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There. Almost six thousand words of pure Wevid, for everyone who was curious. It even explains the events of the bonding event. I just want to emphasize that David isn't the bad guy. No one here is the bad guy. David's just afraid of his feelings, I hope you enjoyed the angst going on in Wes' head. More normal MTW soon.**


	25. Meet Marcus

Kurt was practically falling asleep at the Warblers' lunch table, ignoring the madness around him. The New Directions had kept him and Blaine out _way_ too late, and Kurt was willing to bet he and Rachel were the only ones in school that day. Well, maybe not. After all, the New Directions didn't have a two-hour commute.

Blaine certainly hadn't shown up to school, and a nervous feeling was bubbling in Kurt's stomach. Sending Blaine that heart had been... risky, to say the least, but Blaine had experienced such an awful Valentine's Day, he deserved to have one bright spot. Kurt just hoped that the heart hadn't been received... badly, and Blaine not being in classes was not a good sign.

Kurt obviously wasn't the only one missing a... significant other, because Jeff plopped right down next to him at the lunch table with a sigh and a plateful of mildly-healthy food. "Hey, Kurt."

"Jeff, you seem to be missing a dark-haired Siamese twin," Kurt said, looking around for Nick. Jeff shook his head.

"He's not here today. He's... not feeling good." Kurt wasn't getting the whole story there, that much he could tell, but before he got the chance to ask, Wes sat down on his other side with an equally-depressed sigh, not even bothering to say hello. When Kurt looked over at him, his gaze was on David, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table and not bothering to prank anyone. There was even an unwatched Gatorade sitting right next to the pepper shaker. It was... odd. "You all right, Wes?"

"Not even close," Wes muttered. "I can't get him out of my head." Wes' voice was so quiet and distracted, Kurt wasn't even sure he had meant to say that out loud. "I miss him so much." Wes didn't say anything else, pillowing his head on his arms. He wasn't eating anything. Kurt was tempted to put a consoling hand on his back, but Thad sat down on Wes' other side and started whispering to him before he got the chance.

"Anyone else have a feeling this is going to be a weird week?" Michael asked from Jeff's other side, looking from the seemingly-inconsolable Wes to the rather glum looking Jeff.

"Every week at Dalton is a weird week," Charlie commented as he practically sashayed over to the table, stopping briefly to give Wes a kiss on the cheek before sitting down next to Michael. "If it wasn't, this school would be boring." He had a point. "Where's Blainers?"

"Have more kinky stories about Lucas to disgust him with?" Michael asked.

"Sadly, no."

"He's probably sleeping," Kurt explained.

"What, did you wear him out too much last night, Kurt?" Charlie asked with a grin, and Michael snickered.

"_Charlie_. We were out with the New Directions last night, we went to bed late, _and_ we had to get up early to get to Dalton in time for morning classes." Not that Kurt had possessed the energy to pay attention in morning classes, but that was totally beside the point.

"Sick day," Charlie scoffed. "What a cheater."

"You're one to talk," some random Dalton student Charlie had probably slept with commented as he walked by, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I don't cheat, I just don't believe in exclusivity," he yelled across the cafeteria, not caring who heard. "Except with Lucas," he added at a normal, conversational volume. This comment was followed by several, extremely-mature whip sounds.

Jeff wasn't eating his food, he was just picking at it with his fork, rearranging his plate so it looked like he had eaten. It was a trick Kurt had picked up during his time as a Cheerio (at some point his father had become concerned about his extreme portion control), and Jeff wasn't very good at it. Kurt recognized it easily. Apparently, so did Charlie.

"Eat up, bitch, you're too skinny already." Charlie and Jeff exchanged what Kurt would call a 'significant look', Jeff laughed and starting to eat mouthfuls under the watchful eye of Charlie.

Did that boy run the school or something?

* * *

><p>"<em>Define the word 'regresar' for me<em>," Rachel demanded over the phone as Kurt unlocked his dorm room. He had to think back through several Spanish lessons before remembering.

"To come back?" he asked uncertainly as he nodded to Chris, who was sitting on his bed with his laptop and blind to the rest of the world.

"_Correct_," Rachel said, and Kurt really did know her too well. He could tell that she was mildly annoyed she didn't get the chance to announce the meaning. It was probably part of the dramatic skit Kurt _knew_ she planned in her head before calling. "_That's our lesson for this week, regresar. Coach Sylvester is visiting the Glee club tomorrow, according to the grapevine, because she apparently tried to commit suicide-_"

"What?" Kurt practically screeched, and it was a testament to Chris' laid-back attitude that he didn't even react. Either that, or he had gone deaf.

"_Kurt, spell suicide for me_."

"S-U-I-C-I-D-E," Kurt spelled suspiciously, knowing Rachel was taking this chance to be dramatic by her tone.

"_Add an 'e' as the third letter, and try it again._" Kurt did as he was told and it clicked in his mind.

"Okay, so she's officially gone crazy."

"_Correct,_" Rachel said again, "_she tried to overdose with gummy vitamins, but that's not the important part. That _is _the reason for the lesson, but the important part is what I'm doing with it._"

"Enlighten me," Kurt said, with just a pinch of sarcasm.

"_I am staging a comeback._" Captain Obvious much? "_I am paying Brittany to buy leg warmers and reindeer sweaters and start wearing them, with the hopes that she will spread the trend under my name. It was a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself_."

"Dear Madonna, so this is what happens when I leave the school. Just a few months and you're already spreading your horrendous fashion sense around the school, with no one there to stop it." Had it really only been a few months?

"_Kurt, this is important to my career_," she said disapprovingly. "_I need to establish a positive image, and fashion is one of the greatest ways to do so_."

"First you have to have a sense of style," Kurt added, finished unpacking his messenger bag onto his desk and relaxing back against his bed, with his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, and a nail file.

"_This resurgence in my career could be the difference between_..." Rachel was obviously just ignoring him at this point, but she stopped mid-sentence, trailing off as if she didn't know quite what to say.

"The difference between winning and losing at Regionals," Kurt finished the sentence for her, and he could hear her swallow across the line. "Rachel, just because we're competition, doesn't mean you can't mention the competition abstractly. I would never tell you about the Warblers' preparations, and you would never tell me about the New Directions' strategies."

"_You're preparing already_?" Rachel asked in shock, as he had expected her to. The New Directions never planned ahead.

"You're not?" he teased, and she sighed.

"_Trust me, if I were in charge-_"

"Thank your G-d, you're not," Kurt interjected, but she ignored him again.

"_We would prepare during every rehearsal between competitions and have frivolous assignments at the end of the year._" It was a good strategy, exactly what the Warblers did, with the addition of impromptu performances, but that would never happen in the New Directions.

"Rachel, it's important to explore the different styles of music available, and that's exactly what Mr. Schuester has... you guys," he had been so tempted to say 'us,' "do with assignments. If you hadn't gotten laryngitis," Rachel whimpered at the memory, "Puck would never have performed, or even have heard of, Sammy Davis Jr."

"_I'm still not pleased with our inferior technique_," Rachel said, "_but we will still beat you guys_."

"Bring it on," Kurt said with a smile, ignoring how much his heart hurt at being in competition with his friends. He had an excuse to end the conversation when Pavarotti began tweeting at him, and he had to feed the little warbler.

* * *

><p>The next day, Blaine was back in school, with sheepish excuses for the fact that he took a sick day, and he and Kurt had a good time watching the video Mercedes sent him after lunch. Sam, apparently, had decided Justin Beiber would be his road to coming back, probably in terms of his relationship with Quinn, and the most ridiculous part was that it had worked. It was ridiculous, but Mercedes had assured him that it actually had worked, and all of the New Direction girls had gotten really into his performance.<p>

"I can't believe girls fall for that," Blaine said as he requested they watch it one more time. They were both practically crying with laughter, holed up in a corner of Dalton's vast library during a study hall. "I suppose serenading is sweet," Blaine still sounded a little bitter, "but that's just lame."

"Whatever works," Kurt said with a chuckle, knowing that was exactly the philosophy among the New Directions. He hit 'play' again, having uploaded the video to Blaine's laptop.

Blaine looked over at him as Sam introduced the Justin Beiber Experience to the New Directions, and Kurt could tell something was on his mind. He still hadn't mentioned the heart, but Kurt had a feeling that was about to change. "Thank you," Blaine said quietly. "Happy Valentine's Day." That was all that really needed to be said.

"Do you want to go out for coffee after school?" Kurt asked Blaine, and it really didn't sound different to him, but Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Do you mean like normal, or..." Blaine didn't finish the sentence, and Kurt tried his hardest not to blush. He failed.

"Yeah, like normal. Not like..." Kurt didn't finish his sentence either. Did Blaine seriously think that Kurt was going to ask him out after having been rejected already? Because if he did, he was delusional.

"I can't today." Kurt nodded, a lump forming in his throat. Blaine was pulling away form him because of his stupid feelings, and _Jacobs_, why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? "I have make-up work to do from yesterday," Blaine explained with a sheepish smile, obviously not realizing Kurt was stupidly upset. "Tomorrow, usual time?"

"Of course, yeah." Blaine was _not_ pulling away, Blaine was _not_ pulling away.

* * *

><p>One thing Blaine absolutely loved about Dalton was the bathroom, as odd as that sounded. There was only one girls' bathroom, and it was in the lobby of the main building. Other than that, there were entirely boys' bathrooms, which eliminated that awkward 'which bathroom should I use?' conundrum. Not that Blaine, who was more... subtle, had to worry about that, but it was definitely nice for the rest of the world. Plus, Blaine didn't feel entirely comfortable in the men's room of most places either way.<p>

Also another thing he loved was the lack of sitcom type drama. No cat fights at Prom or crying in the bathroom. So when Blaine pulled open the heavy wood door to the bathroom outside the cafeteria, the last thing he expected to hear was the sounds of someone crying. There had even been incidents of students walking in on other students in the handicapped stall, using it for... unconventional purposes, but Blaine was pretty sure this was unprecedented.

He half-expected it to be Charlie, because Charlie didn't believe in the word 'unprecedented,' and went out of his way to do exactly the opposite of what was expected of him. So Blaine was surprised to see Jeff curled up next to one of the sinks, crying into his knees. Blaine wasn't sure what to say, so he slid down the wall next to Jeff, leaving a tiny space between them that Jeff quickly closed.

Once Jeff had stopped crying, Blaine finally asked, "Does this have something to do with Nick not being in school today?" Kurt had pointed that out to him earlier, because their super-awkward conversation in the library, because apparently Nick hadn't been in school yesterday, either.

"He just disappeared after we got home from Lima," Jeff replied, not really answering Blaine's question but telling him what he wanted to know anyway. "I haven't seen or heard from him since. I called him, he won't answer, I texted him, he didn't reply. I tried calling his house a few minutes ago, and his sister sent me away with some rather cold words. This isn't like him, he's near surgically attached to his phone, and he always shows up for school. He hasn't taken a sick day since he had meningitis in the forth grade." Yeah, that sounded like Nick. "I think... I think his parents didn't take the news about us very well," Jeff explained quietly, and that made a lot of sense.

"Jeff, I know you want to be there for Nick, but this is definitely something he has to deal with on his own, and your presence might only make it worse." Blaine had nothing optimistic to say. This situation sucked all around.

"Sucks," Jeff muttered, unaware of how he was agreeing with Blaine's thoughts. "Sorry I turned clingy there," he added, pushing Blaine away as if he hadn't been the one to lean into the platonic-cuddle.

"No problem," Blaine said, standing up and holding out a hand to help Jeff up. "You should go back to the lunch room and commiserate with Wes."

"What's going on with him anyway?"

"No clue," Blaine lied.

Jeff walked all the way to the door before turning around. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"I did come in here for a reason besides comforting you," Blaine said with a laugh, stepping into a stall. Now he _really_ had to go.

* * *

><p>That morning Rachel called him, claiming that she was living in an absolute nightmare because Brittany had decided to wear her leg warmers on her arms, and the trend was spreading like crazy. It was kind of a disaster, but since Rachel's comeback plan was ridiculous anyway, Kurt kind of tuned her out, even being so bold as to put down the phone while she was talking. The likelihood was that she wouldn't notice anyway.<p>

"Hey, dude," Chris greeted him when he got in. Apparently, he had joined the basketball team, and he had been at early morning practice, which was a pretty common thing at Dalton. Kurt raised an eyebrow at the plebeian term.

"Hello, Christopher. How was practice?" Chris groaned.

"Brutal. The coach is really busting my butt because I joined mid-season. Still, I'm not a bench warmer, so that's an improvement. I would say you should come to one of my games some time, but first of all, that sounds like I'm hitting on you, and second, you hate sports of all kinds and I don't take it personally." Kurt laughed.

"Sorry, you're not my type," he said, fluttering his eyelashes teasingly. "But you're right. I should come to one of your games sometime." Chris stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"You hate sports," he repeated.

"Yes, but first of all, you're my roommate and I should support you in all of your sweaty straight-boy interests, and second, I'm branching out." Also, Blaine liked basketball. All sports, really.

"'Sweaty straight-boy interests?'" Chris repeated. "You make everything sound so gay."

"You should hear how I describe football." Chris laughed.

"Yeah, but no one can blame you for that one. Is there a reason you're holding the phone?"

"Rachel's talking," he replied, and he didn't bother to explain when Chris looked at him quizzically.

"Okay," he said slowly. "How are things with Blaine?" Kurt sighed.

"There aren't things with Blaine. I... I messed everything up." Chris sat down next to Kurt on his bed, and Kurt was kind of straight. Most straight guys avoided gay guys' beds. It was just a rule of society. Chris didn't seem aware of this rule.

"What's up?"

"I told Blaine that I thought he was going to ask me out on Valentine's Day."

"And I'm judging by the fact that you're not taking advantage of his lack of roommate right now," Kurt blushed at the innuendo, "that didn't go quite as well as you'd hoped."

"Correct," he said, ignoring how Chris was grinning at his blush. "He said something about not wanting to mess up our friendship-"

"Which is a legitimate reason."

"And how bad he is at romance-"

"Which is a legitimate problem." Kurt glared at Chris.

"He _rejected_ me, Christopher." He had adopted the same habit with Chris that he had adopted with Finn: he called them by their full first names whenever he was annoyed with them. "He said he really cared about me. That's a gentle way of saying 'I love you, but I don't like you.'" Chris rolled his eyes.

"Take it from someone who's turned a lot of girls down," Kurt snorted at that, "okay, someone who's turned _some_ girls down," Chris corrected with a pout. "That's not a rejection. That's being an idiot maybe, but that's not a rejection."

"Really, because he asked me earlier if I was asking him out when I wanted to go out for out almost-daily coffee!"

"Were you?"

"No!"

"And did he imply that if you were, it was a bad thing?" Kurt paused.

"His _tone_-"

"And if you _had_ been asking him out, can you guarantee, from something he _said_, not tone or facial expression or _whatever_ other cock-and-bull excuse you have for everything he does, that he would have said no?" Chris asked, and Kurt had no answer to that.

"You suck, sometimes, you know that?"

"That's what I'm here for."

Kurt was interrupted from saying something witty in reply by his phone shrieking "_Kurt Hummel, are you listening to me_?" so loudly both boys could hear it audibly with the phone speakers-down in his lap.

"Uh-oh," Chris said with a grin. "You're in _trouble_." Chris continued to tease him as he picked up the phone and tried to sooth an extremely annoyed Rachel. Eventually, he gave up and used the excuse he had to get to class.

* * *

><p>"Are you going home this weekend?" Blaine asked Kurt as they stood in line for the Lima Bean. No matter what anyone said, things were definitely awkward between them, especially since they were standing in exactly the same spot in which the events leading to the awkwardness had transpired.<p>

"No. I think I've had enough of home for this week," Kurt said with a smile. He loved seeing the New Directions, but there was only so much of them he could handle, and he had grown less accustomed to their antics during his time at Dalton. "Besides, I don't want to be involved in whatever's going on with Finn, Quinn, Sam, Rachel... whoever." Who was involved in that particular issue now? Kurt couldn't even keep track.

"How would you be involved?" Blaine asked, looking around and seeming satisfied at the removal of the Valentine's Day decorations. The Lima Bean was back to normal. Too bad nothing else was.

"Finn's my step-brother, Quinn and Rachel _both_ come to me for counsel, and because of all those factors, Sam will probably ask me about it too." He couldn't seem to stay out of anything.

"Fair enough." They finally reached the counter after several more minutes of incredibly uncomfortable silence, ordered their coffees, and sat down at the only table available.

"As I live and breath," someone said behind them, and Blaine whipped around, his mouth falling open.

"Oh my God." Kurt looked between the two, trying to figure out what was going on, and decided he had absolutely no idea. "Marcus." Oh G-d, so this was the closest Blaine had to an ex-boyfriend. He wasn't exactly what Kurt had expected. He was tall, an inch or two taller than Kurt, with short, mildly-spiked up blond hair and dark eyes. It wasn't that he wasn't _attractive_, it's just that he wasn't _extremely_ attractive. Oh, and there was the fact that Kurt hated him on sight. That might have been the problem.

"Blaine Anderson," Marcus said with a grin, Blaine standing up so that he could hug him. "How are you?"

"I... Good, good. I haven't see you since..." Blaine trailed off. "You've grown."

"And bulked up some, yeah," Marcus said with a laugh. "Spent some time outside of Columbus, learned a bunch."

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asked as he pulled up a chair for Marcus at their table. Kurt was suddenly the third wheel.

"Well, I decided that the ridiculous artsy college I transferred to for my ex-boyfriend was a little too fruity for me, and I'm here to moonlight at Dalton Academy. I didn't realize you go there." His eyes raked over Blaine's body, and Kurt was certain that Blaine's uniform had absolutely nothing to do why he was looking. "You've certainly grown up."

"Well, you haven't seen me since we were fourteen," Blaine replied, but his cheeks were heating up. "So, you broke up with Brandon?"

"Very true, and yeah. So, if you go to Dalton, I'm guessing you're my number one choice for moonlighting?"

"Moonlighting?" Kurt asked, but it was useless. Neither of them heard him.

"Sure, I would be happy to have you moonlight me." When exactly had that word turned into a euphemism?

"It would give us a chance to get to know each other again," Marcus said, his voice low.

"Right." Blaine cleared his throat, blushing redder. "I... I don't think you've met Kurt yet." Blaine had apparently remembered his existence. "Marcus, this is my best friend and fellow Warbler, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Michael Angus-"

"Yeah, yeah, there're a bunch of names and it's funny," Marcus cut him off with a grin, and Blaine smiled. "You can call me Marcus, everyone does."

"Nice to meet you," Kurt said, trying not to convey how absolutely false that statement was in his tone. It was surprisingly difficult.

"Same, cutie," Marcus said with a grin, and Kurt tried his best to smile in return. "So, what's Dalton like, Blay?" For some reason, the nickname made Blaine blush again.

"It's really great. A hundred thousand million times better than Columbus." Blaine and Marcus exchanged another smile, and Kurt was starting to feel queasy.

"What's moonlighting?" he asked again, and thankfully Blaine heard him this time.

"Have you ever heard of shadowing?" Kurt nodded. No one ever shadowed at McKinley (because if they did they would run away screaming) but Lima Vo-Tech had one-day shadow programs for potential students. "Moonlighting is Dalton's version of shadowing. Potential students stay for a week, including the weekend, with another student, preferably one without a roommate, to really get a feel for Dalton. They go to all of their classes, and their extra curricular activities... it's an amazing experience for those that have the luxury of time."

"And money," Marcus added. "It costs like two thousand dollars to moonlight."

"How did I not know that?" Blaine asked, and Marcus laughed along with him. Seeing the two of them together was close to intolerable. "I'm gonna go get another coffee." Kurt had no idea how Blaine had managed to drink all of his first one (he hadn't seen the tenor take a single sip), but it sounded empty when Blaine threw it out.

"So, you're the newbie, huh?" Marcus asked.

"And by that you mean..." Kurt prompted, taking a sip of his own, untouched until now coffee.

"You're the new guy in love with Blaine." Kurt choked. "Oh, don't act like it's a big surprise that I know," Marcus continued, not even bothering to pound Kurt on the back. Kurt glared at him as he tried to get his breath back. "Not only do you look at him like the sun shines out his ass, and yes, I caught you checking out his ass, but there's always one. One guy who's obsessed with Blaine because he's flirty and loveable. And the other thing I've learned about that one guy is he never seems to have a chance. I'll admit, you're gorgeous," under other circumstances, Kurt would have blushed, but now he just wanted to hit Marcus, "but that doesn't make you different."

"I hate to break it to you, but you don't know Blaine anymore. He's an entirely different person than the lost, scared little boy you experimented with." Saying that made Kurt feel sick again. "He respects himself enough now to wait for a real relationship."

"So I guess that answers my question of whether or not you're a virgin," Marcus said with a laugh. "And I'm not just trying to get into Blay's pants. He's a cool guy, and I already made the mistake of not grabbing onto him when I could, and I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"What mistake?" Blaine asked, coming over with another medium drip himself and some sort of coffee which he placed in front of Marcus.

"Trying to eat a tablespoon of cinnamon. Felt like I was being choked by the Rock." Blaine chuckled as he sat back down. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on me," Blaine said, waving away the cost with a flick of his hand. "Tell me about your artsy school."

Kurt didn't get another word in fro the next hour, and that was just him excusing himself to leave. Marcus drove Blaine back to Dalton two hours later.

* * *

><p>Blaine was happy and humming on Saturday, and Kurt was ready to throttle him. Not only was he getting into a new relationship right in after he had rejected the person who was hopelessly fallen for him, he was practically rubbing it in Kurt's face. Kurt was already sick of it, and it had only been a few hours.<p>

Saturday was widely known as Visiting Day at Dalton, and there were plenty of visitors. All of Charlie's neighbors had vacated their rooms because Lucas was visiting, and Kurt had vacated his because Chrissy was making her first visit to Dalton. It was a tribute to how horribly supervised all the boys at Dalton were that their girlfriends (and boyfriends) made regular appearances in their dorm rooms.

Thus, the only person he had to commiserate with was Wes. Wes and Kurt were sitting in silence on opposite sides of a library table. David was sitting on the other side of the library, behind Kurt. No matter how much they seemed to be fighting, they were also always together.

"Who's making Blaine so happy?" Wes asked him absentmindedly, still looking at David over Kurt's shoulder. "Did the two of you finally get together?" Kurt didn't even bother to tell Wes to be quiet. They were in a corner of the library where the librarian wouldn't bother them, and the whole school wanted Kurt and Blaine to be together at this point. As Charlie would say, the whole school shipped Klaine. Weirdo.

"No. He's reuniting with an almost ex-boyfriend." Kurt knew Blaine would kill him if he called Marcus Blaine's ex-lover. This fact made said action very tempting, but there was enough of a wedge between him and Blaine as it was.

"I'm assuming you mean Marcus, because Charlie's a little busy right now." Normally that would evoke some sort of smile from Wes, but his face was completely blank. It was a face of pure devastation.

"Wes?" Wes made a noise of acknowledgment, his eyes still fixated over Kurt's shoulder. "What's going on with you and David?" Wes' eyes snapped directly to his, and the Head Warbler sighed.

"I made him choose. Either we would be together openly and exclusively, or we would never speak to each other again. And he chose the second option... on Valentine's Day." Kurt gaped at him. That was awful. "So, we're not speaking. Our room is full of weighty silence, we sit at opposite ends of every room, table, or desk we're forced to share, and... I'm still madly in love with him. I always will be." Kurt, clearly having picked up a few habits from Blaine, placed a hand over Wes'. He heard David's throat clear, and Wes chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing," Wes said, shaking his head. "He thinks you're hitting on me." Kurt laughed at that. Wes was so far beyond taken, with a girlfriend _and_ someone he's completely in love with. "Apparently, he gets to be a jealous asshole, even if he's straight."

"He's not straight," Kurt said, confused.

"Try convincing him of that." Wes sighed, and withdrew his hand. "Saturday's are the worst." Wes didn't explain his statement, returning to his homework.

* * *

><p>Everyone seemed to be in a bad mood. When Kurt got back to the room he shared with Chris, it was locked and barricaded, and Chris refused to let him in.<p>

"Hey!" Oh crap. It was Blaine. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you all day." Blaine still sounded upbeat and ridiculously happy, and Kurt wished he could be happy for him. It was one thing when Blaine didn't know he was hurting Kurt, now it was just rude.

"I was in the library, unfortunately in that awkward zone between Wes and David. Where have you been?"

"I went out with Charlie and Lucas, and very much played third wheel so Charlie would buy me ice cream," Blaine said with a laugh. "You know, I didn't like Lucas at first, but he seems really nice. Plus, he makes Charlie a whipped idiot, and that's always fun to see."

"Love makes people do crazy things... as if Charlie needed help." They both laughed at that, but the air between them was still awkward.

"Fair enough. What's going on with Chris?" Blaine asked, jerking his thumb towards the stubbornly closed door.

"Go away!" Chris yelled from inside.

"I haven't the faintest clue," Kurt said, "but this is _exactly_ why I didn't go home, so I'm beginning to regret it."

"Oh, come on," Blaine said, bumping Kurt's shoulder with his as he started to walk down the hall. "You love Dalton."

"I love parts of Dalton," Kurt corrected, and it didn't sound so... pointed in his head, but the silence following his comment was heavy.

"I can see why there are parts that aren't so awesome," Blaine said after a few moments of silence. "I mean, there's always _Charlie_." Kurt wasn't sure why Blaine had said it like that, until he realized he had been so buys looking at Blaine that he hadn't noticed Charlie and Lucas coming down the hall.

"And then there's you," Charlie replied. "That must be it, because I'm completely loveable. Right?" he asked Lucas with a grin.

"Completely," Lucas agreed with a smile, pulling Charlie close and giving him a kiss. "Hey, Kurt, Blaine. How are you guys?"

"Well, we all know how Blaine is, since he crashed our date. Thank you for _that_," Charlie said rather sarcastically.

"Fair enough," Lucas said. "How are you, Kurt?" he asked, letting go of Charlie for just a moment to give Kurt a hug and then sliding his arm around Charlie's shoulders again. They made a cute couple.

"I'm great. How are the Cheerios?"

"Depressed, but getting over it," Lucas said with a shrug. "Coach Sylvester's gone loco though."

"So I've heard," Kurt said with a smile, and explained, "Rachel," at Lucas' raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Rachel. Did she tell you about the Arm Warmers and Reindeer Sweater Revolution?" Lucas asked with a laugh, and Kurt nodded.

"You guys really need me around to keep everything sane, don't you?"

"Oh, like things were sane when you were there!"

"Does it ever feel like _they're_ the couple?" Charlie asked Blaine, and Blaine nodded fervently. "I'm actually feeling like a third wheel to my own boyfriend."

"That makes me fourth wheel?"

"Wanky," Charlie said with a grin.

"_Charlie_," Blaine and Lucas admonished at the same time, then looked at each other and started laughing.

"Oh, great, now I have _two_ stick-asses bothering me about funny comments. See, Kurt, this is what relationships do to you. _Run_!" Charlie said dramatically, shooing Kurt off with his hands.

"You love me," Lucas said with a smile, and he still sounded a little incredulous about it. Lucas leaned down and gave Charlie a kiss, which quickly became an uncomfortable moment for Kurt and Blaine.

"And that is exactly why," Charlie said once they had separated with the sound of a hose being pulled out of a garbage disposal.

"Shut up," Lucas said with a grin.

"Kurt, Blaine, I'm going to drag my boyfriend away and do wicked things to him in the privacy of my dorm. See you guys later." Charlie did exactly as he said, dragging Lucas down the hallway. Kurt was pretty sure he heard Lucas' back make contact with a wall out of sight.

"Idiots," Blaine said fondly. "We should probably walk the other way now."

"Yep."

* * *

><p>Kurt had to crash in Blaine's room that night, since Chris was still refusing to un-barricade the door. Kurt mentally wondered how long it had been since he had eaten. At least twenty-four hours, unless he had food in there. Blaine loaned him some old clothes, which smelled like him and made Kurt feel like a complete creep.<p>

When Kurt woke up, Blaine was still asleep, and _Jacobs_, he was cute. His hair was mussed and curly, his eyelids shifting with REM sleep. His face was completely relaxed, the corners of his mouth turned up in a little smile. His heavy breathing verged on snoring, but Kurt didn't even care. He decided to check on his room before he took up Blaine's shower for an hour, and was surprised to find it not only un-barricaded, not only unlocked, but wide open, Chris completely gone. Kurt chalked it up to typical Dalton craziness and took a shower.

When Kurt got out of the shower, Chris was back, lounging on his bed, playing World of Warcraft on his computer. He was such a closet nerd. "Hey," Chris said casually, as if he hadn't gone into hysterics yesterday. "Sorry 'bout that." Kurt let it go.

"What's up?"

"Chrissy and I had our first huge fight." Chris didn't elaborate, and Kurt didn't push. He didn't know much about relationships, but he really didn't want to get barricaded out of his room again. "Are those Blaine's clothes?"

"He loaned them to me, I slept in his room last night." Chris raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Oh, so you actually _slept_. That's no fun," Chris said with a wane smile, but it was something.

"Yes, because, as I have said many times before, it _is_ possibly for two gay guys to be friends." Kurt knew this was total crap at this point, but he would still claim that to everyone else.

"Not when one's in love with the other and they're both aware of it." Thanfkully, Chris made no case for Blaine being in love with Kurt. The countertenor really didn't want to have that particular argument again.

"We're doing our best," Kurt said with a sigh. Only the presence of other people tempered the awkwardness that had hung between them since the day after Valentine's Day.

"Especially since Blaine's got a new boyfriend?" Kurt looked over at Chris in surprise, ignoring for a moment that his question had no factual basis. "Yes, even locked in this room, I hear things."

"Blaine isn't dating Marcus," Kurt said firmly. He wasn't sure entirely how long that statement would be accurate, but it was at the moment, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Okay. Have fun in Egypt." Kurt huffed.

* * *

><p>"It's weird having Marcus around again," Blaine admitted to him after almost two hours of incredibly awkward silence which Blaine had spent studying and Kurt had spent musing on exactly how awkward it was for them to be spending any time alone together. It was amazing that he got all of his school work done, it really was.<p>

"How so?"

"Well... it's just that... you know what happened between Marcus and I, I told you. But that's really _all_ that happened between Marcus and I. We weren't really friends, at all. I mean, we obviously got to know each other after seeing each other every day for seven months." _Every_ day? "But... I don't know. It's like he's turning what was essentially our joint period of slutiness into some sort of... romance to last the decades, you know?"

"Not really, no," Kurt answered, making Blaine chuckle.

"Fair enough. Like I told you when..." Blaine trailed off. "Anyway, Marcus was _not_ my boyfriend. He was important to me, and that's a portion of my life I'll remember for a long time, but he's not... he's not someone that I think about constantly. I just... I don't really know how to feel about him being here. It's nice to see someone from my past that I'm not terrified of, but Marcus..." Blaine trailed off again, and after about five minutes of silence it became clear that he didn't plan to finish that sentence.

"Clean slate," Kurt said after thinking about it.

"Pardon?"

"Everyone deserves another chance." Not another _romantic_ chance, of course, but that was beside the point. Blaine certainly wasn't thinking about Marcus in that way. "Like you said, he's a figure from your past that you don't hate, maybe he can give you some closure on that part of your life." Blaine looked thoughtful. "You'll never really get over it, but you can certainly move on."

"For someone that hates any sort of philosophy, you are a very wise man, Kurt Hummel," Blaine said with a grin, "and you're right. Marcus and I had some good times, even outside," Blaine didn't even pause, just skipping over the words like a scratched tape, and it'll be nice having him around."

"There's the spirit Besides, it might be nice to have someone sane-ish around Dalton." Blaine grinned.

"Oh, no. Marcus will fit in _excellently_ here."

"Shoot."

Kurt wasn't exactly enthusiastic to have Marcus around, but at least Blaine had made it obvious they weren't rekindling their romance. They were just... getting to know each other again, and Kurt could survive that. Maybe. Besides, Marcus clearly wasn't as much of a threat as he thought he was.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'll be honest with you guys. I really had no idea what to do with Comeback. This idea came to me a while ago, giving Blaine some depth and keeping them perpetually in a state of romantic turmoil (there's a reason for that, I assure you), so enter Marcus. Sorry for the weirdly-short segments in this chapter, I promise that will improve. This is a lot of set-up for coming back.**

**In case anyone is wondering about Marcus, the guy I'm picturing is a Season 4 Warbler that I stole from one of their performances (I don't even remember which). The screenshot I took of him can be found at my Photobucket (my username is heavenhelpmyheart) under Meet the Warblers. FF is being dumb and won't let me put the URL here. ****He is making a very attractive face in this picture. Delete any and all parentheses, and you shall see. I'm sorry it's been a while, guys.**

**Songs mentioned: None. Weird.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	26. Marcus' First Day

"Good morning," Blaine said cheerily as he showed up a little late for breakfast. Marcus was following him, accepting everyone's welcomes with a smile and a few waves. "Sorry I'm late, I had to pick up Marcus at the main office."

"And I was a little late myself," Marcus admitted with a probably-fake, bashful grin. "Nice to see you again... it was Kurt, right?" Kurt smiled and nodded, trying his best to be civil. Marcus damn well knew his name. "Nice to see you again, Kurt."

"Marcus, let's go grab some food," Blaine said, grabbing Marcus' hand and making Kurt's blood boil.

"It bugs you that he's here, doesn't it?" Charlie asked, sitting down next to Kurt as the two walked away, hand-in-hand. "I don't blame you. He's irritating as all hell." Charlie glanced over at the lunch line, where Marcus was saying something that made Blaine laugh. "Plus you must be constantly picturing them having sex." Kurt choked on his orange juice, and Charlie looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"I am _not_-" he began to protest, but Charlie cut him off.

"Right, sorry, innocent mind," Charlie corrected his first thought, dismissing his mistake with a wave of his hand. "Still, it must bug you that he's acting like such an idiot right after you told him you liked him. And before you say anything," Charlie interrupted Kurt's interruption, "yes, he told me. You should know by now that he tells me everything," Charlie said with a wicked grin that made Kurt worry he was plotting.

"It's fine," Kurt lied. "If he doesn't return my feelings, there's nothing either of us can do about that, and I want him to be happy." Even if it was killing him on the inside.

"Bullshit," Charlie announced cheerily. "You're a good person, but you're not selfless, you just got rejected, and _that _ is killing you. Charlie pointed at Marcus and Blaine, turning the gesture into an odd wave when they both looked over. "Here comes the morons, here comes the morons," Charlie sang to the tune of _Here Comes the Bride_ as they approached. "Try not to look too pained."

"So what's on the schedule for today?" Marcus asked Blaine cheerily. Kurt tried to remind himself that it was a first-day tradition for Blaine to have bought Marcus his food. It didn't _mean_ anything.

"AP Gov, French, Religion, and Chemistry." Blaine made a face.

"How's your new lab partner?" Blaine hadn't mentioned anything about who he had been paired up with after Lucifer transferred.

"Better than Eric," Blaine said with a grin, turning to look at Kurt for the first time. "He's a little annoying and he talks a lot-"

"But he doesn't paw at you like a horny dog?" Charlie asked.

"Exactly."

"Improvement."

"Major improvement," Kurt agreed.

"Anything I should be warned about?" Marcus asked, annoyingly directing the conversation and center of attention back to him.

"Mr. Bressler can be a bit... well, you'll see," Blaine flashed Kurt a grin, and he remembered exactly how much the boundary-breaking teacher had shocked him on his first day. Now he was used to it.

"French is boring, so is religion, and chemistry's only fun if you're trying to duck roving hands," Kurt teased and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Very funny. Accurate, but still not funny." Marcus looked back and forth between them, as if he hadn't realized at the coffee shop that they were actually _close_. Kurt couldn't blame him, he hadn't been able to get a word in.

"Don't worry, Mikey-burger, Klaine is always like this," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. Marcus looked at the flamboyant boy in confusion.

"Mikey-burger?"

"Your first name is Michael, and the first of your middle names is a type of meat. Duh." Charlie finally went to get food, and Blaine was trying hard not to laugh.

"I apologize for him. He comes up with weird nicknames for _everyone_. If he ever repeated the one he gave me when I first got to Dalton," Blaine shook his head, "death would seem like mercy."

"Jeez, Blay, calm down. What's with 'Klaine?'" Somehow, putting air quotes around the word Kurt had been growing to like made it less legitimate. Somehow. Plus, Marcus had a cute nickname for Blaine, which was just... awful. Just awful.

"Dalton has this obsession with gay couple names, so whenever two guys are particularly close, they end up with a couple name. Wevid, Neff... actually, now that I think about it, most of those guys end up being couples anyway. Huh." Blaine didn't take that particular conclusion any farther, preferring to eat his food, but Marcus glared at Kurt. Game on.

* * *

><p>Even walking to AP Gov was a power struggle. Blaine was between Marcus and Blaine, and completely oblivious, as usual, chattering on about music and the Warblers, trying to give Marcus some sort of insight as to what he would be facing in the next seven days. Kurt personally found it ridiculous that Marcus was even staying for the weekend, but apparently it was part of getting a feel for the 'student life' on campus. Marcus was even an honorary Warbler. Give him a break.<p>

Marcus was being a complete kiss-butt, and pretended to be admiring every aspect of the school just to keep Blaine talking. Oh, it was _so_ on.

Blaine was saying something about the history of the Dalton building. "Remember all of the students that got killed there?" Kurt teased with a laugh, walking just a little bit closer to Blaine and making Marcus' eyes widen. Thankfully, Blaine got the joke and played along.

"Was it four or five students?" he asked in reply, and Kurt was pretty sure this was the first time he and Marcus had tuned into Blaine's endless rant about the school. He should really be a tour guide.

"I think it might have been even more than that."

"I hope you know we're totally kidding," Blaine said with a chuckle, turning to look at Marcus' horrified face and ruining the joke. "We played a game of Live Clue in the lobby of that building about two weeks ago, so someone 'killed' five students." Moment over.

"Oh. Good. Last time I checked, you're not a murderer. A killer maybe, but not a murderer." Blaine blushed, and that was obviously a euphemism.

"A-anyway, AP Gov's right in here," Blaine pointed to the Clerik building and started in on it's history. At this point, Kurt (who had gotten this lecture on _his_ first day), and Marcus (who was just a rude bastard) stopped listening to Blaine altogether.

"Dear God, how many more flamboyantly homosexual students can this school recruit?" Mr. Bressler asked as they walked in the door, and Marcus gaped some more.

"He does this," Blaine commented absently as he took a seat in the circle next to Kurt. Because Marcus had been late and screwed up their entire schedule for the day (which was well set in stone at this point), Blaine wasn't the first person to AP Gov as he usually was, and Drew pulled another desk into the circle for Marcus. Unfortunately, it put Marcus on the other side of Blaine.

"Anyway, Jeff, you were giving me that answer," Mr. Bressler said, turning to the one desk that was separated from the circle as usual. "What do the political systems of Mexico, Nigeria, and Russia all have in common?"

"Common-law legal systems," Jeff said confidently. Marcus almost jumped out of his seat what Mr. Bressler made a noise frighteningly similar to a sports buzzer. "But I got that answer from Jackson!" Jackson was quiet, but he was known for being smart.

"I bet that was on purpose," Mr. Bressler said with a grin.

"It was," Jackson murmured just loud enough for the whole class to hear. Jeff was glaring at him, and everyone was laughing. "The answer is bicameral legislatures based partly on regions and partly on population."

"Correct. Dammit," Mr. Bressler said as the phone started to ring.

"Jeff, what's got you in such a good mood?" Thad asked with a grin... which kind of made it seem like he already knew.

"Nick's back this morning," Jeff said with a dopey, love-struck grin that immediately earned him teasing from everyone else in the room. Everyone turned to look at Mr. Bressler as he picked up the phone, all of them secretly hoping it was them about to be dismissed.

"Hell-" Mr. Bressler wasn't cut off by anyone, no one would dare. Instead, the phone slipped right out of his hand, and he said a few words teachers weren't allowed to as he went to pick it up... only to have it slip out of his hand again. "Shoot!" he said, a little more appropriately into the receiver. "I have to apologize for my moment of idiocy there," he said to whomever was on the other line, making the class laugh. Mr. Bressler waited for the office secretary to say who was being dismissed. "What if I don't want him to be dismissed?" he asked her, making the class laugh and making a face at her answer. "All right, all right. Thad, the People's Republic of the Warblers is dismissing you." Mr. Bressler always had jokes to make about Wes dismissing Warblers with his near-administrative powers. Unfortunately, some of them had the tendency to be a little unintentionally racist.

As Thad left, Jeff continued to be picked on and glare at Jackson, who was looked a little bit smug. "All right, all right, enough," Mr. Bressler said, quieting the students. "It's too early to be reviewing for the AP Exam, but you guys are too advanced for any of the materials I have prepared. Jeff, pass me that book." No response. "Jeff." When no response followed that one, Mr. Bressler let out a whistle that was eerily reminiscent of Dr. Percival Ulysses Cox.

"Mr. Bressler, I think he's a little bit distracted," Blaine added helpfully.

"Jeff, get your mind out of the gutter!" Mr. Bressler yelled, practically in his ear.

Jeff had no reaction except to say, "Madame Moreau always tells me that." Not one jump, that's how used he was to Mr. Bressler's antics.

"Do you have gutter problems with Madame Moreau?" Mr. Bressler asked, getting a few chuckles, because, yes, the French teacher at Dalton was very young, _very_ pretty, and had a great sense of humor.

"Don't you take Spanish?" Drew asked, making the entire class crack up.

"Le réalité et toi, vous ne vous entendez pas, n'est-ce pas?" Mr. Bressler asked Jeff.

"Didn't we just establish that I take Spanish?" Jeff asked.

"Didn't you just insul-" Jackson began.

"Shh," Mr. Bressler shushed him. "He won't get it for weeks."

"So this is what Catholic schools are like, huh?" Marcus muttered, making Blaine laugh. Shoot, that was actually kind of funny.

* * *

><p>Kurt had to go to Spanish class while Blaine and Marcus were in French, and it was kind of killing him that he didn't know what was going on. Marcus and Blaine had been whispering and passing notes for about twenty minutes of AP Gov, until Mr. Bressler called them on it and embarrassed them so thoroughly, neither of them would probably ever pass notes again, in any class. After that, they just exchanged smiles and looks. It was absolutely nauseating. Kurt would have almost preferred to be with Finn and Rachel at that point.<p>

"¿Qué pasa?" Michael asked, sitting across from his as usual. They weren't doing very much in Spanish lately (when a class reached Spanish IV, there really wasn't much left to do), and they had the choice to either read their assigned novella or just talk. Kurt, who had already read the book during one of the weekends he had spent at home, was talking with Michael, mostly about colleges. "Pareces molesto."

"Estoy bien."

"Incluso yo sé que eso es mentira," Michael said with a laugh. His Spanish was definitely improving. "Siempre que dices que 'estás bien', quieres decir exactamente lo contrario. ¿Es esto sobre Blaine?"

"¿Por qué todo tiene que ser siempre sobre Blaine?"

"¿A la defensiva? Sólo estoy preguntando. Cuando gente de nuestra edad está molesta es, usualmente, por asuntos amorosos," Michael pointed out, and he had a point.

"¿Lo viste, no?"

"Marcus? Oh, sí. No va a estar por aquí por mucho rato."

"El hecho que esté _aquí _sólo por una semana no es lo que me preocupa," Kurt corrected. "El hecho que puede que él esté por más de una semana... eso es más preocupante."

"Claro, porque Blaine ama a tipos que lo tratan como basura y lo objetivizan," Marcus rolled his eyes. "Por favor, Kurt, para la mierda."

"Seguro que están entretenidos flirteando en el lenguaje más romántico que existe," Kurt said with a sigh, trying not to picture the French class just across the hall. "Estúpido francés."

"Relájate, Marcus es un idiota y Blaine es mucho más inteligente que eso."

"Claro."

* * *

><p>Kurt wasn't entirely sure how this seating arrangement had happened, but he was very pleased about it. He was pretty sure it was some master-minded plan of Charlie's. He was grateful, considering Blaine was sitting between him and Charlie and Marcus was on the other side of Charlie. The grinning sneak had turned towards Blaine, pointedly shutting Marcus out of the conversation. Marcus kept trying to lean around him to be involved.<p>

"I swear, we do so much in French it's ridiculous, and you guys do absolutely nothing in Spanish."

"To be fair," Kurt argued, "if I were in French, I would have nothing to do."

"Basically, you just suck." Kurt smiled. Blaine didn't mean that.

"Would you two stop flirting for like five seconds?" Charlie asked in his usual, not-really-annoyed tone. Kurt tried to ignore the way Blaine shifted a little at the comment. "Neff over there is bad enough."

"Shut up, Charlie," Nick replied. He had obviously heard Charlie, but nether of them seemed to care. They were so intertwined, they _really_ didn't need two chairs.

"Seriously, Valentine's Day is _over_. The school is back to it's normal color," they had finally re-painted Dalton during the weekend, "can love _please_ be gone from the air?"

"Says the one who's so ridiculously in love with his boyfriend that he turns into a completely different person around him," Blaine teased with a smirk, and Charlie sighed.

"Just because I love Lucas, doesn't mean I can't tool on you... and everyday the words come a little easier," Charlie said with a very fake put-upon sigh.

"You'll be all right, Charlie," Blaine said sarcastically. "This is something you may never have again." That comment sounded a little far-off, like Blaine's mind was somewhere else.

"It's definitely something I've never had _before_." Those words were very pointed, and seemed to draw Blaine back into the conversation.

"Right." What were they talking about?

"And you say _we're_ esoteric," Kurt commented, hoping he had gotten the word right. Charlie, for all his raunchy tendencies, had an excellent and well-bred vocabulary.

"Sorry," Blaine said with a little smile, turning to look at Kurt, "but you can't know everything."

"I'll tell you later," Charlie stage-whispered conspiratorially with a little wink, and judging by the amount of pain that suddenly registered on his face, Blaine had stepped on his foot with quite a bit of force. "_Ow_," Charlie commented a little indignantly.

The next sound in their little group was the sound of choking. "And Wevid strikes once again?" Michael asked softly from the other side of Kurt, turning to look at where Marcus was spitting out pepper-laced Gatorade.

"Wes isn't here," Blaine replied.

"I haven't seen David all day," Kurt added, because David was supposed to be in his Spanish class.

"I wonder who then." Kurt shrugged. He didn't particularly care, though he _would_ like to know who to send the fruit basket to.

"Come on, Marcus, we'll grab you a new drink," Blaine said, standing up despite Charlie's sudden protests and walking off with Marcus.

"Awesome."

* * *

><p>Kurt had religion class with Blaine, and subsequently with Marcus. Usually it was one of the classes he looked forward to, considering he didn't have a lot of classes with Blaine, and interesting conversations always happened during religion. On that particular Monday, it was a curse.<p>

"Hey," Griffin said as he sat down unexpectedly next to Kurt. "Nice to meet you," he said casually to Marcus, who nodded and continued to talk with Blaine about what to expect from this class. "Does he have a name, and is he always this rude?"

"Marcus, and yes." Griffin chuckled.

"You seem steamed, and I noticed your roommate's not helping out, so I'm homicide-protection today." Griffin was kidding, hopefully.

"I'm not going to _kill_ him," Kurt objected. "Maybe if there _did_ happen to be a pack of hungry, rabies-infected wolves around..." Griffin was chuckling.

"So, how does kiss-up over there know your boyfriend?"

"I don't even want to talk about it," Kurt answered, ignoring that Griffin had referred to Blaine as his boyfriend. A lot of people did as of late.

"I wonder what they're talking about," Griffin thought aloud, placing his books on the desk next to Kurt's. Apparently, he had taken Kurt's lack of rejection as an invitation to sit next to him, and Kurt really didn't feel like arguing. Chris was talking to his basketball friends, probably moaning about his argument with Chrissy.

"Probably about how _beautiful_ Marcus thinks Dalton is and how much he _loves_ spending time with Blaine again," Kurt said. He was officially a member of the Too Young to Be Bitter Club. Drat. Griffin laughed.

"Should we give them something to talk about?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I suppose I appreciate it, in a roundabout way, but I'm not-"

"That's not quite what I meant. Who do you think put pepper in fish-face's Gatorade?" he asked with a grin.

"Seriously?" Kurt asked in surprise, because that was kind of... well, sweet. In a vengeful sort of way.

"While it kind of sucks to see him treating you so crappily when I could be treating you so much better," Griffin managed to say it so casually, and wow... was this what Blaine felt like? It couldn't be, "it's also kind of pissing me off that he's a douchebag," he thankfully gestured towards Marcus and not Blaine. "So, yeah."

"Thanks? I guess," Kurt decided on.

They were going through the order of the mass for the rest of the class period, Ms. Kay occasionally stopping herself mid-sentence and beginning with a completely unrelated story. So, it was a normal religion class, but Kurt couldn't focus.

If Blaine felt the same way about Kurt that Kurt himself did about Griffin, that would completely explain why he's trying to push Kurt away in the form of Marcus... but that couldn't be true. He and Blaine were best friends, he hardly knew Griffin. It had to be different, right?

* * *

><p>These were the thoughts he presented to Chris during English, another period that he spent separated from Marcus and the focus of his thoughts, but all his musings earned him was a smack upside the head. "Watch the hair!" was his first exclamation, followed by, "Ow! Christopher!"<p>

"I'm sorry, but that's what idiocy deserves." Chris rolled his eyes, and it wasn't for the first time. "Griffin's a cool guy, but he's kind of a... is there a gay equivalent of a womanizer?"

"Man-eater works." Technically, that was a term for girls, but it meant the same thing.

"Yeah. Griffin always talks smooth, and he probably figures you're kind of vulnerable right now. You're pretty much the man-eater jackpot: a vulnerable, rejected, insecure virgin. I mean, come _on_." Chris rolled his eyes. Again.

"I am not insecure!" Kurt argued, even though he knew it was pointless.

"Right. Because self-confident people eat like birds and bemoan the state of their everything in front of the mirror in the mornings. Yes, I can hear you." Kurt pinked. What happened to Dalton having relatively thick walls?

"Griffin was trying to play me?"

"No, I don't think so. He can be a good guy. I think he was just trying to take advantage of a bad situation." That sounded like exactly the same thing, and it definitely didn't make him sound like a 'good guy.' "I'll kick his ass for you, if you want."

"No thanks," Kurt said with a sigh, getting more and more used to the offers.

"Just because Blaine's the world's biggest idiot, it doesn't mean you make him uncomfortable or he doesn't want to hang out with you. So, just chill, and stop over-analyzing this whole Marcus thing. Whatever it is, it'll blow over, maybe even before he leaves."

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you."

"I'll start talking about Chrissy again if you don't."

"I swear on all that is holy."

"And by that, you mean weird fashion designers and antiquated pop stars?"

"But of course."

* * *

><p>Kurt had mixed feelings about the day being over. On one hand, he only had to deal with Marcus if he chose to seek out Blaine. On the other, his mental images drove him crazy (in every way but the one Charlie would suspect), and he <em>wanted<em> to talk to Blaine. Crap.

Kurt knocked hesitantly on Blaine's dorm room door. Blaine's room was rarely shut and _never_ locked, but he didn't want to barge right in. That was just rude.

Apparently, Blaine had been waiting right inside the door, because it swung open almost immediately. "Hey," Blaine said, his face lighting up with a grin as soon as he realized it was Kurt. See, that's something that would never happen if Griffin knocked on his door. Most likely, Chris would beat him up.

"Hey. Where's your Siamese twin?" Kurt tried not to sound too bitter. Either it worked, or Blaine was just oblivious enough for his own good.

"He's taking a shower and changing. The uniform isn't exactly his favorite thing yet. I told him it would grow on him and he had some sassy comment about poisonous plants." Blaine shrugged.

"Since you're charge-free, do you want to grab some coffee?" Finally, a chance to get Blaine away from the nuisance.

"Sure. Hey, Marcus!" he suddenly yelled, making Kurt jump a little. "I'm headed out, be back soon." Thankfully, Blaine didn't say when or with whom. Judging by what Marcus had already done over the course of the day, the moment he heard Kurt's name, he would jump out of the bathroom (state of decency disregarded) and insist on following them.

"So how did your first day with a moonlighter go?" Kurt asked innocently, as if he hadn't been there for half of it.

"It was good," Blaine answered hesitantly after he had thought about it for a moment. "There was some... tension, I guess, between Marcus and just about everyone else, but I think it will be fine. Dalton, for all it's friendly atmosphere, sometimes doesn't adjust to change so well."

"Sometimes you talk about Dalton like the school is a living organism," Kurt teased.

"Side effect of being a closet nerd," Blaine replied automatically with a smile. "You're had to deal with the Star Wars marathons."

"I thought we were never mentioning that again."

"So be it."

By the time they reached the nearest cafeteria that had an espresso machine, it felt like Marcus was just a dim memory. Blaine and Kurt were talking and laughing like they had since they'd met, and even the awkwardness that had been in the air during the week since Valentine's Day was mostly gone.

"So why were you talking to Griffin earlier?" Blaine asked, but his tone wasn't very casual. Kurt didn't know exactly what it was, but it _definitely_ wasn't casual.

"Griffin came to talk to me," Kurt answered with a shrug. "Apparently I looked lonely."

"You were with us."

Kurt attempted to reply something that conveyed exactly how much that sentence made him sound like a third wheel, and exactly how true that sentiment had been over the course of the day, but he decided against it at the last minute. "I didn't say his assessment was accurate."

"He's kind of annoying, isn't he?" Blaine asked, and his tone sounded almost... jealous? but something else had caught Kurt's eye.

It was Neff. They were no longer so entwined that they could fit on one seat with little difficulty. Now they were sitting across from each other at a table that was very familiar to Kurt (it took him a few seconds too long to realize it was the table he and Blaine had sat at during his very first visit to Dalton), and Jeff was staring at Nick uncomprehendingly.

Kurt elbowed Blaine and pointed, so the tenor shut up and handed Kurt his coffee (which Blaine had already made, knowing that Kurt's second favorite drink was easily made by the machine. How sweet). They took their seats at a table not directly next to the obviously feuding couple, but still close enough that they could hear their conversation in the nearly-empty cafeteria.

"I don't understand," Jeff said, sounding distraught, and Nick's expression was guilty.

"I know, but-"

"We've been together since... since..." Jeff was obviously at a loss, and Nick looked even guiltier.

"Jeff, you know how much I love you, but this isn't going to work."

"_No_," Blaine whispered, and Kurt smacked his arm. Apparently, the concept of eavesdropping was lost on him.

"Why isn't it going to work?" Jeff demanded, and he was starting to sound angry. "What's so different now than it was a week ago? A month ago? A year ago? Why don't you love me as much today as you did yes...ter...day," Jeff broke the word up into syllables as if something had occurred to him. "Nick, why haven't you been at school recently?"

"Jeff, please don't make this any harder than it has to be." Jeff looked like he was fighting a smile. Pervert.

"Is this about your parents?" Jeff asked once he had composed himself. Kurt had no idea what the deal with Nick's parents was, but Blaine made a little noise of understanding.

"Jeff-"

"Nick, if they didn't take very well to the idea of _us_, we can talk to them!" Jeff sounded so naive, but so hopeful.

"Jeff, please." Nick was tearing up, and he sounded so broken. "You've met my family, they're the most pig-headed arrogant assholes on the planet."

"And it's apparently hereditary," Jeff snapped.

"Jeff..." Nick said imploringly.

"Nick, I'm not going to give up on this just because your parents don't approve," Jeff said coldly. "Hell, _tell_ them we broke up, I don't care, but this _isn't_ going to happen." Jeff went to reach for Nick's hand (apparently, that was a Dalton thing, rather than a Blaine thing), but Nick pulled it away.

"Jeff, please don't make this so... difficult," Nick corrected the mistake before it happened. "You know I love you, and I always will, but we just.. can't be together. Not like that."

"You still haven't given me one good reason why not!" Jeff started out speaking at a normal volume, but he had to yell the rest of the sentence, because Nick was already walking away.

"Wow," Blaine muttered once Nick had left.

"You guys are _terrible_ at subtle, you know that?" Jeff demanded, turning in his chair to look at each of them in turn. "Seriously," he continued as he stood up. "Just awful." Just before Jeff left, he turned back around. "And if either of you see Nick before I do, tell him there's no way I'm giving up on us that easily."

"That was quite a dramatic exit," Blaine commented once the door had closed behind Jeff.

"Dramatic scene, all in all," Kurt said fake-loftily, and Blaine nodded. They took simultaneous sips of coffee.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Kurt had to return Blaine to a very-annoyed and left-alone-for-too-long-according-to-his-standards Marcus. Kurt couldn't see how Blaine wasn't getting annoyed by Marcus' attitude, but he was apologetic instead of angry. This, of course, only made Kurt angry, when he had previously been happy, and made Marcus very happy. It was a vicious cycle.<p>

Kurt returned to his room, nodding to his roommate, who was staring at his phone, possibly waiting for Chrissy to call him or trying to get up the nerve to call her. Kurt still had absolutely no idea what their fight was about or who was mad at whom, so he decided not to comment.

Sadly, it was not Chris' phone that started ringing, but his own. He knew whom it would be before he even picked it up. "Hello, Rachel."

"_Mercedes is going down!_" she yelled into the phone as soon as she realized it was there, and he pulled the phone several inches from his ear before replying.

"Pardon?"

"_Oh, I'm sure she's told you all about how she thinks she's better than me and the only reason I get my rightfully-deserved solos is because Mr. Schuester favors my tone of voice over her 'chocolate thunder'... whatever _that_ means!_"

"What happened?" Kurt asked with a sigh. Mercedes and Rachel had been secretly feuding about who was really the best singer, and Kurt would bet everything in his bank account on who had brought this particular argument into the open. Sue Sylvester.

"_Miss Sylvester,_" jackpot, "_told me that Mercedes thinks she's better than me and that we should have it out to find out who _really_ deserves my solos. So we are. Tomorrow during Glee, Mercedes and I are having the New Directions' first _Diva-off." Rachel already sounded triumphant, and the competition hadn't even happened yet.

"Have fun." This would blow over eventually... hopefully. "Did anything happen that I might be interested in?"

"_The boys, minus my... Finn,_" Rachel had been about to call Finn her boyfriend, Kurt knew, "_banded together and joined Sam's 'The Justin Beiber Experience,' and performed _Somebody to Love_ today. It was... surprisingly entertaining._"

"Dear Jacobs, _please_ tell me you don't have Beiber fever."  
>"<em>Oh, Kurt, you'll catch it,<em>" Rachel replied, using her 'I'm so sage' voice. "_I'll send you the video._"

"Much appreciated." Blaine would love this.

"_What's going on at Dalton?_" Kurt could tell her everything, rant at her about Blaine and Marcus and Chris and Charlie and all the couples that seemed to be on the verge of Splitsville recently, but she would never understand. It was weird to realize that what school he was attending really did place the divide between him and the New Directions. He would never understand why Justin Beiber songs were working on Quinn and Rachel, and she would never understand why all the boys here acted the way they did.

"Nothing of interest," Kurt lied.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter, Marcus' first day at Dalton, very much mirrors Kurt's first day, which was kind of fun for me to write.**

**Unfortunately, I have been at a business conference for much of the time between last update and this one, sans my personal computer. So, I apologize for the wait. We have two to three more chapters of Comeback, and then Marcus goes away (i.e. the moment we've all been waiting for). So, that's already in production. More real soon.**

**Songs mentioned:  
><strong>'_Somebody to Love_' by Justin Beiber

**Reviews are Love.**


	27. Marcus' Serenade and Subsequent Shutdown

The only class Kurt had to share with the focus of his thoughts and the accompanying nuisance on Tuesday was physics, and for that he was incredibly grateful. Not only was Marcus' expression of complete bewilderment during the advanced class entertaining, but he wouldn't have to deal with Blaine's moonlighter after first period. Not even listening to Chris talk about Chrissy could be worse than listening to Marcus fawn over Blaine pathetically. Plus, he had plenty of classes with Charlie that day, and the crazy boy always managed to keep him entertained, whether it be with his comments or his jokes or his in-class pranks.

Of course, there was always the constant nagging thought that there was no one keeping Marcus and Blaine _apart_, and judging by how close they had been at breakfast that morning, that wasn't exactly a good thing. Not that Blaine was completely tactless enough for PDA, but, well... Marcus and Blaine had gone into Blaine's room after dinner and hadn't come out until breakfast. Thoughts about what might have happened or been said during that twelve or so hours haunted Kurt, and it was even worse when he hadn't talked to Blaine all day. Wes, clearly lonely without David, had monopolized Blaine throughout breakfast, talking about the Warblers practice set for right after school.

The fact that they were alone as possible _now_ was also tormenting him, but no flirty note could be worse than twelve hours alone. After all, Marcus and Blaine had-

Charlie let out a whistle so ear-splitting that it actually interrupted Kurt's train of thought as they headed from one class to the next. Kurt couldn't remember what class he was headed to, he was so preoccupied, but luckily he apparently had it with Charlie. "Earth to Kurt. The more you worry about Blaine and Marcus, the more crazy you're driving yourself. Soon you'll be like me."

"Thank you for that extremely disturbing thought," Kurt replied automatically, but Charlie had a point. He wouldn't see Blaine until lunch, and he had no idea when he might get to talk to Blaine alone. Marcus was his _constant_ companion. Kurt almost wished he had moonlighted Blaine before coming to Dalton, because he seemed way more concerned with amusing his guest than paying attention to anyone else.

* * *

><p>Marcus had managed to place himself between Kurt and Blaine during lunch, and for the entirety of the period, Kurt couldn't see Marcus' left hand. He was using his right one to eat, but his left one was under the table, and all sorts of images of where it might actually be had occurred to him. Needless to say, he hadn't actually eaten very much... much to Charlie's annoyance.<p>

He knew there was no chance of getting to talk to Blaine during Warbler's practice (Wes had very firm policies), but it was the next time he would see Blaine, and at that point, that was enough. Plus, he and Blaine had a standing not-date for coffee after every rehearsal, and if Marcus messed up that tradition for him, Kurt wasn't above throttling Blaine's ex.

Thus, Kurt was practically skipping on his way to Warbler's practice, and Charlie was rolling his eyes, using every term and phrase for 'whipped' that he could come up with. Kurt really couldn't have cared less. When he and Charlie opened the dramatic double doors, being two of the first people to arrive at rehearsal, Blaine and Marcus were sitting on a couch. Blaine smiled when the two of them walked in, patting the empty seat on the opposite side of him from Marcus. "Bet I can beat you to that seat," Charlie muttered as they walked over to Blaine and Marcus, but Kurt knew he wouldn't dare.

"Hey," he said instead of answering Charlie, sitting down next to Blaine and loving the way the couch was just a little bit too small for three people... even if one of those people was Blaine.

"Hey. How was your day?" Blaine asked, turning towards Kurt a little bit and effectively shutting Marcus out of the conversation.

"Incredibly long," Kurt answered. "And terribly boring."

"So, average?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, you too are just so exciting," Charlie said sarcastically from an armchair. "And Kurt, your day was _not_ boring. You spent it with me!"

"Charlie... you're only in one of his classes, and I'm in that class too..." Blaine said, sounding more amused than confused. Wait, what?

"Yeah, yeah, so I didn't _exactly_ feel like going to _my _classes today. I went to _someone's_ classes. That totally counts!" That explained... a lot, really.

"How have you not gotten kicked out of this school yet?"

"My dad has a _lot_ of money." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Hello, everyone," Wes said, heading straight to the desk of the council and not bothering to look and see how many people he was addressing (not very many. Besides the four of them, there were some freshman, including Clayton, Nick, who was looking out the window and not paying attention to anyone, and Thad's little brother, who was sitting with the freshman). Surprisingly, Wes placed his binder at the middle seat. Usually while David and Wes were fighting, they would sit on opposite sides of poor Thad. "I hope you're all ready for a rigorous day. We have a performance to watch and then we will be discussing the details for our impromptu performance of _The Remedy_."

"You really don't know the definition of the word impromptu, do you Wes?" Charlie asked with a sigh, voicing Kurt's frequent thought.

"I know it's impossible for an a cappella choir to be truly spontaneous without sounding sloppy," Wes answered coldly, "and that is quite enough knowledge for me, Charles."

"_Oh_, busting out the full names, are we?" It wasn't Charlie. It was the kind of comment Kurt expected from Charlie and it came from Charlie's general direction, but Charlie hadn't said it. Charlie _had_ opened his mouth to say something else, but he shut it quickly.

"Undermining me in front of the club now?" Wes asked coldly.

"I didn't _undermine_ you," David argued. "And the club's not here."

"You certainly undermined my feelings for you, and you damn well undermined yours for me by claiming that they don't exist," Wes argued haughtily in what was closer to a stage whisper than an actual whisper, taking a seat.

"Well I'm sorry not all of us can be bisexual, Wes, but-"

"While I love listening to you two argue," Charlie drawled, "and trust me, I really do, perhaps you should save this particularly conversation for later... unless you _want_ to have it out in front of all of the Warblers." He pointed down the hall at the mob approaching.

"Perfect timing," Wes said, standing up as David sat down beside him. Very maturely, David slid his chair as far away from the middle as he could while ensuring it was in fact under the desk. "This meeting is called to order," Wes declared, banging the gavel as the mob started entering, and the Warblers rushed to their seats. "Our first order of business is a performance."

"Wes, our first order of business should be the minutes of the previous meeting," Thad corrected. David, with a triumphant smile, opened his mouth to begin.

"We agreed to incorporate informal performances, we noted _Dynamite_ by Taio Cruz and _Love Like Woe_ by The Ready Set for future impromptu performances, and we decided on Junior Warbler Kurt Hummel's suggestion of _The Remedy _by Jason Mraz for our performance tomorrow, _which_ we will not have time to rehearse for if David reads all of the minutes. Any dissent?" Wes talked rapid-fire fast and didn't let his... David get a word in edge-wise. Silence followed his icy question. "Excellent," he declared after a minute of silence, banging his gavel three times. "On to our performance. Junior Warbler pro tem Michael Angus McIntyre L'Abbe, you have the floor." _What_?

"Hey everyone," Marcus said as he stood up, and Blaine looked equally surprised and horrified. "My name's Michael... well, you just heard them all, but everyone can call me Marcus. And I have a song to sing today for someone very special to me, whom I've been moonlighting for the past two days, and I thought the Warblers would be a perfect time to sing a little song for him. So..." Marcus pulled a guitar from behind the couch (that bastard), and sat down on the arm next to where he had been sitting, balancing the guitar carefully.

_**I'd love to know just what you're thinkin'  
><strong>__**Every little river, runnin' through your mind  
><strong>__**You give and you take, you come and you go  
><strong>__**You leave me here wonderin' if I'll ever know  
><strong>__**How much you care, or how much you don't  
><strong>__**Whatever you need, whatever you want**_

Kurt recognized the song immediately, and unfortunately, it was one of those songs that sounded even sweeter acoustically. Marcus had an amazing voice for country, smooth and deep and absolutely irresistible. Kurt hated him for it. Marcus kept looking over and smiling at Blaine, who smiled back every time, a little pink.

_**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's mistake  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's first time  
><strong>__**Somebody's last time, baby, be mine**_

The lyrics were very pointed, especially because Marcus kept looking over at Kurt and smirking. Clearly, Marcus hadn't actually taken their seven months of... 'joint slutiness,' as Blaine had deemed it, much more seriously than Blaine had. He just wanted to start something more real... at least, that was the message Kurt was getting. Though he did wink at Blaine as he sang 'first time.' Speaking of Blaine, he hadn't looked away from Marcus since he started singing, and he was definitely blushing now, looking completely flattered.

_**If you're lookin' to be somebody's 'just friends'  
><strong>__**A little laughin', little lovin'  
><strong>__**Never callin' again, that's just fine  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**Be mine, yeah, oh, be mine**_

It was very obvious what Marcus was trying to get across, and at the same time Kurt had absolutely no idea what Marcus was implying. Did he want what he had with Blaine before again? Did he want to date Blaine? Did he even like Blaine? The only thing Kurt was absolutely sure of was that the message of Marcus' song was 'pick me over him.' That much was excruciatingly clear.

_**I guess that all I'm tryin' to tell ya  
><strong>__**Is a minute with you is better than two without  
><strong>__**Oh, I won't be a fool, but I can't play it cool  
><strong>__**So I'm playin' safe, and I'm breakin' the rules  
><strong>__**I'm wishin' I had what I know that you got  
><strong>__**So if you're comin' my way, then please don't stop**_

_**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's mistake  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's first time  
><strong>__**Somebody's last time, baby, be mine**_

_**If you're lookin' to be somebody's 'just friends'  
><strong>__**A little laughin', little lovin'  
><strong>__**Never callin' again, that's just fine  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**Be mine, oh, woah**_

The short instrumental interruption sounded much more awkward with just a single guitar, but unfortunately the Warblers were very music-savvy, and they were beginning to fill in some of the other parts in a cappella style as Marcus did what he could with an acoustic guitar. Blaine looked ridiculously impressed.

_**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**or somebody's mistake  
><strong>__**Somebody's first time, or their last time, baby be mine  
><strong>__**If you're lookin' to be somebody's 'just friends',  
><strong>__**A little laughin', little lovin'  
><strong>__**Never callin' again, that's just fine  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak  
><strong>__**Be mine**__ (If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak)  
><em>_**Be mine **__(If you're gonna be somebody's mistake)  
><em>_**Oh, I'll take my chances**_

The Warblers (including Blaine) were even singing along now, absolutely entranced by Marcus' voice and ridiculous stage presence (for Pete's sake, he didn't even have a _stage_!). Thankfully, at this point, Blaine looked away from Marcus, looking over at Kurt and smiling. Blaine squeezed his knee briefly, than went back to watching Marcus. That was enough to calm him infinitesimally (Charlie was rolling his eyes at everyone. Of course).

_**If you're gonna be someone's heartbreak  
><strong>__**If you're gonna be someone's mistake  
><strong>__**Somebody's first time, somebody's last time  
><strong>__**Be mine, oh, be mine, be mine  
><strong>__**Baby, baby, baby, be mine, all mine  
><strong>__**If you're gonna break someone's heart, yeah  
><strong>__**Might as well, might as well be mine**_...

"Bravo," Wes announced, the first to stand up in the standing ovation Marcus got (well, with the exception of Kurt and Charlie, who were protesting Marcus' absurdity, and Nick, who was off in his own little world). "You have an amazing voice, Marcus, and you would be more than welcome among the Warblers if you decided to come to Dalton."

"Maybe you could even be my co-captain," Blaine teased as he sat back down and Marcus slid into his seat, storing the guitar back behind the couch. There was now an inch between Kurt's thigh and Blaine's... which meant they were pressed _very_ close together over there. Kurt seethed.

"Must. Not. Commit. Homicide," Charlie muttered in his ear. "I'm your conscience, in case you were wondering."

"I got that," Kurt gritted out, because could Marcus _be_ any more _awful_? He showed up, shocking Blaine and bringing back all sorts of memories that probably weren't very pleasant for Kurt's best friend... yes, he was _Kurt's_ best friend, dammit. Then he decided that he was crashing the Dalton scene for a week. On his first day he doesn't get along with anyone because he's a prick, and the next everyone loves him because he has a chocolate-silky voice that's absolutely dream worthy? How fickle and stupid could people be?

"Our next order of business," Wes continued, banging his gavel to quiet the uproar of the Warblers over Marcus' sub-par performance, "is the impromptu performance. After listening to the karaoke track several times, I have determined we will be performing Jason Mraz's _The Remedy_ in ten-part harmony." A few Warblers whistled. That was difficult to pull off in a day, and Wes would never try it under normal circumstances.

"Eight-part harmony would work just as well," David said, standing up next to Wes, "and would probably be a lot easier to accomplish, seeing as the performance is tomorrow." Oh no.

"Some people don't back down in the face of a challenge, David," Wes said coldly. Not again. They were _not _having this fight again, not in front of the Warblers.

"You're right, Wes," David said, surprisingly calmly. "Some people accept the facts at hand and choose the path that's realistic rather than the path built up on their own expectations of someone... or several someones," he added quickly, gesturing to the Warblers for the sake of those who still didn't know what the discussion was really about.

"Well, maybe people like that ought to learn that they shouldn't _start_ on the path built on their expectations if they aren't willing to follow through to the end," Wes said sharply.

"Wes, we were-"

"We haven't started on any path," Charlie said loudly, cutting off David. "And unless you two shut up and decide on something, we won't have the chance to." Charlie was definitely talking about the performance, with a small jibe to their personal problems. "Thad, I believe you're the deciding vote." Poor Thad. David and Wes, both still standing, turned to look at him expectantly. Did he know?

"I think with this song ten-part harmony would sound best, plus the Warblers can definitely pull it off," he said hesitantly, and Wes' face lit up in a triumphant smile.

"Thank you, Thad. Finally, someone who's not afraid to go with what's best, even if it sounds a little scary at first." Wes pulled out the sheet music marked with ten part harmonies. It had to be at least twenty pages long.

"Wes-"

"David," Thad said sharply. "It's been decided." Thad, judging on this, probably didn't know anything. Unlucky him.

"Fine," David said through gritted teeth, sitting down. Wes handed the sheet music to Thad with a little smug smile.

* * *

><p>"Oh, come on!"<p>

Marcus, Blaine, and Kurt (in that order) were headed back to their dorms after their post-rehearsal coffee (Marcus had insisted on coming, which ruined the tradition anyway, since the conversation was stilted and mostly started by Blaine. Kurt and Blaine didn't dare discuss what was happening between Wes and David, which meant Blaine didn't trust Marcus. That was the only bright spot). They all stopped for a moment at the yell (which was clearly David's), turning down the corridor that headed towards Charlie's dorm and the joint dorm of Wevid.

Speaking of Wes and David's dorm, it now looked more like _Wes'_ dorm, since all of David's stuff was piled in front of the door. Wes had even attached a pair of David's underwear to a wooden pole and flown it at the top. It wasn't a very... covering pair of underwear. Apparently, Wes had a rather nasty vengeful streak. Definitely something to remember. "Let me in," David yelled at the locked door.

"Doesn't he have a key?" Marcus asked.

"It's probably in there. Since they're almost always together and David has a tendency to lose things, Wes is usually the one who remembers to bring the key and lets them both into the dorm. If David forgot today..." Blaine didn't finish the sentence. Even Marcus wasn't that dumb.

"What are they fighting about anyway?" Marcus asked.

"Probably better not to ask," Blaine said with a sigh, walking down the hallway towards David. "Good going," he said to David.

"It's not my fault that he's gone crazy."

"David, come _on_. This is Wes we're talking about. You've known him forever-"

"Dude-"

"And the one thing we _all_ know about him is that you never, _ever_ challenge him during rehearsal. No matter what crazy thing he's said or decided on. You always ask him about it later. That's just one of the cardinal rules of the Warblers, and you broke it."

"He was talking crazy!"

"So were you." Blaine sighed. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to see if today is your lucky day." Blaine walked back down the hallway, and it was clear Marcus was about to object to adding a third person to their dorm (Kurt hated calling Blaine's dorm that. He really, really did), but instead Blaine hammered on Charlie's door. "Open up."

"_No_!"

"Charlie..."

"I feel no sympathy!"

"Charlie!"

"_No_." Sometimes Charlie whined just like a little kid.

"Come on, Charlie. If it comes to it, he can be my roommate as soon as Marcus leaves." There was a great, heaving sigh on the other side of the still-closed door, but Charlie opened it.

"Fine, but I do _not_ feel bad for you," he said firmly to David, who looked like awfully pitiful carrying a good portion of his possessions. "You brought this on yourself."

"I know," David said with a sigh, and Charlie groaned.

"Come in." Charlie walked out, and Blaine seemed about to yell at him again, but he grabbed some more of David's stuff and brought it into his dorm. "I hate you for this," he said to Blaine as he walked back through the door.

"I know," Blaine said with a smile, going to grab some of David's stuff himself.

Between the five of them, they quickly got David moved into Charlie's dorm. The last thing in front of Wes' door was the flagpole with the rather... skimpy pair of underwear on it. David wasn't looking at them, preferring his view of the floor, and Charlie was smirking. "We are _so_ not bringing those into my room," he announced, walking back into it. Everyone kind of looked at each other, wondering what to do with them instead, but Charlie walked back out of the room with a tack, pulled the pair of underwear off the flagpole, and stuck them to Wes' door. "Much better," he said, looking at his work of art approvingly. Then he sighed. "Come on, roomie," he said to David. He made sure to kick Blaine was he walked by. The door closed behind the two of them.

"Well, that's my good deed for the day," Blaine announced, and the trio headed back towards their dorms.

* * *

><p>It was the first impromptu performance that Kurt was going to be a part of, and he woke up in the morning feeling rather happy for the first time that week. Yes, Marcus had serenaded Blaine in rehearsal and it went ridiculously well, but today they were putting Marcus outside the screen door. Since nobody really wanted to argue with Wes yesterday (with the exception of David, who had paid the price), Blaine hadn't tried to have Marcus incorporated into the number. So, Marcus would just be a spectator, one of many. Plus, <em>The Remedy<em> wasn't nearly as romantic as _Teenage Dream_.

"For someone who's in love with an asshole who seems to be trying to cultivate a relationship with someone else, you're awfully smiley this morning," Chris commented. He was begrudgingly awake, and he had already taken his second shower of the morning (since Dalton guys were classier than normal guys, they showered _before_ morning sports practices, and then again _after_ morning sports practices. It was wonderful).

"The Warblers are doing an impromptu performance at break, so they'll only be one class today, all the rest will be canceled," he told his roommate, who brightened up considerably.

"Awesome. That still doesn't explain why you're smiling though," Chris said, and he was good at this game. "Blaine and Marcus still spent twelve hours alone together last night." Kurt looked at Chris in surprise. "Yes, at this point, I _can_ read your mind."

"Actually, they didn't," Kurt corrected. "There was a movie in the common room last night," which he had elected not to go to because of the _ridiculous_ amount of homework he had for calculus, "and Marcus fell asleep down there. Blaine slept in his room, alone, and I'm sure there's a ton of magic marker on Marcus' face this morning."

"Kurt, not to ruin your buzz or anything, but we go to _Dalton_." He had a point.

"Fine. Maybe a moustache then." Chris chuckled.

"Fair enough. Get ready or we'll be late."

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't pay a moment of attention in first period (which he had with Blaine and the-sadly-moustache-less Marcus that day), but to be fair, none of the Warblers did, and Ms. Kay probably knew why. Once the bell for break rang, everyone started streaming towards the room they usually used for impromptu performances. Clearly, word had gotten out (as Blaine said it always did). "Shortcut?" Blaine asked Kurt with a smile.<p>

"Shortcut," Kurt agreed, and he tried to pretend his heart didn't leap into his throat when Blaine grabbed his hand and pulled him towards their own little alcove. "What about Marcus?" he asked, hating himself for being polite.

"He's with Charlie and Chris." Kurt grinned, since Blaine couldn't see him. Marcus must be having fun. "You ready to sing?"

"I'm background, Blaine, that's the question I should be asking you." They weren't running (since Blaine wasn't late this time), they were just strolling down their little pathway, holding hands, without Marcus. It was great.

"Everyone in the Warblers is important." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, don't be such a diva."

"Diva is my middle name."

"I thought it was Elizabeth."

"I can't have two middle names?"

"You're impossible."

Kurt was the one who got to pull open the double doors that time, and most of the Warblers were already assembled. "How do they _always_ beat us here without using a shortcut?"

"If I had figured that out by now, I wouldn't be using that shortcut," Blaine replied as they joined the Warblers. "Maybe they go upstairs and use the secret staircase."

"You would think fighting the crowd would take even longer."

"I don't _know_," Blaine whined dramatically, making Kurt laugh. "Come on." The Warblers were already starting the eight-bar introduction, so Kurt quickly took his place a little to the right of Blaine, and Blaine took his place front and center. Kurt could see Marcus, Chris, and Charlie in one corner. Marcus waved at Blaine, who eagerly waved back, and Charlie blew him a kiss (Kurt was about eighty percent sure he was mocking Marcus), which Blaine grabbed and chucked to the floor. They really were interesting friends. Chris waved at Kurt, who gave him a little salute in return.

_Well, I saw fireworks from the freeway  
><em>_And behind closed eyes, I cannot make them go away  
><em>_'Cause you were born on the fourth of July (freedom ring)  
><em>_Well, something on the surface it stinks  
><em>_I said something on the surface  
><em>_Well, it kind of makes me nervous  
><em>_Who say that you deserve this?  
><em>_And what kind of god would serve this?  
><em>_We will cure this dirty old disease  
><em>_Well, if you've gots the poison  
><em>_I've gots the remedy_

It was kind of a good thing Blaine was excellent at talking fast, because Jason Mraz must have set some kind of world record for the sheer number of lyrics he could fit into a verse and still have it make mild sense. Blaine was spitting out words like crazy as Kurt and the rest of the Warblers made up the accompaniment.

_The remedy is the experience  
><em>_This is a dangerous liaison  
><em>_I says the comedy is that its serious  
><em>_This is a strange enough new play on words  
><em>_I say the tragedy is how you're gonna spend  
><em>_The rest of your nights with the light on  
><em>_So shine the light on all of your friends  
><em>_When it all amounts to nothing in the end_

It was after the first verse and chorus that other people got the chance to actually sing. Kurt, since he was so unique, was luckily one of these people, and he had officially decided that he liked performing impromptu performances much more than he liked watching them. Especially the non-romantic ones.

_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)_

_Well, I heard two men talking on the radio  
><em>_In a cross fire kind of new reality show  
><em>_Uncovering the ways to plan the next big attack  
><em>_Well, they were counting down the ways to stab the brother  
><em>_In the be right back after this, the unavoidable kiss  
><em>_Where the minty fresh death breath is sure to outlast this catastrophe  
><em>_Dance with me  
><em>_Because if you've gots the poison  
><em>_I've gots the remedy_

Blaine got a little mixed up on the middle four lines (honestly, Kurt was pretty sure he was running out of air), but he just got through them and threw a little shrug into his choreography. Everyone was cheering anyway, so Kurt was pretty sure they really didn't care.

_The remedy is the experience  
><em>_This is a dangerous liaison  
><em>_I says the comedy is that its serious  
><em>_This is a strange enough new play on words  
><em>_I say the tragedy is how you're gonna spend  
><em>_The rest of your nights with the light on  
><em>_So shine the light on all of your friends  
><em>_When it all amounts to nothing in the end_

_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)_

_When I fall in love, I take my time  
><em>_There's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind  
><em>_You can turn off the sun  
><em>_But I'm still gonna shine and I'll tell you why  
><em>_Because_

Those were the only words that had any relevance to Kurt, and he would give just about anything to be able to read Blaine's mind as he sang, because even his tone of voice had changed. He was obviously thinking about something... or someone, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was looking at Marcus. Either way, when he sang the last line, he sneaked a peek at Kurt and smiled (Blaine also ignored the fact that Wes thumped him in the back. Wes had a thing about inter-Warbler mingling during performances, for some strange reason. He certainly wasn't looking at David).

_The remedy is the experience  
><em>_This is a dangerous liaison  
><em>_I says the comedy is that its serious  
><em>_This is a strange enough new play on words  
><em>_I say the tragedy is how you're gonna spend  
><em>_The rest of your nights with the light on  
><em>_So shine the light on all of your friends  
><em>_When it all amounts to nothing in the end_

The last bit of the song was when the ten-part harmony they had managed to pull off only once in rehearsal came into play. Wes had re-mixed it a little, just so that it was actually feasible for one person to sing the lead and everyone to be behind him while still contributing.

_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I, I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_And I won't, and I won't, I won't  
><em>_I won't worry my life away (hey oh oh)  
><em>_I won't, I won't, I won't  
><em>_I won't worry my life away_

They managed the ten-part harmony perfectly. Cheers erupted once the accompaniment had faded out (Wes got rid of the receding echo part of the song, which was really rather impossible to do live), and everyone swarmed forward to congratulate the Warblers. There was a lot of thumps on the back, and compliments, and hugs. Kurt was pretty sure he was approached by some people he didn't even know. In this aspect, Blaine was right. Everyone in the Warblers was important to their fans.

"Great job harmonizing," Chris said, giving him a hug from behind and scaring the crap out of him.

"Very funny," Kurt muttered, pushing his roommate off just in time for Charlie to launch himself into Kurt's arms.

"I'm so, _so_ proud of you," he said melodramatically, as if he was choking up, and he was clinging to Kurt like an annoying limpet. "You were so amazing."

"I really hate you, you know that," Kurt said, doing his best to push Charlie away. It was never an easy task.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go jump Blainers before Marcus does." True to his word, Charlie ran through the mob and catapulted himself onto Blaine's back, clinging around his neck until Blaine was forced to hold him up, else Charlie would either choke him or pull them both to the ground. They ended up pretty much in a piggy-back ride position. It definitely thwarted Marcus' attempt to hug Blaine, and for that Kurt was grateful.

"Shall we?" Chris asked, gesturing towards Blaine, Charlie, and Marcus.

"Let's."

"Hey," Blaine said brightly as Chris and Kurt came over, still holding Charlie up. It didn't seem to be a strain to him.

"Good job, man," Chris said, which was the epitomized straight-boy congratulations.

"Thanks." Blaine turned to Kurt. "Could you do me a favor and remove this limpet?"

"No," Charlie said.

"I would try," Kurt began at the same time, "but then I fear he would return to clinging to me, so I'll just leave you with him." Blaine groaned and Charlie laughed maniacally.

"He's right, you know," Charlie said in Blaine's ear.

"I hate you."

"You love me," Charlie corrected, then he leaned down and murmured something in Blaine's ear that made him flush so red, Kurt was a little afraid Blaine would pass out from the sudden rush of blood to his head.

"Off," Blaine commanded, but Charlie didn't listen. Charlie never listened.

"You love me," Charlie repeated, giving Blaine a kiss on the cheek.

"Anyway..." Chris said, looking just a pinch uncomfortable.

"Blaine, you really were amazing," Marcus said earnestly. Kurt was sure Blaine would have blushed, but he really couldn't get any redder. It wasn't humanly possible.

"Thanks," Blaine said, bending back in an attempt to get Charlie to stop clinging. Eventually, he would bend a little too far, and they would both end up on the floor. Kurt was kind of looking forward to it.

"I've tried to sing that song before, but I couldn't even get half of the words out," Marcus continued, oblivious to how much he was annoying everyone but Blaine.

"I messed up a little in the second verse," Blaine commented absentmindedly, still focusing on trying to remove Charlie.

"No one noticed," Marcus assured him, which probably wasn't true at all.

"Thanks," Blaine said again.

"Plus you remembered all that choreography _and_ all the words." Marcus really wasn't stopping, was he?

"Does anyone have duct tape?" Chris muttered in Kurt's ear, making him laugh.

"Come on, Charlie, off." Charlie ignored him. "Do I have to use your full name? Charles P-"

"Okay, okay!" Charlie quickly interrupted, hopping off of Blaine's back. "No need to bust out the middle names." Blaine grinned. "I never should have told you those."

"You really shouldn't have," Blaine agreed. "Well, I have an influx of homework I didn't do because I knew I wasn't going to have those classes, and I'm going back to my room to start on it. I'll see you guys at lunch. Coming, Marcus?"

"Yep," Marcus said eagerly, following Blaine out of the room. "I have to ask, how _do_ you get that smooth quality in your voice..."

"Dear God, he's annoying," Charlie said, readjusting where his jacket had ridden up when he had attacked Blaine. Chris, Charlie, and Kurt all looked at each other and cracked up laughing.

* * *

><p>Marcus trailed behind Blaine all the way to his dorm, complimenting his performance beyond the realm of sanity. Blaine had known Marcus long enough to know when he was sucking up, and this definitely qualified. Blaine waited until they were both in his dorm before shutting his door and turning to look at Marcus.<p>

"What?" Marcus asked. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

"I already did my homework." Of course he had. Anyone who actually knew him would know that Blaine never put off doing homework.

"Then why are we in here?" Marcus asked, taking a step forward like he had concocted an insane idea about why Blaine wanted to be alone with him in his dorm.

"Marcus, you have to stop this." That stopped his ex in his tracks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Marcus, just because we've..." Blaine gestured between them helplessly, "that doesn't mean we're a couple. We are _never_ going to be a couple."

"You like him, don't you?" Marcus asked, eyeing Blaine speculatively. "The skinny, pale one."

"That's not what we're talking about," Blaine said with a sigh.

"He likes you," Marcus added. "I think he's obsessed with you, actually."

"Marcus, stop trying to defame Kurt," he said firmly. "He's my best friend."

"Do you have a habit of making your best friends fall in love with you?" Marcus asked, the very thought making Blaine's throat close up. They _so_ weren't talking about this. "But of course you do," Marcus answered his own question. "You're a complete heartbreaker. You always have been."

"That's not... he's not... Marcus, this," he gestured between them again, "is never going to happen."

"Because you like skinny, pale, girly-voiced guys now?" Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow, and he _really_ needed to stop saying stuff like that.

"He has a name."

"Kurt," Marcus said shortly. "You like Kurt."

"Even if I didn't," crap, he had just admitted that he did, "we still wouldn't be together."

"Give me one good reason."

"We're not even friends, Marcus!" Blaine said, getting frustrated. "Just because we've known each other for a long time and we've had sex, doesn't mean anything's going to happen between us now."

"That's not a good reason."

"Why are you here, Marcus?" Blaine asked. "We've never been a couple, we're never going to be a couple, for a good portion of our past I thought you didn't even like me as a person! So why are you here?"

"Of course I liked you as a person, you idiot," Marcus said with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone did." Something was clicking in Blaine's head. He just needed more time.

"When you said I've always been a complete heartbreaker..." and there it was, "you liked me. Didn't you?"

"I thought we weren't talking about this," Marcus said, annoyed.

"But you broke up, if we can call it that, with me for..." Or maybe that wasn't it. "You're still in love with Brandon, aren't you?"

"Do you have any idea where you're going with this conversation, or are you just winging it?" Marcus asked, his eyebrow raised again.

"Winging it, because I can't figure you out."

"Oh, and you're so uncomplicated. Yesterday you were swooning as I serenaded you, and now you're accusing me of still being in love with my ex-boyfriend, whom _I_ broke up with, by the way." Okay, so that theory was out.

"I was not _swooning_," Blaine corrected. "Yes, your song was sweet, but... I didn't want to embarrass you by not appreciating it."

"Well, your _appreciation_ certainly made your little crush angry and jealous," Marcus said, and- oh crap. He hadn't even thought about that.

"We're not talking about Kurt."

"Of course we're not," Marcus said, smirking. "We're talking about us."  
>"There is no <em>us<em>!"

"Right."

"Marcus, I don't know what your problem is with Kurt... well, I guess I do, but I don't really care. _Why_ are you here?" Marcus sighed.

"I want you back."

"You never had me," Blaine corrected. "Marcus, you're a great guy when you're not acting like some sort of infatuated psychopath and tormenting my best friend-"

"Because he's _just_ your best friend," Marcus snorted, but Blaine ignored it.

"But I'm not interested in you," Blaine said shortly. "This is never going to happen. _We_ are never going to happen. Yes, we have chemistry, bundles of chemistry, but we're not the same people we were when we met. _I'm_ not the same scared little boy, and... and you're right. I like Kurt." Marcus, for some reason, was chuckling.

"You know, it's funny. Your boy-toy, Dorothy, said something very similar to me on Sunday, but I didn't believe him."

"About what?"

"The fact that you're not a scared little kid anymore with no self-respect."

"Do you believe me?"

"I do now." Blaine breathed a sigh of relief, and Marcus flipped him off. "Shut up. So, I guess I'm here for nothing."

"You don't want to go to Dalton?"

"_Hell_ no," he announced, making Blaine laugh. "You're all crazy. I've already hand-picked a boarding school in England for myself. I'm just here to appease my parents, and to see you."

"Are your parents appeased?" Blaine wasn't going to ask what he wanted to.

Marcus stared at him for a long moment. "Ask."

"You know me too well."

"You get to know someone after seven months with them... well, not _with_ them," Marcus corrected himself. "Ask."

"If I had said 'yes,' would you have come here?"

Marcus looked at the ground. "Yeah. I would have. I would have given up England and stayed in Ohio."

"That's... just crazy," Blaine muttered to himself. Thankfully, Marcus looked up and grinned.

"I know, right? How stupid am I?"

"I'm not gonna answer that," Blaine teased, and Marcus punched him in the arm.

"Come on. We should probably go sooth Dorothy's nerves that we've been getting busy in here." Blaine rolled his eyes as he followed Marcus outside.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I originally started off with Marcus' serenade being '**_You Don't Know Her Like I Do_' **by Brantley Gilbert, but I decided I wanted to go with something a little more upbeat, which is where the Hunter Hayes song came in. So, if any of the actual story doesn't seem to go with the song quite right, that's why. I tried my best to change it all, but... well, something might have slipped through.**

**Oh, and to address a review I got for last chapter: #1. I apologize that I forgot to put the Spanish translations on the bottom. I was in a hurry. Relating to that is: #2. I will never put something ground-breaking or plot-important in Spanish, because I am a forgetful dingbat, and I usually forget the put in the translations. Spanish stuff in my stories is mostly fluff, so if you don't speak it and you don't feel like translating it (or looking at the translations if I remember them), you're more than welcome to skip them. You won't miss anything.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Dynamite_' by Taio Cruz (mentioned)  
>'<em>Love Like Woe<em>' by The Ready Set (mentioned)  
>'<em>Somebody's Heartbeak<em>' by Hunter Hayes  
>'<em>Teenage Dream<em>' by Katy Perry (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>The Remedy<em>' by Jason Mraz

**Reviews are Love.**


	28. Marcus's Chat with Dorothy

Kurt had absolutely no idea what was going on with the New Directions, but he was getting a little worried. He hadn't heard from Rachel ever since she announced to him that she was diva-battling Mercedes for the title of Most Talented New Directions Girl, which was kind of concerning. If Mercedes had won... maybe he should call her.

Before he had actually thought completely through that idea, there was a knock on his door. "Chris, I swear to anything above us, if you forgot your key again I'm stapling it to your- Blaine," he stopped his rant when he opened the door to a rather amused-looking Blaine and a rather bummed-looking Marcus.

"No, go on, I wanna hear the rest of the threat," Blaine said, trying to fight a smile.

"I was going to say forehead."

"Because it's you, I'll actually believe that," he said with his usual charming smile that made Kurt's heart skip a beat. "Though I don't believe having it on his forehead would help him much. Maybe try his hand. Wanna grab coffee?"

"I thought you had homework." Which was suspicious in and of itself, but Kurt didn't ask. Blaine and Marcus hadn't been alone for long enough for anything to have happened... Kurt assumed.

"Not as much as I thought," was all Blaine said, and Kurt let it go.

"You drink too much coffee."

"So do you. Come on." Okay, Blaine had a point there. Kurt followed him and Marcus down the hallway, remembering to lock his door behind him. If Chris really had forgotten his key, too bad.

"It's so weird not having classes," Kurt said as he took up a spot next to Blaine, and it was odd that Marcus was just trailing behind them, not really saying anything.

"I know, it's like this all the time. No one really knows what to do with themselves. When we have classes, it feels like we never have enough time, but when we have time, we never seem to have enough to do. It's interesting."

The trio turned a corner and Charlie began walking on the other side of Blaine as if he had been waiting there for them. It was actually pretty creepy. "I wish Lucas was here." Blaine followed that statement with a very mature whip sound. "Shut up."

"Lucas can't be here all the time, Charlie. He's here as much as possible."

"But I _miss_ him," Charlie complained childishly. "I wish he went here."

"There's no cheerleading here, he would be miserable," Kurt added. Lucas loved cheerleading, and that was the only reason he put up with Coach Sylvester. Plus, she had a habit of winning, though less so recently.

"He has a point," Charlie added, then leaned across Blaine to peer at Kurt curiously. "How did you meet Lucas, exactly? He's older than you and, according to the social strata of McKinley, _way_ more popular than you."

"I was a cheerleader," Kurt volunteered, hoping that Charlie wouldn't be _too_ vulgar with the new knowledge. After all, he had a boyfriend. "And Lucas was my base."

"Is that the same thing as a bottom?" Charlie asked with a smirk, and Blaine slapped him upside the head.

"I can't believe you just made a sex joke about your own boyfriend with someone else."

"Then you apparently don't know me as well as I thought you did," Charlie pointed out. "And Lucas is like the strongest guy on the team. How fat were you?"

"Charlie!" Blaine exclaimed.

"Oh, relax, Blainers. It's not like he's fat _now_, so it's not rude."

"How, exactly, does your mind work?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"If you two could stop flirting," Kurt said _purely_ because Charlie said it about him and Blaine so much, "it's really not that difficult to weigh more than the female Cheerios. They barely eat, they drink Sue's Master Cleanse," Charlie shuddered; he obviously knew what that was, "and they're all right around five-three."

"I can't believe people actually drink that poison," Charlie said in horror.

"It actually doesn't taste that bad." Charlie looked at him in horror. "Once! I only tried it once."

"It's official," he announced, "I'm going to be breathing down your neck at every meal. If you were seriously willing to drink that garbage to lose weight, you would do just about anything."

"I needed to lose some weight to stay on the Cheerios!" Kurt argued. "I have pear hips." Blaine snorted.

"You do _not_ have pear hips."

"Yes I do."

"No, no you do not."

"Klaine, stop flirting," Charlie said immediately. "That stuff is disgusting."

"Charlie, I eat."

"Not enough," Blaine added.

"Would you stop encouraging him?"

"Maybe." Thankfully, they had arrived at the cafeteria.

"So, to sum up this conversation, Kurt needs to eat more and stop drinking a concoction of toxic chemicals-"

"Once, Charlie. Just once!"

"Blaine needs to stop flirting with Kurt and checking out his ass, because that's really the only way he can pass judgment on Kurt's hips," Blaine rolled his eyes, "my boyfriend used to like Kurt, and Marcus has been strangely quiet."

"What was that last one?" Blaine asked in confusion.

"Marcus-"

"No, before that."

"Stop checking out Kurt's-"

"_Charlie_!"

"Oh. Right. Lucas used to have a major thing for Kurt." Charlie shrugged. "You didn't know that? I'm surprised, love birds, I thought you two were completely honest with each other."

"You never told me that," Blaine said to Kurt, ignoring Charlie as usual.

"I thought it was kind of obvious at Christmas," Kurt said innocently, because, well, it was.

"It really was," Charlie added helpfully.

"Charlie, why, exactly, are you bringing this up?" Kurt asked, because he had known Charlie for a long time now, and at the root of every question he asked (even innocent ones like 'How did you meet Lucas?'), there were a hundred more coming.

Charlie opened his mouth to reply and Blaine stopped him. "Charlie, he will_ not_ have a threesome with you two."

"What?" Marcus practically yelped. Clearly, he had just tuned into the conversation.

"That's not what I was gonna ask," Charlie objected, ignoring Marcus. "God, you're more of a pervert than I am now." Blaine just shook his head. "Anyway, I was just curious if you knew."

"So, you were just going to tell me if I didn't?" Kurt asked, and Charlie nodded.

"It's not like he has a thing for you _now_... I hope. Anyway, no one could blame him. So, yeah, I was just going to tell you."

"Well, yes, I knew that Lucas liked me." Why was Charlie bringing this up?

"Okay. Just curious." Blaine was making their coffees, but Charlie didn't seem inclined to say anything else on the subject. "So, what's up with you, Mikey-burger?" he asked Marcus, kicking Blaine's moonlighter to get his attention.

"Nothing," Marcus said innocently. "I'm fine."

"God, talking to you people is like pulling teeth," Charlie huffed, grabbing the cup of coffee in Blaine's hand and flouncing out of the cafeteria.

"Okay, that was _not_ his coffee," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "Drama queen."

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't get a chance to call Rachel until later that night, after he had spent the whole day with Blaine and an oddly-silent Marcus. Not that it wasn't <em>nice<em> Marcus had stopped fawning over Blaine, but it made Kurt wonder why. Either way, it really didn't matter.

Rachel let the phone ring three times before answering it. "_Hello_?"

"Oh good, so you haven't killed anyone since I've last talked to you," Kurt said with a little smile to himself.

"_Either that or I haven't gotten caught for it_," Rachel pointed out.

"Same thing."

"_How are you?_"

"Fine. Wonderful, actually. We didn't even have classes today, so I just drank a lot of coffee and spent the whole day with Blaine."

"_How are things with you and Blaine_?"

"Complicated. How come you're asking me questions about my life and you've only used the word 'I' once?" Kurt asked, mildly suspicious.

"_Technically, 'I' is a letter_," that sounded more like Rachel, "_and I'm asking you questions because I have nothing else to talk about._"

"So, you don't want to tell me the results of the Diva-Off?" Kurt asked.

"_It was a draw. Mercedes is amazingly talented, even with the handicap of being off her own course, and she really should get more solos_."

"Who are you and what have you done with the utterly self-centered Rachel Berry?"

"_I placed her in storage for my Broadway debut_," Rachel replied. "_Do you have Capgras Syndrome or something?_"

"No, Rachel, I don't really think you're an impostor." He had forgotten how trying talking to Rachel could be. "Sometimes it would be nice if you _were_ an impostor, but sadly, you're not."

"_I'm going to ignore that. Anyway, Mercedes and I sang an amazing version of _Take Me or Leave Me_ for our Diva-Off, and we are both stunningly talented._"

"What else is up with the Glee club?" Kurt asked, because that sounded like an unusually small amount of drama for the two days he hadn't heard from Rachel.

"_Uh... nothing_," Rachel replied, and she even sounded a little bit surprised herself. "_I mean, our Diva-Off was yesterday, and we didn't have rehearsal today, so... nothing_."

"Oh. Okay."

"_How are the Warblers_?"

"Good." Wow, the New Directions were clearly learning that drama did nothing for their club's chances of succeeding... odd. "We had an impromptu performance earlier, and that's why classes were canceled, so... yeah."

"_Cool._"

"Yeah."

"_Okay. Um, goodbye, love._"

"Goodbye, love," Kurt returned the sentiment and then hung up. Drama-less New Directions? That was weird.

* * *

><p>Marcus had been much better on Wednesday, but it took Blaine about an hour to convince Marcus that he was allowed to talk around Kurt as long as he wasn't an asshole about it. On Thursday, Blaine and Marcus had classes with Kurt again, and it looked like Marcus and Kurt could actually get along as long as Blaine was moderating their conversations. Charlie had let up with all his strange 'Lucas liked Kurt' talk, and after some nudging from Kurt, Chris had started being civil to Marcus. All was right with the world.<p>

Well, except for the fact that Wes and David still couldn't talk in front of each other without fighting (a little argument had even erupted during Wes' presentation of his religion project and Ms. Kay had sent them both to Headmaster Fournier's office), and Nick and Jeff were still technically broken up (though one would get a completely different story if they asked Jeff). Oh, and Chris and Chrissy were still fighting (personally, Blaine thought their names were _way_ too similar to not have a couple name, but no one seemed to agree). Maybe not _everything_ was right with the world... whatever!

"We," Charlie announced, throwing Blaine's door open with a crash, "need to have a conversation."

"Of course we do." Blaine rolled his eyes. Oh boy.

"Why aren't you dating Kurt yet?" And they were back to this.

"Charlie, we've had this conversation. Quite a few times, as a matter of fact."

"Yes, but that was before you had a sleazeball trying to get all up on that," Charlie said, gesturing at Blaine's body.

"Charlie, Marcus is behaving quite nicely-"

"You make it sound like he's some sort of rogue dog you've adopted!" Charlie said, sitting on the bed that was normally Marcus'. Marcus was doing his mid-week brief with the headmaster. "Can't you see that having him here is driving Kurt absolutely crazy? And not in the fun way either."

"Could you _not_ talk about Kurt like that? _Ever_," he said firmly, standing up, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"You don't get to decide how I talk about Kurt unless you're his boyfriend. Thems the rules, sucker!" Charlie pushed him back into his chair. "Kurt is _perfect_ for you, and you are being absolutely ridiculous, making up all these _stupid as hell_ excuses for why you can't be with him, while the only real reason you're not with him is your own idiocy. _What_ is _up_ with _that_?" Charlie demanded.

"Oh, can it, Charlie! Just because you're in a monogamous relationship for the first time in history, it doesn't mean you're the love guru. You don't know anything about my relationship with Kurt, so maybe you should just shut up!"

"You don't _have_ a relationship with Kurt! That's the whole problem. And I damn sure know a bit more about how Kurt's feelings than you do, because you've been so obliviously ignoring Kurt and letting Marcus back in your pants!"

"What?" Blaine said, his previous anger totally subverted. "I'm not sleeping with Marcus."

"Could've fooled me," Charlie sniffed. "Did, as a matter of fact."

"Wait, you think I'm... Does _everyone_ think I'm..."

"Yes. And you can probably include Kurt in everyone."

"Oh God." Blaine put his head in his hands. He tolerated Marcus' advances because... well, they were kind of... flattering. Which was stupid and self-centered, and now _Kurt_ thought... "Oh God."

"I was hoping that was the conclusion you would come to, yes," Charlie said.

"Well, I hope you have a sick sense of satisfaction." Speaking of being sick...

"Oh, shut up." Blaine's head jerked up when Charlie kicked him. "You're not the victim here, so stop acting like one. You need to talk to him. _Soon_."

"What the hell am I supposed to say? I'm sorry you thought I was sleeping with my ex because he's been lavishing attention on me all week, but I was really just trying to be nice, and I'm sorry I was so inconsiderate about your feelings in the process?"

"That would probably be a good start," Charlie said approvingly.

"And how am I supposed to get rid of Marcus for long enough to have a private conversation with Kurt? Things between us are rocky enough as it is!"

"Number one, I don't care how 'rocky' things are between you and Marcus. I really don't. I only care about Kurt, like you should. Number two-"

"No. Whatever you're thinking, just... no. I don't mean get _rid_ of Marcus the way you're thinking." Charlie sighed.

"Fine. Be like that."

* * *

><p>Marcus was in the headmaster's office. Kurt knew this because apparently Chris had moonlighted before transferring (sometime in October, which explains why Kurt hadn't seen him or heard about the moonlighter. Apparently, news of a moonlighter spread fast at Dalton. Everything seemed to), and any moonlighter was due to meet the headmaster mid-week. It was after classes on Thursday, which was about as close to mid-week as one could get as far as appointments with the headmaster went. He was a very busy man.<p>

While Marcus was talking to Headmaster Fournier, Kurt was waiting on one of the benches outside of the front office, playing a game on his phone and ignoring the inquisitive looks he was getting from everyone who walked by. Marcus was in the office for about forty minutes, but when he came out, Kurt was ready there.

"We need to have a conversation," he said, to which Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm not the reason Blaine hasn't proposed to you yet, so just leave me alone. And, for the record, despite what seems to be a popular rumor," he said with a smirk, "I'm not sleeping with Blaine."

"I know that." He hadn't, really, but he knew Blaine was too classy for that now.

"So, what? You want to gloat that you were right, that Blaine isn't that scared little boy who only needed someone who gave a crap about him and had no self-esteem?" Kurt tried not to let his shock register on his face. Marcus was admitting that he was right.

"Gloating is tactless," Kurt replied, making Marcus roll his eyes again.

"Right. I'm sure you're _far_ above it. Leave me alone," he said again, walking by Kurt, headed out of the building, but Kurt followed him. The countertenor didn't even have to say anything else to get Marcus to stop. "Look, I get it, okay. You've figured it out. I know there's always a guy in love with Blaine who doesn't have a chance because I _was_ that guy, for a long time... but I was wrong, you _might_ be different. I don't know, I don't care. Get out of my face."

"You were in love with Blaine?" Kurt asked, beyond the point where he was pretending Marcus didn't know anything he didn't. Marcus was clearly miles ahead in this conversation.

"What can I say? He's good in the sack." Kurt's cheeks were burning, he knew it. "And yes, I said that just to embarrass you, virg." Marcus turned and started walking away again.

"Don't think you're getting rid of me that easily," Kurt said, continuing to follow Marcus, who sighed, but stopped again. This time he didn't turn around.

"I lost my chance, Kurt, and I get that now, okay? I'll back off your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

Marcus was rolling his eyes as he turned around. How that didn't make him dizzy was beyond Kurt. "You think I don't know that, Sherlock? Blaine is way out of my reach, and a bit out of my league. I'm going to England and _you_ are not going to follow me down this hallway, or I _will_ punch you. I don't care how angry Blaine would get that I broke your pretty, pretty face, Dorothy."

Dorothy? Kurt wondered to himself, but he didn't follow Marcus. He was one hundred percent sure that Marcus would follow through on his threat, and he didn't really want a broken nose. Or a broken anything else.

* * *

><p>Chris was talking about Chrissy again, and Kurt was rather ready to kill him. No matter how much Chris moaned and whined and griped, he never mentioned exactly what the fight was <em>about<em>, or if he was mad at Chrissy, or Chrissy was mad at him. Mid-rant, he started calling her 'Christine,' which wasn't a good sign.

It was the only time in the history of ever that Kurt was glad Rachel called him. Not that his phone ringing stopped Chris' spiel, oh no, nothing could do that, but it gave him something else to focus on and someone semi-sane to talk to.

"_Everything blew up_!" Rachel announced as soon as he picked up the phone.

"Hello to you too, Rachel. I'm surprised you're up this late." Kurt looked over at Chris' alarm clock. "Almost eleven thirty."

"_Do you seriously think I can sleep under these conditions_?"

"Well, I could answer that if you clued me into what kind of conditions you're facing," Kurt said dryly. Not that he wanted Rachel to hang up on him anytime soon (anything, at this point, was better than talking to Chris).

"_I'm not a trendsetter_!" Rachel announced as though it were a revelation.

"I could have told you that," Kurt said automatically.

"_Brittany gets to be on the cover of a magazine for parading around _my_ style, and no one even recognizes it as my style! They all think I'm trying to take credit for Brittany's 'genius,' and it's just awful._" Rachel sounded really upset, but Kurt was having trouble not laughing. This kind of thing would only happen to Rachel.

"Go on," he managed to choke out in an almost-sad tone of voice.

"_Plus, Zizes sang her first solo today, and God, it was _awful._ By the time she was done, it felt like my ears were bleeding. And she was weirdly timid... especially considering she's a wrestler and when I walked by the gym the other day I was her take down a guy bigger than her... and that's a considerable feat for both of them_." Maybe he would rather be talking to Chris.

"Did anything _positive_ happen today?" Kurt asked for the sake of seeing if the New Directions was still drama-less.

"_Well, Sam still hasn't figured out that Quinn's cheating on him with Finn, but I think Santana is trying to tell him what's going on_." That sounded more like it. "_And we did this _amazing_ number that's a definite contender for Regionals, but I obviously can't tell you too much about that_."

"And I wouldn't do you the insult of asking," Kurt assured her. The Warblers were planning for Regionals too, but it was the same as any other competition for them.

* * *

><p>The most interesting part of that Friday was lunch. Charlie and Blaine were arguing about something that Kurt wasn't quite sure he understood (he was pretty sure it has something to do with basketball, so he didn't really care), and Marcus was still being a rather quiet, timid little presence. It was nice, considering he had threatened to do Kurt bodily harm the day before.<p>

"Kurt, settle this for us."

"Blaine, he has absolutely no idea what we're talking about," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes, and when Kurt nodded in confirmation, Blaine sighed.

"Marcus, settle this for us."

"Charlie's right," Marcus said immediately, and Charlie let out a cheer, making a rude gesture at Blaine, who stuck his tongue out at the crazy boy in return.

"I _told_ you!"

"I'm done with this!" The yell from the opposite side of the Warbler's section was ten times too loud to be normal for lunch at Dalton. There was always a pleasant buzz of conversation, but it was never overbearingly loud. It always reminded Kurt of a restaurant level of noise. This was... extremely unusual.

The yell came from the table that was unfortunately housing the feuding Wevid. David was the one who had yelled out in frustration, standing up from his table. "I don't care what you think, Wes, my decision is _final_, and if you don't like it, deal with it."

"So," Charlie said under his breath, "instead of having it out in front of the Warblers, they're deciding to have it out in front of the whole school. Awesome." Charlie wasn't being sarcastic. He really was excited about this.

"I don't think it's a fair decision, considering the history of poor decisions you've made regarding this," Wes said angrily, standing up as well.

"Really? I'm the one who's made poor decisions? What about the NDE? Was that a good decision on your part, Wesley?" David asked icily. Kurt didn't have any idea what they were talking about (and a quick look confirmed Blaine didn't know either), but judging by Wes' facial expression, David was dragging up some painful memory.

"I stand by that decision," Wes replied, but he looked pale. "Nothing has changed, and while I can't say nothing bad came of it, it was the right thing to do!" What were they talking about?

"Really, and you would know everything about that, Two-Weeker." Several people 'ooh'-ed, including Blaine. Kurt decided to ask about it later.

"Don't bring that into this," Wes snapped. "That has nothing to do with this."

"Well, that was vague," David said with a smirk. "Tell me, Wes, isn't this what you always wanted?"

"Not like this... and like you've ever cared about what I want!" Wes practically yelled the last part, and it was obvious David was baiting him, trying to make him angry. How had that worked out for him last time? Oh yeah, he was rooming with Charlie now.

"I told you, Wes, I'll try anything once." That made Wes go red. Really, _brilliantly _red. Kurt looked at Blaine, who shrugged.

"Except being honest," Wes replied, but there was less vitriol there. "I have much more experience in that then you do."

"Oh, so we're talking about _experience_ now?"

"Uh-oh," Charlie murmured.

"Which one of us has never slept with a woman?" David asked, and the whole cafeteria went silent. "Because I'm pretty sure it's not me." Wes was white as a sheet, and looked green under the paleness. David was going for the jugular.

"I... I..." Wes stormed out. It wasn't a run, like in a dramatic movie, and it wasn't a storm out in anger. He walked out as casually as possible, but waves of anger and rage and pain and nausea were rolling off of him, pity and anger at David running through the crowd in return. Wes' exit was like a tsunami that swept over the cafeteria, and the door shut loudly in the silence he left.

"Wow, David." Blaine was the one to say it, but everyone was thinking it.

"Believe it or not, it was something he needed to hear." Everyone who knew what was going on probably believed it (Kurt definitely did. Wes _had_ said something to him about David denying his sexuality), but it was still ridiculously harsh.

About five minutes after David left, the low hubbub of conversation had returned to the Dalton cafeteria, and Kurt thought it was finally safe to ask his question. "Two-Weeker?" was all he needed to say.

"It's an old nickname the Warblers used to have for Wes," Blaine explained. "Before Alison, his current girlfriend," Kurt always forgot that Wes had a girlfriend, "Wes had a lot of really short relationships, so it became a running joke that every relationship he had would last for two weeks and no woman could ever satisfy him. Guess that makes much more sense now." Blaine sighed. Everyone felt bad for Wes, but no one _dared_ to go talk to him. An angry Wes was a very, _very_ frightening creature, and underneath everything else, Wes had definitely been angry.

* * *

><p>"I still think somebody should go talk to him," Blaine said as they walked back from classes that day. Everyone in the school was still thinking about Wes and what had happened at lunch. No one had seen him since.<p>

"No one has the guts," Kurt replied. Marcus was trailing behind them as usual, and he was starting to like the fact that Marcus hadn't said a word over the past few days. He had no idea _why_, but Marcus hadn't. Still, he knew it had to be different when they were alone, and it killed him a little inside.

"Hey, Kurt, Blaine, could I get some help in here?" Charlie's voice floated from the utilities closet in Kurt and Blaine's hall. "I have no idea who put a _trunk_ in front of the extra toilet paper, but it is _not_ appreciated."

"Yeah, sure." Kurt and Blaine both headed for the closet, and before they could register the fact that Charlie wasn't in there, the door shut behind them.

"Charlie!" Blaine hollered, banging on the now-locked door. "Open this door right now!"

"Not a chance, Blay," Charlie replied, and he was very clearly _outside_ the door. Somehow. "Thank you for falling for that _so_ easily. Come on, Marcus, let's give Klaine some time in there to stew."

"He used a tape recorder," Blaine said, noticing the object taped to the wall. "That bastard. Who _owns_ a tape recorder?"

"Charlie will never stop surprising me," Kurt vowed, and he knew that was absolutely true. It always would be. "Any idea why he did this?"

"I... I think I have a clue," Blaine said, clearing his throat. "I, um, I wanted to talk to you without Marcus around, and I think this was Charlie's solution."

"That... wouldn't surprise me." Kurt _was_ surprised, however, to discover that there actually _was_ a trunk in there, and it looked like a very comfortable seat. Kurt sat down. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Marcus," Blaine said, and Kurt groaned internally, "and us." Well, that was surprising.

"Want to be any more specific?" Kurt asked, not having a good response to that.

"I kind of... wanted to apologize for being an inconsiderate douchebag," Blaine said blatantly.

Oh. "Oh."

"I... was recently made aware of what things _looked_ like between Marcus and I, and I just wanted to... set the record straight."

"Blaine, just... stop, okay? Just because it's... difficult to see you and Marcus rekindling your... relationship, it doesn't mean I should be an impediment-"

"Marcus," Blaine had to stop, because he was clearly fighting off the urge to start laughing. "Marcus," he began again once he had composed himself, "and I are _not_ rekindling any kind of _relationship_, and we're not... getting physical either," Blaine said with a chuckle. Luckily, it was dark in their closet, so Blaine probably didn't know that Kurt was blushing.

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_," Blaine repeated with a laugh. "So, to repeat the exact words Charlie suggested I start with-" Blaine sat down on the trunk next to him, and Kurt scooted a little so they both had room. It barely fit the two of them, but it worked.

"Do I want to hear this?"

"They're _my_ words, I promise," Blaine said with a chuckle. "I'm sorry you thought I was sleeping with my ex because he's been lavishing attention on me all week, but I was really just trying to be nice, and I'm sorry I was so inconsiderate about your feelings in the process."

"So, what happened with Marcus?" Kurt asked, jumping a little bit as Blaine placed a hand on his knee in the darkness.

"I talked to him, and when he admitted that he's here because of me and he doesn't actually want to go here for any other reason, I shot him down."

"I'm guessing that was about the time he stopped talking?" Kurt asked with a laugh, and Blaine... well, he probably nodded. Kurt couldn't really see him, and he probably hadn't figured that out yet.

"Yes, exactly then."

"I don't understand why you did this," Kurt admitted. It was dark, and it was only him and Blaine. What did he have to lose?

"Why I turned Marcus down, you mean?" Blaine asked.

"I thought you wanted to give him a fresh start."

"Yes, but not _romantically_. That chapter of my friendship with Marcus is long over. Heck, it never even started," Blaine said with a rueful laugh. "Remember, I did tell you that I never loved him. I never even _liked_ him in that way. Yes, he was special to me, in a very unique way, but that was a long time ago."

"He liked you," Kurt said, because... well, Marcus wasn't there.

"I know," Blaine said with a sigh. "I didn't know then, but I do now."

"I guess that's why he hates me."

"Yeah, pretty much," Blaine said with a little laugh, not even bothering to deny that Marcus definitely did _not_ like Kurt.

"Why did he call me Dorothy?" Kurt asked, remembering the weird little thing Marcus had done in the one time they had talked alone.

"I haven't the faintest clue," Blaine said with a laugh. "He started calling you that somewhere in the middle of our conversation, and he wouldn't let me correct him."

"Why were you talking about me?" It was the wrong question to ask. Blaine cleared his throat again, and the hand that had become a comfortable weight on his knee disappeared.

"Because he figured out that you like me." Kurt snorted. He couldn't help it.

"Everyone has." Blaine chuckled.

"I know." Blaine cleared his throat again. "He... uh... you know what, never mind."

"What?"

"He's crazy."

"Blaine. _What_?"

"He kept saying you were in love with me," Blaine said, and even in the absolute silence of a closet, Kurt could barely hear Blaine's voice.

"I... I don't know what to say to that." Okay, Marcus was either _very_ perceptive, or some sort of mind reader.

"Are you?" Blaine asked, as if he couldn't help himself.

"Blaine, can I give you some advice?" Blaine made a little noise of affirmation. "Never ask a question you don't want the answer to." That, Kurt had a feeling, was enough of an answer in itself.

"Right," Blaine said, clearing his throat for what must have been the hundredth time. "Well, anyway. I am sorry. About Marcus. I didn't think he would be so..."

"Awful?"

"That's one word for it." Blaine sighed. "How long do you think Charlie will keep us in here?"

"No clue."

"Should we call him and tell him we've talked?"

"Worth a shot." Blaine dialed Charlie on his phone and then put it on speaker phone.

"_Are you two making out yet_?" Charlie asked once he picked up the phone.

"Charlie!" Blaine exclaimed, and Kurt knew he was blushing. He couldn't see it, but he knew.

"_I'll take that as a 'no,' which means you're not getting out of the closet. Sucks to suck._" Charlie hung up on them.

"Should have seen that coming, in hindsight," Blaine said with a very uncomfortable-sounding laugh.

"Blaine, maybe we should... clear the air."

"What do you mean?"

"I know what I told you kind of... makes things awkward, but I'm not... I'm not desperately pining over you, okay?" Well, that wasn't _really_ a lie. There was a lot of pining, but Kurt wouldn't call it _desperate_.

"Kurt-"

"Look, you can't blame me for liking you. You're my best friend, I obviously like your personality, and even though that's developed into... more, for me, and it hasn't for you, doesn't mean things should change. I don't... I don't _regret_ saying what I said, but can we forget that it ever happened?" Blaine sighed.

"Kurt, you're great-"

"Please spare me the gentle rejection, Blaine. Say what you need to say."

"I'm not... just listen, okay? You are an _amazing_ person. Smart, witty, talented... beautiful, but-"

"You don't like me."

"That's... I don't... it's not like the idea of being with you, of dating you, is _repulsive_ to me, or anything-"

"Well that's always good," Kurt said with a strained laugh.

"It's just... you are my best friend, Kurt, my sanity in this crazy world that somehow has the audacity to call itself a Catholic school-"

"You're talking about Dalton like it's a living thing again."

"Whatever. The point is... even this conversation is difficult for me, okay? I'm not really good at sharing my feelings, especially with words, and romance is _so_ beyond me. And you... you deserve absolutely _everything_ that I don't think I can give you. I don't wanna mess this up anymore than we already have."

"You mean _I_ already have."

"Same thing." Blaine took Kurt's hand. "You're amazing, Kurt, and you will make someone the happiest guy alive, but I'm not sure I'm ready to be that guy, okay?" Even in the darkness, Kurt could tell Blaine was very, _very_ close (probably doing his best to look into his eyes), and suddenly the air was full of electricity. Kurt's hand tingled where Blaine was touching it, and his heart rate sped up.

The door swung open. "I was totally kidding about the whole..." but Charlie stopped talking as Blaine and Kurt both shut their eyes against the light, trying to blink away the sun spots created by the blast of light. "Did I just _interrupt_ something?" Charlie asked as he looked over how close they were.

"No," Blaine said, standing up. "Contrary to popular belief, teenage boys do other things in closets than make out."

"Like huddle in them or... things I won't say in front of the virgin?" Charlie asked with a grin, casually gesturing at Kurt with a thumb and making him blush.

"Among other things. Like _talk_." Blaine looked around. No Marcus in sight. "What did you do with my moonlighter?"

"You'll find him eventually," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes. "And I still don't believe that I didn't interrupt something."

"Believe whatever you want, Charlie," Blaine said, walking off to find Marcus.

"Where did you stash him?" Kurt asked once Blaine was out of earshot.

"Wes' room. Wes wasn't in there, but I pity Marcus if he comes back before Blaine finds him." Charlie had a rather evil grin on his face that clashed with his statement.

"You really are evil, you know that?" Kurt asked, finally standing up from his spot on the trunk.

"I know," Charlie replied, sounding ridiculously proud. "So, did I interrupt something?"

"No, but I think there might of been something to interrupt if you hadn't interrupted." That... made no sense.

"He was about to kiss you?" Charlie asked for clarification.

"I... I thought so, but it was dark and we were talking about feelings... maybe I just... misinterpreted things." Because it would make absolutely no sense for Blaine to tell Kurt he wasn't ready to be in a real relationship and then kiss him. Absolutely _no_ sense.

"Right," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

><p>"<em>You'll never guess what happened today<em>," Rachel said as soon as Kurt answered the phone.

"No, probably not, so you should just tell me," he offered, in an unusually good mood. Whatever it was that had happened between him and Blaine in the closet, it had definitely cleared the air between them, and even gotten rid of that awkwardness that had been part of their every interaction since Valentine's Day.

"_Sam and Quinn broke up! And Sam revealed he's dating Santana now! And Miss Sylvester is coaching Aural Intensity! And I suggested... a great idea for Regionals and was shot down... but I did get to talk to Finn and he encouraged me to continue to pursue said idea which I obviously can't tell you about, and he was... really sweet. I guess things are okay between us now._" See, that sounded a lot more like the New Directions.

"I guess... I'm happy for you?" he guessed at the proper response to the flood of information.

"_Good guess_," Rachel replied with a roll of her eyes. "_I feel so bad for Sam though. Santana is just using him... for whatever reason, and Quinn was cheating on him... and it's just awful, it really is._"

"So, it's me vs. you vs. Coach Sylvester for Regionals?" Kurt asked. "And I'm guessing that will be exactly the order in which the prizes are awarded."

"_Oh, bring it _on_. My idea will knock the socks off all of your stupid little Warbler side-steps_." Kurt pretended to gasp.

"How did you know we were doing side-steps? Have you been spying on us?" They both cracked up laughing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: See. I promised you guys that Marcus would go away. And while he's not actually *gone,* this is close enough, right? He's only speaking if spoken to. So, yeah. I hope you guys like this chapter.**

**Song mentioned:  
><strong>'_Take Me or Leave Me_' from _RENT_**  
><strong>

**Reviews are Love.**


	29. Marcus' Departure

It was Visiting Day again at Dalton, and Kurt only had to put up with the silent-but-still-obnoxious presence of Marcus for two more days. Plus, Lucas was coming to visit a _very_ lonely Charlie (poor David would have to vacate his room for quite a while), and Chrissy was coming to visit Chris and solve whatever issue they were having (which was still a mystery to Kurt. He had stopped caring at this point, he had heard so much about Chrissy over the course of the last week, and he just wanted it to be over. Everyone did).

However, Kurt didn't expect to walk out of his room while his roommate was at basketball practice and bump right into a pretty girl. They were a rare species at Dalton. "Oh... hi!" the girl said cheerily. "You must be Kurt."

"And you must be Chrissy," Kurt said, realizing she was here for Chris. "He's not here right now, he's at basketball practice."

"I guess that's what I get for not answering his phone calls, huh?" Chrissy said with a soft laugh. "I feel like I should properly introduce myself. Christine Teigen." Chrissy was pretty, with curly brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a bright smile. She had a rather wide nose, but that was the only thing he really didn't find cute about her. She was about 5'5", and ridiculously skinny. Kurt found her absolutely adorable.

"Kurt Hummel," he introduced himself in return.

"Well, it's nice to meet the man my... Chris spends so much time with." Bad sign. _Bad_ sign.

"What happened with the two of you anyway?" Kurt asked, and maybe that was kind of rude for their first meeting, but Kurt was suddenly curious.

"He didn't tell you?" Christine asked, sounding completely surprised (Kurt decided to mentally call her 'Christine' for two reasons. One, he personally thought it fit her better. Two, it made her name sound a little less like Chris'. Just a little bit, but...). "Oh, it was something really stupid. He had something set up with his friends, but I wanted to go out instead. It was nothing major, and I feel like such an idiot now, 'cause everything kind of blew up before I could control it, you know?"

"Not really, no," Kurt admitted, and she laughed.

"Well, lucky you. I'm gonna go watch my little love bug play basketball. Bye, Kurt." Kurt was about to offer her directions, but she flounced off as if she knew where she was going, so he let her go. Oh, and Chris would _never_ live that nickname down. Ever.

"Good morning," Blaine said as he came down the hall, Marcus trailing behind him like a sad puppy. "Who's-"

"That's Miss Christine Teigen, the girl who's _way_ too pretty to be dating my roommate." Blaine laughed at that.

"Oh, come on. Your roommate's pretty easy on the eyes-"

"Isn't he?" Christine yelled down the hall, making Blaine laugh.

"I like her."

"I can't believe you think Chris is attractive."

"I can't believe you think Michael Weatherly is more attractive than Sean Murray."

"I can't believe you're bringing that back up."

"Ziva agrees with me."

"I can't believe you two aren't dating all ready," Marcus murmured behind Blaine, rolling his eyes at them. That effectively shut both of them up.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Blaine, it's like ten in the morning."

"For some people, that's a reasonable question," Blaine said a little sheepishly.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"Nope."

"Let's go then."

* * *

><p>The Commons was nearly empty, and the janitorial staff glared at Kurt, Blaine, and Marcus, clearly not happy with the idea of the trio getting in the middle of their cleaning time. So Blaine and Marcus grabbed food and Kurt grabbed an apple, and they headed to their favorite little coffee cafeteria on the third floor.<p>

Once again, Blaine was talking when Kurt spotted Nick and Jeff sitting on opposite sides of the table where they had had their first serious conversation. Blaine shut up when Kurt nudged him, and they sat down at a table a little farther away this time (they still weren't being very subtle).

"Nick, _trust_ me," Jeff was saying, holding both of Nick's hands in his on the table. "Your parents love you. They always have. And I'm pretty sure they've always thought I was gay."

"They have," Nick said with a little smile. "Every day during eighth grade they asked me if we were dating." That made Jeff laugh.

"They'll come around. They've always been comfortable with this kind of stuff, I think they're just in shock." Kurt had never heard Jeff sound so serious. It was surprising. "And announcing to them that _you think_ we've broken up-" that made Nick snort, "won't help your cause here. They'll think it really is just a phase. Are you really giving up on us because Milly doesn't think this is the right life choice for you?"

"Milly is Nick's mom," Blaine added helpfully.

"If Milly thought you should go to Vanderbilt like your father, you would object and fight to stay out of Tennessee. Isn't this even more important than that?" Nick let out a long sigh.

"Of course it is, Jeff. But how do I tell my parents that I don't care what they think of the person I've chosen to spend my life with?"

"Aw," Blaine said, too loudly. He was a _terrible_ eavesdropper.

"If you guys are going to listen, the least you can do is be quiet," Jeff said without turning around to look at them. "Nick, they love you, and they love me too." Nick chuckled at that.

"Sometimes I wonder if you put those in the right order," Nick joked.

"Not funny," Jeff said, and it sounded like he was smiling. "If you tell them that this is really what you want, not just a phase and not just a spur of the moment rebellion, I think they'll be okay with it. I really do."

"Plus the fact that Milly can never say no to you." Nick smiled. "Remember that time you convinced her buy us fake IDs."

"For the record, she _did_ refuse to buy us alcohol," Jeff said.

"Only because she didn't want to make the trip." Then they were laughing, until Jeff leaned over the table to kiss him, gently and sweetly. Kurt blushed and looked away, making Blaine fight a smile and poke him. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jeff said. "Come on, we have mischief to be making."  
>"I still don't think this is a good idea," Nick argued as they stood up, threw away their empty cups, and left the room, hand-in-hand.<p>

"Thank God. I'm pretty sure if they had remained semi-broken-up for one more day, Charlie would have intervened, and we all know how that ends." Kurt looked over at Blaine and smiled. Yes, the _Drops of Jupiter_ incident had been horrible, but it _had_ worked.

"This school is insane," Marcus muttered.

"You didn't _have_ to come here," Blaine replied as he stood up to get them coffee. Thankfully, Marcus didn't say anything in reply.

* * *

><p>Wes set up the movie night in the common room. Apparently he had nothing to do now that he wasn't arguing andor sleeping with David, so he had extra time to wheedle the A/V club (every school had to have one) into giving their dorm the equipment for the night. The Warblers usually got it if they requested it, since they were socially the Dalton equivalent of a football team and everyone loved them. Saturday was the most popular night for movie nights, but thankfully Wes had managed to get the equipment. Because it was Dalton, the movie of choice was 27 Dresses, and _everyone_ had gotten a vote. Even the barrage of visitors.

Kurt, Blaine, and Marcus were some of the first people to the common room (besides Wes, who was setting up). David arrived a little bit after them, and he didn't even offer Wes the customary nod for getting the equipment before sitting down next to Kurt. He had spent the entire day in the library, since he had the misfortune of being Charlie's roommate. Apparently, he was between girlfriends, because no one had come to visit him for the last two weeks. No one bothered to question him about it, or Wes.

Thad, Michael, Kendrick, Oliver, and Trent came in as a group, making jokes and with big bags of various flavors of popcorn, which they then poured out in ridiculously large bowls. They sat down on one of the three couches, all attempting to get a seat. In the end, Thad, Kendrick, and Michael got seats, while Oliver and Trent ended up on the floor with a bowl between them that Kendrick was being very careful not to kick.

Thad's little brother, Mason, and a few other young ones, including Charlie's favorite, Clayton, showed up about ten minutes before the movie was set to start. "Why are there so few lowerclassmen?" Kurt asked anyone who was listening as Thad passed him one of the bowls of popcorn. A quick taste identified them as jalapeño. Delicious.

"There are exclusive freshman dorms," Blaine replied, "and while freshman Warblers are allowed to come in here, they usually like to hang out with their friends. Usually, if they're in this dorm freshman year, they become hermits and have no friends outside the Warblers."

"Like Blaine," David added.

"Shut up. Everyone loves me," Blaine said in return, and that was probably true.

"Except for all of us," Charlie added as he walked in, hand-in-hand with a rather ruffled-looking Lucas. "Oh, and David, I have to apologize for anything mildly-to-severely traumatizing that you might have seen."

"No problem," David replied, looking a little green.

"And the sophomores generally opt not to be placed here as well. A lot of them commute too. Boarding is mandatory freshman year, so sophomores are often really afraid to get homesick again. That usually goes away by junior year."

"Are we late?" Chris asked as he walked in, thankfully holding hands with Christine.

Obviously Charlie was thinking along the same lines. "Oh thank God!" he announced. "Now we can all stop hearing about whatever the mysterious fight was!" A lot of Warblers (some of whom weren't even involved) cheered and clapped.

"Oh, it was just-" Christine started

"Don't care!" Charlie cut her off, standing up, grabbing her face, and smacking kisses to both cheeks and then her nose. "Thank you for loving him so we don't have to!" He then sat back on the couch, curling back into Lucas' suddenly-vacated embrace. Hopefully he was done.

"Is everyone here?" Wes asked, having run through the previews while people were talking.

"_Wes_," Charlie complained. "The previews are the best part!"

"This movie's old, Charlie," Wes replied, "all the movies in the previews have come out already."

"Still the best part," Charlie grumbled.

"We can watch them later," Lucas appeased him, giving Charlie a kiss on the temple that made him smile.

"You really have to be something to love that crazy bastard, don't you?" Blaine asked with a laugh, offering Lucas a fist bump.

"Did we miss anything?" Jeff asked as he and Nick hurried in, and everybody cheered again when they saw that the two boys were holding hands.

"No, but apparently we all missed something," Kendrick added from the couch on the other side of the room as Jeff and Nick cuddled up on the love seat that was usually reserved for Wes and David (_that _definitely should have been a red flag to everyone before).

"Yes, we're back together," Jeff said with a smile as Nick gave him a kiss on the nose.

"And clearly back to being nauseating," Charlie piped up from where he was (for all intents and purposes) on Lucas' lap.

"You really can't make that joke anymore, Charlie," Nick said with some satisfaction as he noticed how curled up Charlie and Lucas were.

"I'm more than happy to be a hypocrite," Charlie replied.

"Babe, be nice," Lucas muttered, nuzzling at Charlie's nick and kissing the underside of his jaw.

"Fine," Charlie huffed, readjusting in Lucas' lap.

"You two win for the most nauseating award," Michael piped up, and Charlie tossed some popcorn at him for the comment. Everyone grinned, all having the same thought at the same time, but Wes quickly forbade it.

"_No_ throwing popcorn. No popcorn fights... and no _blankets_ either." Wes gave a suspicious eye to Charlie and Lucas and Nick and Jeff.

"Fine, we'll just do it in the open," Charlie muttered, making Lucas laugh.

"Can I start the movie now?"

"All clear," Blaine announced, and Wes hit play just before he took a seat at the base of the couch with Thad, Michael, Kendrick, Oliver, and Trent.

"_Mozart found his calling at age five, composing his first minuet. Picasso discovered his talent for painting when he was nine. Tiger Woods swung his first club well before his second birthday. Me? I was eight when I discovered my purpose in life..."_

* * *

><p>Everyone woke up on Sunday morning in mostly the same position they had fallen asleep in on Saturday night: slumped all over couches, covered in stale popcorn, and snuggling with anyone within arm's reach. Jeff and Nick had given up on any pretense of sitting during <em>Benny and the Jets<em>, and were spooning on the love seat. Charlie was sprawled on top of Lucas, snoring rather obnoxiously, and David had fallen asleep on the cheerleader's shoulder. The freshman and sophomores were in a puppy pile, and the couch of upperclassmen (Thad, Kendrick, Michael, Trent, Oliver, and Wes) were all sprawled on the floor in various combinations, except Wes, who was the one waking everyone up. Christine was leaning her head on Chris' shoulder, and Chris had slumped backwards in his sleep, his head resting on the couch that had been behind him. Kurt found himself snuggled quite comfortably into Blaine's chest, and Marcus (to his amusement) had fallen to the floor at some point without waking himself up. The only part of Marcus still on the couch was his feet.

"Come on, everyone, it's time to wake up, and you all need showers!" Wes yelled, banging a wooden spoon against a pan he had stolen from the kitchen below them. "This entire room is B.O. bottled, and breakfast closes in an hour." _That_ got everyone up, most guys just stumbling out of the room in the same clothes they had worn on Saturday. Only a select few bothered heading towards their dorms.

"Sorry," Kurt said needlessly as he extricated himself from Blaine's octopus hold.

"It's fine," Blaine said with a laugh, stretching and- wow. Wes was right. They really needed showers. "We keep waking up like this," he joked as he kicked Marcus to wake him up. Marcus jolted, and his feet falling to the floor finally woke him up. "You've got to be hurting," he said to his moonlighter, who had spent most of the night hanging off the couch with his back contorted.

"You have no idea," Marcus said with a groan. "My parents are going to wonder what the hell I've been doing all weekend."

"Make sure you come up with a story suitably crazy enough to be true," Blaine replied without thinking, making Marcus laugh.

"I'm not sure I have the imagination for that," Marcus replied as he and Blaine headed back towards Blaine's dorm.

"See you at breakfast," Blaine called back to Kurt as they headed upstairs, leaving Kurt to wake up his roommate and the girlfriend Kurt was positive hadn't intended to spend the night.

"Chris," he said, shaking his roommate. "Wake up, Chris, your girlfriend's going to be in a lot of trouble for having been here all night." At least, he assumed so. "Christopher!" he barked.

"I got this, Kurt," Michael said from behind him, and when Kurt turned, Michael was standing there with a Nerf gun. "We keep this around for the lazy ones." With that, he started shooting at everyone who was still sleeping, except for Jeff and Nick, who were too cute to separate. That certainly got Chris up in a hurry.

* * *

><p>"At least Chrissy's not as annoyed with me as she was before," Chris said cheerfully as he and Kurt walked to breakfast. Kurt had cut down on his moisturizing routine because of the lateness of the morning, and they still had twenty minutes left until breakfast closed (at noon. Which meant everyone in their dorm had slept till at least eleven. Except Wes).<p>

"I hope not," Kurt replied. "I'm not sure I can handle you whining for another week."

"Aren't you charming," Chris said with a roll of his eyes. "I thought you would be in a better mood, since you spent the last twelve hours or so snuggling with your crush while his ex was sleeping on the floor like a dog."

"I don't hate Marcus," Kurt said, and Chris didn't even wait until the end of the sentence before he was laughing. "What?"

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," Kurt chastised his roommate as they headed for the sparse food line. "If anything, I understand what he went through. I mean, I'm in the same boat, aren't I?"

"Except you haven't had sex with Blaine yet," Chris added nonchalantly, and Kurt looked around for eavesdroppers. Thankfully, everyone was too tired to care.

"What do you mean _yet_?"

"Figure it's bound to happen eventually," Chris said as he piled his plate with bacon, rubbing sleepiness out of his eyes. "The two of you have so much chemistry it's uncomfortable to be alone in a room with you."

"That's not... is that really true?"

"Hell yeah."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to _sleep_ with him."

"Maybe not right now, but I bet you will eventually," Chris teased.

"Chris, I've never..." Kurt trailed off.

"Shocker," Chris said dryly. "You can't even say it, can you?"

"Of course I can."

"Then say it."

"Say what?"

"_Sex_," Chris said, drawing out the word as much as possible and earning himself a weird look from the lunch lady. "Sex, sex, sex, sex-"

"Okay, I get it!"

"You're such a virgin," Chris said with a laugh as they paid and headed for the Warbler section.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Not bad. Just entertaining," Chris corrected as they sat down at their usual table.

"What's entertaining?" Charlie asked from his spot on Lucas' lap.

"Nothing," Kurt replied.

"Kurt's virginity," Chris said at the same time.

"Isn't it?" Charlie said with a grin. Kurt smacked Chris' arm as he sat down in the space someone had left between Marcus and Blaine for him. The week definitely had improved.

"Guys, be nice to Kurt," Lucas admonished, pressing a kiss to the back of Charlie's neck.

"You're only saying that because you would like to _have_ Kurt's virginity," Charlie muttered, and Lucas sighed. Was Charlie... jealous? It seemed to be an argument Lucas was used to having.

"Charlie, can we not talk about this now?" Lucas asked, but Charlie just sniffed and moved to sit next to him, instead of on top of him. Lucas' arms caught Charlie around the waist, pulling him so Lucas could talk in his ear.

"I thought we were done with all of the couples being on the fritz," Michael complained from the other side of the table.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you're leaving." Kurt could. And he was excited about it. Blaine didn't even seem all that upset.<p>

"I can," Marcus echoed Kurt's thought. "This week has been the equivalent of a dramatic lifetime, and I'm quite ready to be done with this entire school."

"Including me?" Blaine asked, sounding mock-hurt.

"Maybe not you," Marcus said, bumping Blaine's hip with his and smiling. Then Marcus caught himself flirting and stopped. "But seriously, this school is a disaster. The diocese must be so ashamed of you."

"Well, it's not like we act this way in public!" Blaine exclaimed with a laugh. "We can be very proper, but not here. Here is our little slice of heaven."

"Depending on your definition of heaven," Marcus teased. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I might actually miss this place."

"You're welcome to join us," Blaine said with a smile.

"Not that much," Marcus said, and they had finally reached the front office, where the headmaster would say the official goodbyes to Marcus, and he would have the Student Ambassadors help Marcus pack his car, and Marcus would drive off into the sunset, hopefully never to return.

"I guess I'll see you sometime," Blaine said, giving Marcus a tight hug before releasing him. Headmaster Fournier was waiting inside the office for Marcus.

"Bye, Blay." Blaine still blushed at that nickname. "Can you give us a sec?" Marcus asked, gesturing between himself and a suddenly-unhappy Kurt.

"Uh... sure," Blaine said, clearly not taking Kurt's expression into account on his decision.

Marcus waiting until Blaine was out of earshot before turning to Kurt. "So, I guess this is the moment you've been waiting for all week."

"Honestly? Yes," Kurt said, and that made Marcus laugh.

"I definitely won't miss you, Dorothy, but I do wish you luck."

"Really?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Marcus said with a sigh. "Blaine's a catch, and a pretty good guy, and if I know him at all, I think he likes you a little more than he's willing to admit, even to himself. Take care of him."

"I'll do my best."

"Make sure he's not too much of an idiot to you. He does that."

"I'm well aware," Kurt said dryly, and Marcus laughed.

"Truce?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Truce," Kurt agreed, shaking it and then being surprised to be pulled into a bro hug.

"I'll see you later, Dorothy."

"I have to ask," Kurt said before Marcus could walk into the front office. "Dorothy?"

"Blaine told me how much you love Judy Garland," Marcus replied, leaning in the doorway. "I'm sure this'll make your day; you're what we talked about ninety-nine percent of the time we were alone. Blaine's crazy about you, even if he doesn't know it yet."

"Oh." Well, that certainly changed Kurt's mental perspective. "Thanks, Marcus."

"Don't mention it, Dorothy." Marcus ducked into the front office and was subsequently gone from Kurt's life. He might actually be a loss.

"So when did you become friends with Marcus?" Blaine asked as Kurt walked back over towards him.

"I have no idea," Kurt answered honestly.

* * *

><p>It was nice that it was just the two of them as they walked down the hall again. Marcus' silent but weighty presence wasn't missed by either of them (Kurt assumed). "I think we should talk to Wes." Then again, there was always the fact that Kurt could avoid <em>that <em>particular issue when Marcus was around.

"What do you want to say to him? 'I'm sorry that the guy you're in love with is such an asshole?'"

"If that'll make him feel better," Blaine said, obviously not understanding the idea of a rhetorical question.

"I don't think anything will make him feel better right now, Blaine. I think we just need to give him time to decide what he's going to do, and if David's really worth chasing after what happened in the cafeteria the other day." Because _that_ was awful.

"Please?" Blaine busted out the begging, and Kurt sighed, knowing he could never say 'no' to Blaine. He was that cute.

"Fine. We'll stop by Wes' room."

They turned down the hallway which now housed Wes' dorm and the dorm Charlie was nicely sharing with David. Charlie and Lucas were pressed up against the door to Charlie and David's dorm, Charlie fumbling for the key as Lucas... Kurt didn't really want to focus on what Lucas' hands were doing.

The surprise was Wes' room. A very feminine giggle floated out of the open door. "Hey, Wes... who's this?" Blaine asked as they ducked into Wes' dorm and were greeted not only by Wes, but also a blonde... Kurt hated the demeaning tone of the word 'bombshell' but there was really no other word for her. She was tiny, probably about 5'3", with proportions that reminded Kurt of his old Barbies. She had curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes and yes, she was gorgeous.

"Oh, Blaine, this is Alison, my girlfriend." How did that make sense? Well, it did, she was wearing a Crawford Country Day uniform, but why was _she_ dating _Wes_? "Alison, this is Blaine and Kurt."

"Aw, you two are _so _cute. Are you dating?" Judging by her wicked smile, she was saying that just to embarrass them.

"Very funny," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes and a flush to his cheeks. "No, we're not."

"Your blush says otherwise." She had a very melodic voice. It rose and fell perfectly to her words. That, Kurt decided, was what Daisy Buchanan's voice sounded like.

"Did you guys want to talk to me about something?" Wes asked.

"Yeah. Alison, may we steal your boyfriend for a moment?" She grinned.

"Permission granted as long as you eventually give him back, and don't turn him over to the dark side." She laughed, but it wasn't as funny as it should have been.

Wes followed the two of them out into the hallway. Blaine stared him down, but he wasn't making eye contact, apparently finding a renewed appreciation for the pattern of Dalton's rug. "She's very pretty," Blaine said shortly.

"She's gorgeous. Smart, talented, sweet. A great sense of humor. What's not to love?" Wes asked tightly.

"None of that explains why she's _here_," Blaine whispered, and Kurt made the executive decision to close the door behind them, Alison giving him a quick smile as he did.

"I'm done, Blaine," Wes announced. "I'm so done. I've spent my entire life chasing someone who's not only willing to admit that they're in love with me, but won't even face that fact that they're attracted to men. I can't handle it. I have a _beautiful_ girl in there, who's charismatic and fun and is willing to admit that she loves me. That's all I need right now. So, it's done. _Everything's_ done. The relationship, the fighting, the friendship, the sex," Wes sounded a little sad about that last one. "I'm letting him back into the room, and we'll see if maybe we can manage to be friends again, but I can't handle this anymore."

"Wes-" Kurt tried to interrupt

"This is my decision, Blaine, Kurt," Wes continued, "and it's final. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to go prove David wrong." Blaine wrinkled his nose, and it clicked in Kurt's head what Wes meant.

"Is that seriously why you brought her here?" Kurt asked in a hush. "I'm ashamed of you, Wesley, I thought you were a better man than that. You _know_ David just said that to hurt you in front of all the people who don't know about the two of you. Are you seriously going to let that define your relationship with a woman whom, I noticed, you haven't once mentioned if you love?" Wes sighed.

"No, but that's what I'm telling David."

"Tell him anything you want," Blaine said, "but I can't believe you would stoop so low." Wes ignored him and headed back towards his dorm. "Wes," Blaine called out after him, and Wes turned but didn't come back. "You asked us what's not to love about her. Maybe that's the question you should be asking yourself." Wes turned back around, heading into his dorm, slamming and locking the door on the way. Kurt heard Alison's melodic voice ask 'everything all right?' and Wes' voice (rough in comparison) reply 'fine,' before the squeak of bedsprings.

* * *

><p>Lucas left around lunchtime, and so did Alison, who gave Wes <em>quite<em> a kiss as she went. David saw just enough of it that he looked absolutely pained... which was probably Wes' intention. After he had walked Alison to her car, he went to talk to David and Charlie, and between the three of them they got David moved back into his room with Wes.

"I would pay to be a fly on the wall in that room tonight," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand casually as they walked away from the cafeteria.

"I don't think you would hear much," Kurt replied. "It'll sure be tense though."

"Do you think flies can feel human tension?"

"I think you worry too much." Blaine was tugging gently on his arm, leading him somewhere. "Where are we going?"

"The first empty lounge we can find." Kurt resisted the urge to point out how suggestive that sounded.

Eventually, they ended up in the Clerik building, where Kurt had first worried about Pavarotti molting and Blaine had been quick to comfort and reassure him. Kurt smiled at the memory. "Why are we up here?" he asked.

"Because," Blaine said, pulling out a guitar from behind the piano. "Things are a little awkward between us right now, I know, but I thought we could still have a little fun jammin' together."

"'Jammin'?'"

"Don't mock me, Hummel," Blaine said mock-sternly. "Come on, sing with me."

"What are we singing?"

"You know this. And it's not romantic at all so..." Blaine shrugged, "not awkward."

Blaine started strumming on the guitar, and he was right. Kurt did know this.

**I walked through the door with you, the air was cold  
><strong>**But something about it felt like home somehow  
><strong>_**And I left my scarf there at your sister's house  
><strong>__**And you've still got it in your drawer, even now**_

_Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze  
><em>_We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate  
><em>_**Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place  
><strong>__**And I can picture it after all these days**_

How did Blaine not think this song was romantic? It was all about lost love and memories of times that were better, filled with happiness and light and sweet little moments that can never be repeated. Blaine smiled as he sang the first few lines, obviously thinking about the time he had spent at the Hudson-Hummel household. They pointed back and forth to settle parts as Blaine perched on the arm of the couch and Kurt sat on a stool next to him.

**And I know it's long gone  
><strong>**And that magic's not here no more  
><strong>**And I might be okay  
><strong>**But I'm not fine at all**

_**'Cause there we are again on that little town street  
><strong>__You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over at me  
><em>**Wind in my hair,**_ I was there, __**I remember it all too well**_

**Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red  
><strong>_You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-size bed  
><em>_And your mother's telling stories about you on the tee-ball team  
><em>**You tell me about your past, thinking your future was me**

Kurt could picture that one, Blaine as a little kid. That was probably an exact description of Blaine as a child, him with glasses, reading a book in a tiny bed instead of playing outside, and later his mom telling embarrassing stories about his lack of athletic ability. Kurt couldn't help but smile as he sang it, and Blaine rolled his eyes. Kurt tried not to focus too much on the last line.

_And I know it's long gone  
><em>_And there was nothing else I could do  
><em>_And I forget about you long enough  
><em>_To forget why I needed to..._

_**'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night  
><strong>_**We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light  
><strong>_Down the stairs,_** I was there, **_**I remember it all too well,**__ yeah_

Singing with Blaine (and maybe flirting a little) was definitely fun, especially as the tempo picked up and Blaine got involved with the chords of the song. Plus, it was nice to sing _with_ him rather than singing _behind_ him, though Kurt was pretty sure Blaine was still getting the majority of the lines. Still, they sounded amazing together.

**Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much  
><strong>**But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up  
><strong>**Running scared, I was there, I remember it **_**all too well**_

_Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise  
><em>_So casually cruel in the name of being honest  
><em>_I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here  
><em>_**'Cause I remember it **__all,_**all, **_**all... too well**_

These lyrics hit home, but Kurt tried not to focus on it too much. Blaine could be cruel, not that he ever meant to, but he just didn't think through what he did and... well, a policy of being entirely honest with one another didn't really work out for them a lot of the time.

_Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it  
><em>_I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it  
><em>_After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own  
><em>_**Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone**_

**But you keep my old scarf from that very first week  
><strong>_'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me  
><em>_**You can't get rid of it 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah  
><strong>_

_'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so  
><em>**Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known  
><strong>**It was rare,** _I was there,__** I remember it all too well**_

**Wind in my hair,** _you were there,_ _**you remember it all  
><strong>__Down the stairs,_ **you were there,** _**you remember it all  
><strong>_**It was rare,** _I was there,_ _**I remember it all too well**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alison = Megan Hilty**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Drops of Jupiter_' by Train (mentioned)  
>'<em>Benny and the Jets'<em> by Elton John (mentioned)  
>'<em>All Too Well<em>' by Taylor Swift (**Bold** **- Blaine**, _Italics - Kurt_, _**Bold Italics - Both)**_


	30. Baiting the Dragon

**A/N: I've tried to get out of the habit of leaving notes at the top and bottom, but this is absolutely necessary. It's a tremendous milestone. Thirty chapters! Over two hundred reviews. Just... thank you guys so much for being awesome readers. I love you all. As a reward, for those who are actually reading this, I will post two chapters today.**

* * *

><p>"I haven't quite decided if I want to speak to you," Blaine said, knocking gently on Wes' open door on Monday after classes.<p>

"You're upset with me over nothing," Wes said with a sigh, turning in his desk chair to face Blaine.

"I hate to sound like Charlie, but... elaborate."

"I didn't... Alison and I didn't... David's still right," Wes stuttered out with a frown. Blaine resisted the urge to smile, because yes, it was good that Wes hadn't taken advantage of Alison's feelings for him when he didn't return those feelings, but he didn't, because he knew how much Wes was hurting, and he couldn't be happy when one of his best friends was in pain.

"I'm proud of you." No reply. "Where's David?" Blaine asked, looking around the room. David hadn't gotten around to unpacking back into his old room, so most of his clothes were under his bed in suitcases, and the only thing on his desk was a lone textbook. His closet was still empty, and his side of the room still looked kind of deserted.

"I don't care," Wes said rather icily. "He's probably out at Crawford Country Day, chasing tail and relishing in the fact that he embarrassed me in front of the entire school."

"Wes, you know David didn't say that to hurt you." One moment the words were flying out of his mouth, the next a rock paperweight was flying at his face. "Jesus!" Blaine exclaimed, ducking it.

"How can you even say that?" Wes demanded. "He's done nothing but hurt me since the moment we met."

"And how can _you_ say that?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow. "If that were true, you wouldn't be in love with him."

Wes sighed. "I'm trying to do the mature thing, Blaine. I'm _trying_ to be the bigger person, to get over him, to try to reestablish the friendship that I ruined the moment I kissed him in eighth grade. It's just... it's not as easy to see him as my best friend again as I thought it would be."

"Maybe you just need some more time?" Blaine asked, sitting down on David's bed and knowing he wouldn't mind. "David could move back in with Charlie-"

"Proximity really isn't an issue," Wes cut him off. "I have to see him and talk to him every day, it doesn't matter if I'm rooming with him. Kicking him out was just a fit of immaturity."

"And flying his underwear was what? A matter of personal pride?"

Wes sniffed. "I suppose I don't take well to my authority being challenged." That was the understatement of the century, but Blaine didn't really feel like this was the proper moment for pointing out Wes' flaws.

"So what are you going to do about him?" Blaine asked gently, well aware that he was baiting a sleeping dragon.

"I'm going to sit here and do my homework and be his roommate and friend. I'm going to leave the room when he asks so he can entertain a smorgasbord of women in whom he really isn't all that interested. I'm going to date Alison and pretend to be happy and want more than anything to openly be with my best friend, like I have been for years. I'm going to burn and pine and perish, and someday I'll hopefully get over him and be able to move on with my life." Wes sighed. "It's really my only option."

It was the most hopeless thing he had ever heard except in movies, and it just about broke Blaine's heart to see his best friend in so much pain. "Do you think you could ever love Alison?"

"I think a small part of me does, and the answer to that is 'maybe,' but absolutely nothing will ever compare to the way I love David." Wes buried his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm so fucked."

"Do you really think you should give up? I mean, you know David returns your feelings, could you make it work?"

Blaine almost expected Wes to explode at him in response to his admittedly stupid question, but when he looked up, there was endless pain and resignation in his eyes. "David will never admit to loving me, and while I could probably float our relationship until I go away to college, that's not what I want. I want someone I could see myself having a future with, even if my vision is completely unrealistic and this is high school. I will never be more than something casual to David. So, yes, I really think I should give up. It's time, Blaine."

"It's never too late, Wes." Wes looked up at him again with those pained eyes, and his lips twisted into the grossest imitation of a smile.

"I guess I have all the time in the world then."

* * *

><p>"I'm worried about Wes."<p>

"You always seem to be." Blaine glanced over at Kurt, surprised by his icy-cold reaction. "What? I'm just saying, Wes' emotions have been in such turmoil lately, have you ever considered that the best thing for him is for you to stop being so interventionist and give him some space to sort through his own head?"

No, he hadn't, so he stopped to consider it. "When did you get so wise?" he teased as they stood in line at the Lima Bean.

"When I started watching Oprah." Blaine snorted, bumping his best friend's shoulder with his.

"You're ridiculous."

"So is your gel collection."

"Really, we're back to that?"

"Always."

Blaine couldn't help but marvel at the easy banter. This was the most relaxed his relationship with Kurt had been since Valentine's Day. It was odd that it had reverted for seemingly no reason, but it was nice to have his best friend back.

"Medium drip and-"

"A grande nonfat mocha for your boyfriend," the barista filled in with a smile, and Blaine stared up at her in shock. "What? Don't look at me like that. You two are nothing if not predicable and cute. I'm not even going to tell you your total, because you should know it by now." How many times had they had this barista?

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who had at first been staring at the barista in equal shock, but had regained his composure a lot faster than Blaine had. "We're not dating."

"_Oh_." The barista blushed a brilliant pink. "I'm sorry, I just assumed. I mean, you two are always together and alone and I've never seen you split the bill and you share food and..." she blushed a little brighter. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't worry about it," Blaine said, finding his voice and his manners again. "Common mistake." He handed over the cash (yes, for both of them. Just because it kind of perpetuated this barista's idea, doesn't mean he was going to break their tradition. And yes, sadly, he already knew the exact amount for a medium drip and a grande nonfat mocha). Hopefully, this random girl's comment wouldn't drive that awkward wedge back between him and Kurt.

"'Common mistake?'" Kurt quoted as he followed Blaine to the pick-up line.

"Between her, the Warblers, and the New Directions, that's about ninety nine point nine percent of the people we know," Blaine joked, hoping Kurt wouldn't take this too seriously.

"I suppose," was all Kurt said in reply. "So what were you saying about Wes the asshole?"

"He didn't sleep with Alison."

"So what were you saying about Wes, our poor, sweet, beloved captain?" Kurt corrected himself seamlessly, making Blaine laugh.

"Nothing new. I just don't think he knows how to handle this situation, but I don't know how to help him."

Kurt shrugged. "You can't. The only person that can really fix this is David, and he's miles away from being the one that approaches Wes. He's so far in the closet, he's reached Narnia." Blaine tried really hard not to laugh at that, since it was just a little insensitive, but it was just _so true_.

"Fair enough." That, of course, gave Blaine a whole other potential course of action. "Do you think I should try talking to David?"

"Do you really want things thrown at you?"

"Wes already threw things at me."

"David will throw heavier things."

"I have good reflexes."

"Didn't I just talk you out of intervening like two minutes ago?"

"You talked me out of intervening on Wes' emotionally-confused side. David's kind of the problem here, though I know going through what he's going through isn't easy, and I think I should talk to him."

"I really do hope he throws heavy things at you. Preferably at your head."

"How are things with the New Directions?"

"Very subtle subject change."

"Whatever."

"And the New Directions have been remarkably silent for the past seventy-two hours," Kurt said with a kind of rueful smile. "I'm expecting a panicked call from Rachel at any moment, her vaguely rambling on about things she can't really tell me about without being the traitor we have repeatedly accused her of being."

"Things with the New Directions are never boring, are they?"

"No, but to be fair, it hasn't exactly been boring here, either."

"This is true. Maybe it's just high school."

"More specifically, it's just high schoolers."

"Touché."

* * *

><p>"You know, I almost miss having a roommate," Charlie said casually, sitting down next to Blaine at dinner.<p>

"Really?"

"Not even a little bit! I'm free, bitch!" he announced loudly, but no one was paying him any attention.

"You know, if I didn't actually take classes, I would start to wonder if there really are teachers at this school," Kurt muttered to himself, making Chris laugh. Even at McKinley, people didn't swear so openly and so loudly in a public place.

"Oh, there are four teachers in this room, they've just all given up on Charlie," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "You could try being a little more sensitive towards Wes and David, you know."

"I could also be a giant ass sap like you, Blaine, but that's never going to happen either. Seriously, if I didn't know better, I would wonder if you were secretly a girl."

"I would roll my eyes again, but if I reacted as such every time you made me want to, I would have a permanent migraine."

"It would be better than having a permanent stick up your ass," Charlie shot back, consuming an absolutely repulsive amount of fries.

"Between your attitude and your table manners, it really is amazing that someone loves you." From anyone else, that would be _extremely _rude, but not a word that passed between Charlie and Blaine in public was serious. It was a fascinating dynamic.

"Like your table manners are _so_ much better," Charlie commented, flicking some ketchup at Blaine's shirt. "Besides, you're just jealous that no one loves you."

"Rude... and untrue, for that matter." Kurt felt Charlie's eyes flicker over to him, but he knew his crazy friend wouldn't say anything.

"Well, no _male_ someone, anyway."

"Charlie, I am not interested in girls. Never have been, never will be. And of that, I am absolutely positive." Blaine rolled his eyes again, despite the migraine Kurt could actually tell he was getting by how twitchy he was.

"Well, you know what they say about the guys who try to fake it," Charlie said with a shrug.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaine asked, sounding incredibly wary of the answer. After all, no one could anticipate Charlie. It was just impossible.

"I can't even tell if that's a sex joke or not," Jeff commented from next to Chris, and he earned several high fives for that. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come _on_," Charlie said to Blaine, not replying to Jeff's comment except to give the grinning boy a high five himself. "You know what that means. Gay guys who either try to act super straight and masculine so that they're fit in but are still out, or who overcompensate like hell. Personally, I think you do both."

"I do _not_ overcompensate!"

"Have you _seen_ your arms lately? I mean, day-um, but still." Charlie could be the sassiest person sometimes, and Kurt loved him for that. "Anyway, acting the way you do is pretty much the recipe for trying to make people forget that you're gay. You are _so_ one of those guys." Blaine huffed rather indignantly.

"I am not! Everyone knows I'm gay, and I admit to liking not-so-straight stuff."

"But only around me and other welcoming homos like Kurtsie," Charlie continued.

"Just because I don't want people defining me by my sexuality, doesn't mean I'm trying to make everyone forget that I'm gay," Blaine argued, and how exactly had they gotten into this argument at dinner?

"Whatever you say, oh dedicated football fan," Charlie said, rolling his eyes and stealing a forkful of Blaine's spaghetti. Blaine huffed again, but allowed it.

"He kind of has a point, you know," David said, leaning over Charlie to say it, and clearly he hadn't gotten the idea that all of the Warblers who knew (and that had to be about all of them at this point) were angry with him.

"You're one to talk," Blaine snapped under his breath, and David immediately withdrew from the conversation. Judging by Blaine's current mood and the way he kept rubbing his temples, not only would Blaine be in an _awful_ mood later, but David was going to pay for that comment.

* * *

><p>Kurt tried to knock softly on Blaine's door at about eight o'clock, but since his knock was greeted by a moan from the other side of the door, he guessed his attempts hadn't been successful. "Come in," Blaine's voice greeted him quietly through the door.<p>

"How are you feeling?" Kurt whispered as he walked into the room and the squeak Blaine's door made was greeted by another groan.

"I would kill Charlie right now, but his screams would only aggravate my headache," Blaine muttered homicidally, and Kurt did his best not to laugh because he knew it would hurt Blaine's head.

Kurt walked over to the desk on the opposite side of the room from Blaine's bed (which, for some reason, was the one he liked to use and a true testament to how accustomed he had become to not having a roommate) and clicked off the light, descending the room into darkness. He also turned off Blaine's iPod stereo, because while Blaine claimed music helped his headaches, it probably really didn't. "How do you feel?" Kurt asked again, because he hadn't really gotten an answer the first time.

"Awful," Blaine muttered, barely audibly. "I'm cold but my head feels like it's on fire and is throbbing like the villain from Headbangers Ball is going at it." Kurt tried not to chuckle again. Blaine got very wry when he was annoyed. "I really am going to brutally murder Charlie."

"If you haven't yet, you're probably not going to." At least, that was what Blaine always said.

"True."

Thankfully, he knew where almost everything in Blaine's dorm room was, so without the aid of sight (because it was the last day of February and the light coming from the window between the beds really wasn't doing all that much), Kurt was still able to find all of the things he was looking for. He grabbed a few things out of the closet and ducked into the bathroom, tempted to turn on the light but knowing it would light up the whole room. He grabbed a cup Blaine had stolen from the kitchen (and would probably never return, but it wasn't exactly an uncommon habit) and filled it as he started riffling through the cabinets behind the mirror.

"I'm kind of curious as to what you're doing," Blaine muttered as Kurt approached his best friend and crush's bed again. Blaine was faced towards the wall, on his stomach, and it wasn't terribly helpful.

"On your back," Kurt ordered.

"Kurt, you know how much I love it when you barge in here and have your wicked, dominant way with me, but I'm really not in the mood." Kurt choked on his own spit at Blaine's words, and that finally made the tenor roll over. "Sorry. Too far?"

"You really do have a bad headache, don't you?" Kurt whispered in reply, but he couldn't help but smile. Blaine looked so cute, buried under his covers, hair only half-gelled and wearing... "Is that a Fonzie t-shirt?" Kurt asked, pulling down Blaine's covers a little to confirm that he had in fact seen the top of the Fonz's head.

Blaine pulled the covers up before Kurt could see the whole t-shirt. "Tell no one."

"You're a dork," Kurt said, and he couldn't help laughing softly. "I..." But no, that could be taken the wrong way. Kurt swallowed the words. "If you're done geeking out over Happy Days-"

"Shoot me now-"

"I think I have some things to help you with your migraine." Kurt handed Blaine the glass of water and Excedrin first before tucking Blaine in with some extra blankets.

"Kurt, I'm going to overheat," Blaine complained as he swallowed the medication, placing the glass of water on the bedside table turned bookshelf next to his bed.

"No you won't," Kurt said with a smile, placing the cool, damp washcloth on Blaine's head as soon as he laid back down in his cocoon.

Blaine sighed with relief. "You're the best." Blaine's eyes closed as he readjusted on the bed, and Kurt almost absentmindedly traced down the side of his face with two fingers before he caught himself. "Thank you," Blaine breathed out, leaning into the touch like it didn't bother him at all. Considering how overheated his skin felt, it probably didn't.

"You sure you're okay?" If Blaine had a fever, it probably wasn't just a migraine.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Migraines manifest themselves in a bunch of horrible ways. Like, for example, my stomach is rolling right now, even though I haven't eaten anything that might upset it."

"I'll get you a bucket." Kurt stood up, grabbing Blaine's glass of water after noticing that he had drained almost half of it taking the Excedrin.

"Kurt?" Kurt turned around at the sound of his name. "Thank you, for this."

"No problem," Kurt said as he continued into the bathroom to refill Blaine's water. He also grabbed the trash can at the end of the bed that wasn't Blaine's, which looked like it was barely used.

"No, I'm serious," Blaine continued, and Kurt noticed him wince out of the corner of his eye when he raised his own voice. "I know this must be hard for you."

"What do you mean?" Kurt said, hoping that this part of their interactions was over.

"You know what I mean," Blaine whispered as Kurt placed the water on Blaine's bedside table and rested the trash can next to him on the bed. "Thank you."

"No problem... and I mean that." Kurt gave his best friend a kiss on the cheek. "Should I come check on you later?"

"No thanks. I'll probably be asleep within minutes," Blaine said with a chuckle. "I always get really worn out by these things. Once the Excedrin kicks in, I'll be out like a light."

"All right. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Kurt." Blaine didn't say thank you again. He didn't have to.

* * *

><p>Kurt had argued with Blaine a little bit when he had showed up for classes the next day, but his migraine really had receded, and he was even able to converse with Charlie without the throbbing pain returning. Migraines really were the worst, and as he knocked on the door down the hallway, he had a feeling he would have another one after the conversation he was about to have finished.<p>

"Hey, Blaine," David said casually as he opened the door. Blaine took a quick look around, but as he suspected, Wes wasn't in there. Even though Wes claimed he was able to handle having David as a roommate, the two were rarely in there at the same time, unless they were sleeping. And Blaine had never seen any proof that they actually both slept there...

"Can I come in?" Blaine asked casually, as if David wouldn't want to kick him out in a moment, because he probably really, _really_ would.

"Yeah, sure. Wes is out-" David began saying as he stepped out of the way of the door.

"I don't want to talk to Wes," Blaine interrupted, because yeah, it kind of made sense that David would make that assumption with everything that had happened lately. "I want to talk to you."

"I can't say that isn't exactly a surprise," David said with a roll of his eyes. "But what's up? Have a great prank you want to pull off?" he asked with a grin. "Or is this about the Warblers? Because if it is, you should really talk to Crazy and his pet gavel," David jerked his head in the direction of Wes' bed.

"Actually, this is about Wes." That stopped David in his tracks.

"_What_ about Wes?" David tried to act casual, but Blaine could sense his nerves, and as annoyed as he was with David about everything he had done to the man in love with him, he had to remember that this was difficult for him too.

"I know." David stared at Blaine as if he didn't know what he was talking about. "About you and Wes."

"_What_ about me and Wes?" David asked, and he sounded considerably less casual and considerably more angry. This was going to be like pulling teeth wasn't it? And like walking in a minefield. Joy.

"That your relationship with Wes wasn't always strictly platonic," Blaine said gently.

David let out an angry huff. "I'll kill him. So this is way of getting back at me? Telling everyone behind my back now that he's finally accepted the reality that-"

"Wes didn't tell me, David," Blaine interrupted before David could get really angry and do something more stupid than what he had already done. "Kurt did, and he only found out because you and Wes were doing some things you shouldn't have been doing in the practice room." Blaine raised an eyebrow to illustrate his point.

David let out a heavy breath, but he didn't seem embarrassed at all. "So what? You're come to lecture me about how much Wes loves me. I _know_ Wes loves me, okay? I've known that for a long time."

"I'm not here to lecture you about Wes' feelings for you. I think I know you well enough to know that those have been heavy on your mind for a long time. I _am_ here to bitch you out about _humiliating_ him in the school cafeteria!"

"Blaine, I told you then and I'll tell you now: he needed to hear that!"

"On what planet is that something he needed to hear?"

"Because..." David sighed, letting his defensive anger go, "I think he thought that he was my one and only. I think he thought I didn't have any physical relationships with my girlfriends because he didn't. Perhaps I could have phrased it better-"

"Or not said it in front of the entire school-"

"But I said that because I know he's trying to get over me and I want to help. He never asked, but I think he assumed that I had never been with any of them because sometimes I would come to him when they were being frustrating."

"So, ignoring for the moment that you used Wes as your personal cold shower, you decided to announce to the entire school that Wes had never been with a woman which, since you've been forcing him into the closet for four years, made the school assume he was a virgin." Which had a ridiculous stigma on it in high school, but Blaine didn't want to turn this conversation into a philosophy debate.

"I never forced him into the closet!" David yelled, and clearly Blaine had struck a raw nerve. "He could have come out whenever the hell he wanted to!"

"I don't think he was ready to announce his sexuality when you weren't even ready to face yours!" Now Blaine was yelling, and this really wasn't how he had planned this to go.

"I'm not gay!"

As he would swear later when he told Kurt the story of this conversation, his hand moved of it's own accord, slapping David across the face so hard that the council member swung and collapsed to the ground. Whoops.

"All right, David, here's the deal. I didn't say you were gay, and neither is Wes, and you've made it _excruciatingly_ clear to the world that you like women," Blaine felt bad looming over David, who hadn't tried to get up from the ground yet, but he was almost certain that the tears forming in David's eyes were just from pain, "but I know you like Wes, I know you're attracted to Wes, and I know you _love_ Wes. Maybe I haven't witnessed the third part, but the first has been true for as long as you've been alive, and I'm still traumatized from witnessing the second part." Blaine was breathing hard at this point, but it was something that needed to be said. "So maybe you just need to get over yourself and accept it."

David had curled in on himself a little, his arms resting on his knees and his head buried in his arms. Oh crap. He _was_ crying. "David," Blaine continued in a softer voice, falling to his knees next to his friend with a sigh, "I know there were some moments when you considered being with Wes openly. I saw some of them at the last bonding event. Once I knew about the two of you, and I am obviously completely oblivious, so it took a while," David chuckled at that, his head still buried in his arms, and Blaine sat next to him, rubbing a hand down his back and wondering exactly when this conversation had gotten so out of control, "I saw all the little things in your relationship that should have been giant red flags, from the way you two interact everyday, to the love seat that you two had reserved for movie night, to the fact that you've had a couple name for as long as I've been at the school. What are you so afraid of?"

David didn't look up, and for a long time Blaine thought he wasn't going to answer, but eventually he sighed. "Ever since I was a little kid at St. Paul's, I've been an outcast. People thought I was weird, since I was so outgoing and tactile and the school was so religious. Wes has been the one constant in my life, the one person who knew exactly what I needed and could connect me to the rest of the student body, and-"

"I swear if you say 'I don't want to mess up our friendship,' I will slap you again. Harder," Blaine said, even though he didn't really mean it, and that earned enough of a chuckle from David that he emerged from his arms, wiping away his tears with his sleeve and leaning on Blaine a little. Blaine wrapped an arm around him.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. Wes was my first... everything, and I've cheated on every girlfriend I've ever had with him. We were together when I was an outcast, and then when I was upset, and then when either of us were lonely, and Wes told me he loved me for the first time after he almost got in a car accident." Blaine raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. This was the first time he was getting the full story, he certainly wasn't going to interrupt. "Then after things became a bit more... physical, it just became casual sex. We fought about Alison around Christmas, and we went back to being together when we were upset. Wes finally stopped that, but I just... I just couldn't do it anymore."

"While the back story is kind of nice, what's your point, David?" Blaine asked, and he finally got the answers he was looking for.

"I can't be with him because I can't stop looking at him and associating him with all of these memories. Every time I think of him, I relive all that pain and anger and fear and loneliness; that's all he's associated with in my mind. It's not healthy. Wes would agree with me that our relationship has never been that healthy. We've never really been together for the sole purpose of being together, and I'm not sure we ever can. Yes, I love him as a friend, I always have, but my feelings for him are so conflicted and intermixed with our past that I'm not sure I can ever fall in love with him. I know I'm not straight, I don't know what I am and I don't care, but I know I'm not straight, and I know my feelings for him are more than platonic or brotherly. I just... beyond that, I don't know anything. I don't think I can be with him the way he wants me to be." David spilled all of this out within a minute, words falling out of his mouth and tumbling and twisting together in the air. Blaine probably took five minutes to untangle and process everything he had just heard, and reached one conclusion.

"Wow." Yes, he had known there were some deeper feelings going on between Wes and David, but he had never imagined that. That was... beyond what he knew how to handle. "So, to shorten that mess of pain and insecurity, you and Wes have never had a healthy relationship, and because of that you're not sure if you ever can?"

"Essentially," David muttered, and he was crying again.

"So why did you lie to him?" David looked at Blaine in surprise, wiping away his tears with his now absolutely-disgusting sleeve. "Why did you tell him," Blaine asked as he reached up to get David a few tissues, "that you only like girls and that you're not attracted to him and that you don't love him and never will?" Because that had been incredibly brutal.

"I didn't want to get his hopes up, and I guess I've been trying to squash the relationship all along. The _moment_ Wes first told me he loved me, I could have told him everything I was feeling, but I was stupid at the time and settled for not saying it back, and now I'm caught invariably in a web of heartbreaking love and affection. And I don't know if I love him, or if I every will be able to, that part's true, but the rest is lies. I guess I was just trying to convince both of us that what was going on was casual." David cleaned up his face and nose with the tissues Blaine had handed him as he talked.

"David, I think you need to talk to Wes about this, tell Wes what you just told me. Because you broke his heart, but I think if you told him all of that, he would understand better than I do. After all, he lived all of that along with you."

"You're a good friend," David said after several minutes of contemplative silence.

"I just want you and Wes to be happy."

"Thank you for slapping me." That made Blaine chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm emotionally attached to this now."

"No, I mean it," David said, and Blaine looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "I think it was the wake-up call that I needed to make me stop lying to myself... and Wes."

"Oh." Blaine shrugged. "Well, then you're sincerely welcome."

"I think..." David swallowed. "I think I should go find Wes."

"I agree. Maybe you should wait a few minutes, though. Wash the tears away and calm your nerves a little. It won't exactly be an easy conversation."

"You know everything, don't you?"

"I try," Blaine said, giving his friend a kiss on the temple. "Come on, get up." Blaine hauled himself to his feet with a groan and then offered a hand to David. David, for some reason, snickered as he excepted the help up.

"You want to hear something funny?"

"No, I definitely want to have more serious, heavy, emotional conversation," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes, and David punched him in the arm. Hard. Maybe he hadn't appreciated being slapped as much as he had pretended to.

"Since Wes has been down so much lately, and you've been trying to cheer him up, and you guys have spent so much time alone, a lot of people kind of think you're banging my... Wes." David looked more like he was trying to tamp down jealousy than he did amused. And then Blaine realized he was _asking_, and he was suddenly very amused.

"Well, people are stupid. Except for Charlie. He seems to have strange closeted-couple-dar." David snorted.

"He's strange in all sorts of ways." David coughed. "Well, I'll get cleaned up and then go find Wes." David headed for his bathroom, but Blaine had to say one more thing.

"David," he called out, and the boy turned around. "I hope people have some reason to dispel that rumor soon."

"Why?" David asked, and when Blaine was about to elaborate on what he meant, David smirked. "Are you worried Kurt will be jealous?" And with that, he closed the bathroom door behind him.

* * *

><p>Blaine knocked on Kurt's door before classes, too excited to wait. He hadn't heard anything more about Wes and David, but hopefully David had been sincere (he honestly couldn't imagine David being a good enough actor to pull <em>that <em>off if he wasn't) and he really was talking to Wes about everything he had told Blaine. "_Kurt_," he whined at the closed door when there was no response to his rapid fire knocks.

"One second," Kurt's voice came from the other side of the door, and Blaine was probably outside for two more minutes until Kurt opened it, dressed only in his uniform gray slacks and white shirt. "I was getting dressed," he explained, gesturing to himself and the blazer, tie, and shoes still over by his bed.

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Blaine asked as he invited himself in, sitting on Chris' empty bed.

"I moisturized before I got dressed today," Kurt replied with a shrug. "That's what I do at home, and since Chris is at early morning basketball practice, I figured I could revert to my old habits. I'll be ready to go to breakfast in a second."

"I think I may have saved Wes and David's relationship," Blaine blurted out, unable to contain his news for one more second. Kurt sighed.

"Is there a reason you've suddenly become Charlie when it comes to this?" Blaine raised an eyebrow in response to the question, and Kurt explained. "You're completely over-involving yourself in this. It's their business."

"Perhaps I've become a little Charlie-esque with this one," Blaine explained, a little hurt by Kurt's words, "but I love Wes and David. They've been two of my best friends since I got here, and I can't stand seeing either one of them upset." Kurt sighed again.

"I'm sorry. You know I would do the same for any of the New Directions."

"Your club name sounds so dirty when said really fast."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Blaine."

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

"I hate you."

"Duly noted."

"So, I'm guessing you went to talk to David as I told you not to?" Kurt asked, tying his tie as he spoke.

"Yes, and he was really angry at first, but after I slapped him-"

"You _slapped_ him?" Kurt asked in shock, twirling around to face Blaine.

"My hand moved of its own accord!" Blaine defended himself, but Kurt just rolled his eyes. "Besides, he thanked me for it later."

"Warblers are weird," Kurt muttered to himself as he put on his blazer.

"Anyway, after I slapped him, he kind of started crying and telling me all about his relationship with Wes before I met the two of them, and the part I didn't know about until lately, and he kind of outlined for me why he told Wes he can't be with him. And I hate to take his side, since he's been such an asshole to Wes lately, but what he said made sense. His relationship with Wes has never been healthy, and I understand why he's confused and conflicted."

"What's going on with the two of them now?" Kurt asked as he sat down to slip on his dress shoes and complete the outfit.

"I don't know. David said he was going to talk to Wes soon, but I haven't heard anything from either of them since then."

"Are you sure he went?" Kurt asked as he checked his hair in the mirror. He was ridiculously fastidious about his appearance.

"I'm sure that he needed to, and I hope he did."

"You're such an optimist," Kurt said as he fixed a strand of hair that didn't really look astray to Blaine.

"And you're such a pessimist lately. What's up with you?" Kurt had been a little off for the last few days, except when they got going with their banter.

"Nothing," Kurt said with a poorly-concealed sigh. "Shall we go to breakfast?"

* * *

><p>Despite Blaine's insistences that David had listened to him and talked to Wes, nothing happened at breakfast, or during morning classes, or at lunch, or during afternoon classes, and by the time he departed to his room at the end of the day (declining his best friend's usual offer to get coffee and leaving Blaine bewildered), he was tired of the subject. Which made him an <em>awful<em> person, but he was allowed to wallow in his own little pool of 'he doesn't love me back' misery, which is how he had been feeling since Marcus left. If Blaine was being honest with himself, there really wasn't any reason they couldn't be together, but nothing had happened, and they were reverting back to their old friendship, the way it had been before Valentine's Day. It was at the same time relieving and depressing, and it had possibly caused Kurt to be a little withdrawn from and snappy with Blaine for the past few days.

Kurt wasn't surprised when his phone rang as he laid on his bed, contemplating the state of his relationship with Blaine (or lack thereof). The New Directions had been silent for too long for comfort, and frankly, he wanted updates on what was going at McKinley. The surprising part was that it was Mercedes' name flashing on his screen, not Rachel's. Not that he didn't love and want to talk to his girl, but he had been much closer to Rachel lately, and Rachel called much more often. She had apparently made it her mission to keep him as close to the New Directions as possible, a goal that was closer to devious than sweet.

"'Cedes!" he squealed into the phone, happy to hear from her. "How are you?"

"_Bo, I am _fantabulous_, how are you? Having fun surrounded by all the hot, smart, sweet boys that exist in the world?_"

"And by that you mean the gay ones?"

"_Exactly._" They both laughed.

"You could say I'm definitely having fun, yes," Kurt said with a smile. He really was enjoying being at Dalton. He loved the school and quite a few people in it. "How are the New Directions? Are you the only person left in the carnage?"

"_Very funny, bo. Or, it would be funny if it didn't sometimes seem likely._" Kurt giggled at that. "_Anyway, we've got practice, so I can't talk long, but I wanted to see if you were available for a party on Friday?_"

"Whose party?" Kurt asked suspiciously, because the majority of McKinley wasn't exactly friendly towards him.

"_Drum roll please_." Kurt obediently placed his phone on his bed and beat his comforter with his hands, which would sound close enough for Mercedes, before bringing it back to his ear. "_I am calling to officially inform you of the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza_, _though I can't actually invite you because Rachel has such a stick up her ass. I would convince Finn to invite you. She still can't say no to him._"

"Wait, _Rachel_ is throwing a party?"

"_Yep_."

"_Our_ Rachel?"

"_Yep._"

"Our occasionally-beloved Rachel, who always keeps her nose clean?"

"_Yep. Apparently Puckerman is good for something, because he convinced her to have the party while her dads are out of town. Which is _now_._ _Friday at 6.__ You in_?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Kurt hesitated for just a moment before asking his next question. "Can I bring Blaine?"

"_It's not up to me who you bring, bo. But you better have something _major _on Finn if you're going to convince him to invite you _and _your boy toy._"

"I have the perfect thing."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, some cute if tense Klaine, some positive direction for Wevid, and Charlie being slightly psychic. I'm excited to start Blame It on the Alcohol. I really am.**

**More... right now!**

**Songs mentioned: none. Odd**

**Reviews are Love.**


	31. Blackmail Wevid

Kurt and Finn hadn't been living together for very long before Kurt started boarding at Dalton, but that hadn't stopped a couple of embarrassing incidents from happening. For example, the one time Finn had been forced to wake up at five in the morning (which was about the time everyone else in the house got up) and was so zombie-like that he had walked in on Kurt in the shower and subsequently got a loofa thrown at his head.

However, other incidents that weren't so embarrassing for Kurt could be used a prime blackmail material, something Mercedes was well aware of (though he had never told her specifics) and Kurt's planned avenue towards two invitations to Rachel's party that the hostess herself wouldn't object to was blackmail. He hadn't talked to Finn very much while he was at Dalton (Finn was always busy, and Kurt calling at the wrong moment could be _disastrous_ to his reputation. Cue eye roll), but he was planning to change that.

"Good morrow, brother," Kurt said with a smile as soon as Finn answered the phone.

"_Is that like... slang? Because I don't know what that means,_" Finn said hesitantly, and Kurt chuckled to himself. He had been at Dalton for too long; he hadn't been home since Valentine's Day.

"No, it's not slang, Finn. How are the New Directions?"

"_Uh, good. We're doing Alcohol Awareness Week or something like that. Are you guys preparing for Regionals?_"

"Now, Finn, you know I can't tell you about that," Kurt teased. "Trust me, Rachel's been digging around in the Warblers' affairs enough."

"_Whatever, little bro. Why are you calling?_"

"I can't be making a social call to my own brother?"

"_You haven't before._"

"Touché."

"_So? And why so early?_"

"Rumor has it-"

"_Quinn's didn't cheat on Sam with me!_" Finn objected immediately, and Kurt moved the phone an inch away from his ear.

"While we both know that's not true, it's a good attempt to dispel that particular rumor. However, that's not the rumor in question."

"_Could you just tell me what you're talking about?_" Finn asked warily. "_I deal with enough lunatic ch..._" Fortunately for his life, Finn trailed off.

"I will ignore the fact that you almost just referred to me as a psychotic _female_ because I have a favor to ask of you."

"_Anything, bro._" Then Finn appeared to think it through. "_Well, not _anything_, like I wouldn't-_"

"Finn, drop the shovel," Kurt said patiently. "And this is about Rachel's party. Still have reservations?"

"_Dude, no._"

"Finnegan."

"_You said Rachel found out about a Warbler affair or something. Can you imagine how badly she would flip if I invited a Warbler to her 'branching out' party?_"

"I'll ask what branching out means in the Germanic language that is Rachilian later. For the moment, I'm curious why you think my current status as a Warbler is more important than my former status as a New Directioneer."

"_Because Rachel's crazy,_" Finn said tersely, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"Fair enough." Kurt would try arguing for just a little bit longer. "Finn, I haven't been home or seen any of the New Directions since Valentine's Day. I miss you all." Finn's sigh came across as a rush of static.

"_Dude, just come home for the weekend. You'll see all of us anyway._"

"So, what's the difference?" Kurt couldn't quite hear Finn's mutter in reply, but it sounded a lot like 'you give me a headache.'

"_Kurt, you know I want you around, but I don't think that's gonna fly with Rachel, and I haven't exactly been the best guy towards her lately._" Damn. That was actually a decent thing to say.

"Fine." Kurt paused. "I didn't want to do this, Finnegan Christopher Hudson, but you leave me no choice."

"_What are you talking about?_" Finn sounded suspicious and a little afraid, as he should have.

"I borrowed your computer the other day, while you were at basketball practice, since you spilled Mountain Dew on mine and you thought I wouldn't notice, which is another conversation we'll have later, but you'll never believe what I found in your browser history."

"_You wouldn't,_" was Finn's immediate reaction, and Kurt couldn't stop an evil grin from spreading across his face. Charlie was wearing off on him.

"Of course, I was so shocked, I had to take a screen shot, making sure to include a portion of your Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader wallpaper, so that I could look at the time and date stamp later and confirm my horrors."

"_Dude-_"

"Blaine and I will _both_ be attending the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza on Friday, and _you_ are going to smooth things over with your crazy ex."

"_Mercedes told you, didn't she?_"

"Bye, Finn. I trust we have a gentleman's agreement?"

"_Yep._"

* * *

><p>Kurt hadn't actually yelled at Finn about the Mountain Dew issue (it wasn't exactly the first time a liquid had been spilled on it. Moisturizer wasn't good for keyboards either), but apparently, Rachel's idea for 'branching out' had actually been Finn's idea (Kurt would personally refer to it as a 'mistake,' but he also wouldn't kiss Rachel to save his life, so to each his own).<p>

'Branching out' in Rachilian was apparently code for trying to have as much of the 'human experience' as possible in the next few weeks before Regionals. The exact reason why she had made this decision was being concealed from Kurt, and he wasn't going to dig. He loved the New Directions too much to spy on them, no matter how crazy they were or how easy it would be.

Chris was in the shower, the constant beat of the water helping Kurt think even though he was just sitting on his bed.

Knock, knock, knock. "Open."  
>Knock, knock, knock. "Door."<br>Knock, knock, knock. "Kurt."

Kurt rolled his eyes at his best friend and opened the door. "It's supposed to be uniform."

"I'm not quite as crazy as Sheldon," Blaine said with his characteristic big grin as he walked into Kurt's dorm. "Yet." Blaine collapsed on Kurt's bed with quite a bit of spring-squeaking. "And how are you on this beautiful morning?"

"What side of the bed do you get out of in the morning? Because I've never been able to find the good side," Kurt said dryly, but Blaine only smiled. Sometimes he was just in a ridiculously good mood.

"Clearly." Blaine wasn't being mean, so Kurt ignored the comment. "I haven't heard anything from or about Wes, David, or Wevid-"

"And you definitely covered every possibility."

"I'm worried David didn't actually go talk to him-"

"Seems the likely explanation."

"However, I did find out something during my inquiries that was... surprising, to say the least."

"Do tell."

"Well, I was mostly asking people how Wes was doing, because that seemed like the best way to fish for information without revealing the source of Wes' depression-"

"Naturally."

"Did you know people think I'm sleeping with Wes?" The question completely blind-sided Kurt. He wasn't sure what to expect from the Dalton population's rumor mill (every school had one, no matter how decent the students were), but it wasn't that. Apparently he hadn't been at Dalton for long enough to start predicting the populace's behavior.

"I... did not know that, no. I suppose I'm not part of the Dalton grapevine quite yet."

"Well, apparently, neither am I."

"Usually the people involved in the rumor aren't told about it," Kurt said, because he had heard about a lot of nasty rumors about himself in his life, but only from Mercedes.

"Actually, around here a lot of people are asked about the validity of rumors involving them."

"This school really is weird."

"It's the Dalton identity," Blaine said with a shrug. "If you're an outsider, if you didn't start from the first day of freshman year, it doesn't matter how long you've been here, you'll always be an outsider. I don't know exactly what they do in the beginning of freshman year to bond the graduating class, but I'm kind of scared to ask." Blaine didn't sound too bothered, but that kind of bothered Kurt. He wasn't going to mention it though. It certainly wasn't Blaine's fault. "But yeah, most people think that."

"I don't blame them." Blaine _had_ been strangely obsessed with Wevid lately.

"Are... are you asking me if I'm sleeping with Wes?" Blaine asked incredulously, as if he couldn't see the basis for the rumor.

"Are you?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? Even David asked me. No, I'm not sleeping with Wes! He's one of my best friends, I don't even think about him that way!"

"In answer to your question, to those who don't know about Wevid, you have seemed strangely obsessed with Wes lately, and to those who do, you seem obsessed with both of them!"

"If I was in love with Wes, why would I trying to get him back together with his ex-lover?" That was such a gross term.

"Maybe because you want to make him happy!" Kurt offered, and when had they both raised their voices? "And who said anything about love?"

"Yeah, who did say something about love? Because it wasn't me, Kurt!"

"Well, you asked!" That was the exact point Kurt realized they weren't talking about Wevid anymore. Maybe it had never really been about Wevid.

"I..." Suddenly, Blaine seemed to deflate. "I should go. I'll see you at breakfast." Blaine left in quite a hurry, and Kurt sat back down on his bed with a frustrated huff, having stood up during the fight. Obviously, things were not as okay as they were both pretending they were.

Crap. He hadn't even mentioned Rachel's party.

_Alright, already, the show goes on  
><em>_All night 'til the morning, we dream so long  
><em>_Anybody ever wonder when they would see the sun go  
><em>_Just remember when you come up, the show goes on_

The lyrics floated out of the shower, and Chris hadn't been kidding when he had said he sucked at singing. Kurt winced at the sounds of a cat being mangled that were coming from their bathroom. Okay, that was enough.

"Chris, I love you dearly, but I will projectile-vomit on your bed if you keep that up!"

"I thought you were gone!" Chris called back, the shower turning off. "I heard Blaine come in and then the door opened and closed again, so I assumed you had left."

"So you could hear the door, but you didn't hear the yelling?"

"Why were you yelling at Blaine?" Chris asked as he walked into the room in a towel, truly shameless, and Kurt automatically averted his eyes.

"I... that's a very good question," Kurt said with a sigh. Blaine was just trying to help two of his best friends be happy, and Kurt was yelling at him why? Because he was a little bit jilted? It was a lame excuse and he knew it.

"Everything okay?" Chris asked, sitting on Kurt's bed next to him, ignoring the fact that he was wearing a towel and dripping wet. Not that Kurt was thinking dirty thoughts or anything, but Chris was dripping on his bedspread.

"Fine."

"I don't believe that."

"Oh, just put on some clothes, I'm fine," Kurt snapped, and Chris just rolled his eyes as he stood up.

"So what did Blaine do now?"

"He didn't _do_ anything," Kurt said, and since he could sense a sassy retort from Chris, he added, "That's the problem."

"I'm gonna need a little more information than that. What, you don't think he sees you as an option? Because that's total crap. And I doubt he's sleeping with Wes." Of course Chris had heard. He hung out with everyone.

"I know he's not sleeping with Wes," Kurt replied with a sigh, crossing over to Pavarotti's cage, putting his fingers through the bars and whistling at the bird, who happily whistled in reply.

"So, the problem here is that he's not sleeping with you?"

"I will throw this bird at you."

"You know what I mean," Chris said, clearly not threatened by Kurt's words. Pav whistled angrily at him.

"Good Pavarotti," Kurt whispered to the bird, making Chris laugh.

"Are you training your warbler to be an attack bird?"

"Number one, Pav is a canary," he said, stroking Pav's head as the canary came close to the bars. "Number two, the only person I need him to attack is you."

"And maybe Blaine, which brings us back to our conversation." Chris was grinning, Kurt could tell be his tone. "Seriously, nice try though, oh Deflection King."

"Blaine's just a little bit stupid. Give him time."

"I've given him time!" Kurt snapped, and even though Chris didn't react, he felt bad when Pav hopped away from him. The canary didn't like loud noises. "This started a few months before you met me, Chris. I've given him time, and I'm sick of being his last resort." Pav hopped back over, as if he sensed Kurt was upset.

Chris then proceeded to scare the crap out of his roommate by hugging him from behind, still not wearing very much clothing. "Chris!" Kurt yelped. "You're getting me wet."

"I could say about one hundred things in reply to that, so I'm just not going to say anything." Kurt smacked him as best he could when he had to reach behind his back to do so.

"You're a pervert."

"Says the one who's wet." Kurt sighed. "Are you giving up on Blaine?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, sighing again. "I really, _really_ don't know."

"There are other guys in the world."

"But they're not Blaine."

"I'll be here for you, if you decide he's not worth it." Kurt spun around so that his roommate could give him a real hug.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>David knew that Blaine was right, that he needed to talk to Wes and explain everything before he lost his best friend and the love of his life forever. Not that Wes was gone in any way, they still roomed together and shared the Warbler council and they were being perfectly civil to one another. But the pranks were over, Wes avoided being alone with him whenever possible. They had only been back in the same dorm for a few days, and Wes had only slept the night there once. David had no idea where he was sleeping. Maybe in Blaine's room, or Charlie's.<p>

Even when he was in the room, Wes was silent, always working on homework or listening to music and refusing the acknowledge David's existence. He spent most of his time in the library though, isolating himself in the reference section devoted to birds, a topic Dalton students very rarely needed to research. Maybe he was sleeping there. It was definitely something he would do.

David had no idea how to confront him. Yes, Wes had been his best friend for a long time, but he was also angrier than David had ever seen him. He was scared and alone and David was the reason for all of those things. Plus, for a variety of reasons, it was a conversation they would have to have alone, and David had absolutely no way of getting Wes alone. He certainly didn't want to barge into Wes' haven in the library and demand that Wes come with him. That wouldn't end well for anyone in the immediate vicinity.

He had only one option. And he really didn't like it.

* * *

><p>David knocked hesitantly on the door of the only person who could help him get Wes alone, the mastermind of Dalton Academy and the craziest person he had ever met. Said lunatic was willing to do anything to get what he wanted, even lock two people in a closet together (Kurt and Blaine had an interesting story about that). All David could hope was that Charlie would be on his side.<p>

"Who is it?" Charlie called out in what was probably supposed to be a feminine voice. He was weird sometimes.

"David."

"Fuck off." At least that was in Charlie's normal tone. David knew that Charlie knew. If Blaine knew, Charlie knew, and Charlie seemed to know everything anyway.

"Come on, Charlie."

"We all know you're the bad guy here."

"Five minutes," David said patiently. "Give me five minutes to convince you that I'm not the bad guy."

"Fine." Charlie paused, but the door didn't open. "But you have to say it through the door."

What David said following the comment wasn't exactly polite, but he should have known that Charlie's help was going to have conditions. Charlie never did anything out of the goodness of his heart.

"If you really love Wes and you really want to be with him, you should be able to admit that to an empty hallway. And if anyone walks by, it's not the worst thing in the world, is it?" Charlie's arguments were shockingly logical. David hated him for it.

"Unless it gets back to Wes before I get the chance to talk to him. That could be disastrous," David pointed out, and Charlie sighed.

"30 second elevator pitch then. No one will walk by in that time. If I don't take your pitch, you will have to leave." Charlie didn't say exactly what he would do if David _didn't_ leave after his pitch, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what the crazy boy was capable of.

"Wes and I have never had a healthy relationship, and I was afraid that if things became serious just for us to find out that we're not really compatible, it would irrevocably damage our friendship." A little more than thirty seconds, but worth it.

"And this hasn't?" Charlie asked as he opened his door.

"It wasn't my best plan," David admitted. Wes was going to be hurt no matter what, but hopefully if they took the chance and it didn't work out, Wes wouldn't hate him forever.

"What do you need from me? I'm _not_ killing Alison, I actually like her."

"I... I hadn't thought about Alison yet," David admitted. He had barely remembered that Wes had a girlfriend. It was difficult to consider them in the equation know when they never had before.

"Well, that's something to consider. That gives Wes an excuse not to be with you that's pretty solid. She really seems to love him." Charlie didn't sound impressed with his own thought process. Then David realized Charlie wasn't talking to him. He was scheming. "Of course, _he_ doesn't really love _her_. He hasn't slept with her, though he's gone out of his way to make it look like he has." That was news to David, but he didn't interrupt Charlie's thought process. "Of course, that may not be the issue at hand." Charlie looked at David expectantly.

"I need to talk to Wes alone, but he's avoiding me." Charlie laughed.

"You're really asking _me_ to help you get someone alone? That's child's play," he said with a grin. "Meet me and Wes in the Warbler's practice room at..." Charlie looked up at the clock. "4. And leave the secret staircase unlocked." David had a pretty clear idea of what Charlie was going to do, he was just hoping it worked.

"What should I do about Alison?" David asked Charlie, who rolled his eyes.

"If all goes well, Wes will take care of breaking up with Alison. If all goes slightly _less _well, we'll discuss more details later. Deal?" Charlie asked, holding up a hand to shake.

"What am I paying?" David asked, looking at Charlie's hand suspiciously.

"You're letting me meddle in your personal life. That's pretty much enough." And on that, they shook.

* * *

><p>Wes was hiding in the library, which admittedly wasn't the most mature thing to do, considering he was trying so hard to be the responsible one in his situation with David, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't sit in their shared dorm with David for hours in silence, feeling like he was breaking in half every time he looked his former best friend and the love of his life in the eyes. He couldn't do it.<p>

He was actually succeeding in getting quite a bit of work done, despite how distracted he was. Wes was still working on getting over David, and he thought he had figured out one of the first steps, though it wouldn't be an easy one. He had always tied his relationship with David with the idea of coming out, but he could come out without David. He could admit to everyone that he was bisexual without his idiotic best friend by his side, couldn't he? And when he did, that would put one giant, brick wall between how his future was going and his idealistic version of the future, the one he had been building since he first kissed David in the woods and the one that _should_ have been vaporized when David said that they couldn't be together. However, it was a damn stubborn image.

Wes had decided that the first step would be to tell Alison, and if she didn't like it, it was the perfect excuse to break up with her. To be entirely honest, he was looking for one. She reminded him of David, like everything else from his past did, and she had been the root cause of one of their arguments. Even though it wasn't her fault, he could never forgive her for that, and he could never fall in love with her. It was time to let her go. Whether that be before or after he came out was all dependent on her reaction, and what the sequence could mean. If he broke up with her directly _before_ he came out, that could mean he found someone who made him _want_ to come out. While that was technically true, it still wasn't the impression he wanted to leave. If he broke up with her directly _after_ he came out, he would cast a negative light on her, because a lot of people would assume she wasn't okay with it if he didn't include that with his official announcement. And if he did, people would probably still assume he had met a guy. Maybe he should wait a bit between those two announcements.

He was surprised when someone sat down directly across from him. Most people were too afraid of him when he was in a temper to be anywhere near him (Blaine seemed to be the sole exception to that rule, which was equally sweet and annoying). When he looked up, he wasn't exactly surprised to see Charlie. If anyone was crazy enough to bother him when he was angry, it was the honorary Warbler.

"I have a proposal for you," Charlie said with a grin. Wes just raised an eyebrow in reply. "It's about the Warblers. I have an idea for Regionals that may have involved some espionage that I can't fully disclose to you without you being in violation of show choir rules."

"I have to tell you I disapprove of such behavior," Wes said, and he really meant it, but he was kind of curious about what Charlie had to say. He was a master of crazy schemes, after all.

"Sure you do," Charlie said, still grinning. "As you are aware, the theme is anthems, and I happen to know exactly how both Aural Intensity and the New Directions plan to use this theme." That sounded too good to be true.

"Tell me," Wes demanded. Knowing whatever Charlie knew certainly couldn't hurt.

"Wes, this is a public place. How stupid are you? Rehearsal room, five minutes." Charlie dashed off, presumably to do whatever it was he did in his spare time now that he had a boyfriend, and Wes was too curious and too proud not to meet him in the practice room.

When he got to the room set aside for Warblers' rehearsals, it was completely dark, which was probably a part of whatever crazy presentation Charlie had set up. It was completely what Wes suspected of him at this point.

"Are you ready," Charlie's voice boomed out from the darkness, "for the shock of a lifetime?"

"For Pete's sake, Charlie, are you going to tell me the information or not?" Wes demanded.

"Actually," a voice he had not been expecting to hear emerged from the darkness, followed by the click of a lock, "I'm the one who has something to tell you." The lights flicked on. He was _shocked_ to speechlessness, his mouth dropping open, when he looked up and discovered that the person speaking was David, and his eyes were a little puffy. Like he had been crying, though there were no tears on his face or anything. A while ago then, perhaps.

"David," he said once he had regained most of his composure, his voice shaking a little bit despite his attempts to make it sound cold.

"Wes, I think we need to talk." David's voice was serious and earnest and a little bit nervous, but Wes couldn't get his own hopes up.

"You made your decision, David," Wes said, and he managed the cold tone he had been looking for with that one. "All the talking is done."

"You really don't have a choice in the matter," Charlie said coolly from over by the doors. "You're both locked in here."

"So are you," Wes snapped in reply, but Charlie grinned that manipulative grin of his.

"Like I would ever be so foolhardy." Wes immediately realized what he was talking about, but it was too late. Charlie practically ran across the room, slid the bookshelf away, and dove into the secret staircase, closing the door behind him.

"That bastard," Wes muttered under his breath, certain Charlie was long gone and they wouldn't be able to get into the secret staircase. He walked over and rattled the doors. Locked as well, and they locked from the outside. Charlie really was insane.

"Wes, I know you're angry," David began, but Wes didn't really want to have that conversation.

"Angry doesn't even begin to cover it," Wes snapped. David took a few steps closer, regardless of how furious Wes was, and took his hand, the most simple, most touching gesture he could make. Wes swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked, letting the cold tone of his voice soften.

"I'm sorry," David said, and his voice sounded choked. "For the way I've treated you," he clarified. "Not just lately, though I've been an awful friend, but for a long time. For years. Since you kissed me on that hill, barely hidden from the field hockey team by trees."

"David, what are you talking about?" Wes asked, because yes, he understood what David was saying, he just couldn't understand why David was saying it.

"Our relationship. We've never had a healthy relationship, Wes, and I've pushed you away for years because I'm scared we never can." Wes' mouth must have been gaping on the outside, because his brain was definitely gaping. "We've never been together because we want to be together," David continued, but to Wes, who was probably going through some sort of shock, it sounded like he was talking underwater. "We've always been together because of loneliness or sadness or anger or fear, and my feelings for you are so intermixed with out past that I can't make them out. But I do like you," David said, and the words felt like a shock going through Wes' body, "and want to be with you, in any way you'll have me, and... maybe even love you." David was looking at him for some sort of reaction, but it felt like he was frozen. He couldn't do anything, couldn't speak, couldn't smile. "Wesy, I-"

That was it. The magic word that broke the spell. The cute nickname David had been using since they were old enough to talk. Wes grabbed his best friend, the love of his life, maybe even his boyfriend, by the collar and kissed him until his brain told him he was about to pass out from oxygen depravation, and when he opened his eyes as he pulled away, the edges of his vision were fading out.

David seemed as shell-shocked at Wes' reaction as Wes had been when David had almost said 'I love you.' He wasn't there yet, but it was miles ahead of where he had been in the past, and it was more than enough. For a moment, Wes was afraid he had been a complete idiot and David was about to walk out of his life forever. Then David leaned forward a little bit, kissing Wes softly for just a second before pulling away with a smile. "Maybe we should try this again."

"Agreed," Wes whispered, feeling almost giddy, and light in a way he hadn't felt for months. He and David were _together_, he hoped, for the first time ever, together because they wanted to be and maybe even out in the open. "So, the question is, how exactly do you let Charlie know that we've made up?"

David froze, and then a sheepish smile crossed his face, one that was so familiar it made Wes roll his eyes. "We didn't get that far in the planning."

"I love you, you irresponsible idiot," Wes said, kissing his best friend again.

* * *

><p>About two hours later, finally released from the rehearsal room, they were all snuggled up on their bed, their room set up the way they used to have it before the nightmare that had happened around Christmas. Once they had started rooming together, they had figured out that trying to snuggle in a twin bed wasn't comfortable, so they had devised the perfect plan. They pushed both beds together on one side of the room, opposite the door to the bathroom. The bed was pushed against the wall, which meant it was only accessible from one side, but it was worth it, because then they had enough room for everything else in the room. They had sold one of the bedside tables to an irresponsible freshman (which had led to an interesting argument when they broke up), but the arrangement worked perfectly while they were together. Plus, with a double-size mattress pad covering the two beds under double-size sheets, the only thing that gave it away was the gap between the headboards, and that had never bothered them.<p>

"You realize we still have to talk, right?" Wes asked, curled up on his best friend's chest.

"May I have a general overview of the topics so I know in general what to prepare for?"

"Isn't that what you asked your world history teacher about the essays on your final sophomore year?" Wes asked, his observation startling a laugh out of both of them.

"Almost verbatim, but the question still stands."

"What are we?" David looked over and down at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not asking you to define yourself, David, because if you don't care then neither do I. I just want you to define _us_."

"So, I'm guessing that's the easy essay?" David asked, making Wes chuckle. "We're best friends. Lovers. Possibly soul mates. Eventually husbands." Wes' breath caught in his chest and his eyes started to water. "The love of each others' lives. But I think for right now, 'boyfriends' works. Don't you agree?" David looked over at him again with a soft smile.

"I love you so much," Wes whispered, leaning up to kiss his boyfriend and absolutely reveling in the fact that he could finally call David his boyfriend.

"I..." David paused, and Wes knew he was thinking it over.

"Don't say it if you're not sure. Give it time." Wes smiled briefly at the memory of another day, one when he had been lonely and depressed and miserable that had in reality only been a few days ago, but felt like a lifetime ago. "We really do have all the time in the world." David made a little inquisitive noise, but Wes shook his head. "Don't say it. I can wait. _This_," he gestured between the two of them, "is enough. It will always been enough. More than enough."

"You're amazing," David settled on, kissing Wes on the top of the head. "Do I have any more essay questions?" Wes chuckled.

"Why did you lie to me for so long?" David sighed, kissing the top of Wes' head again.

"Can I think on the articulation of that one?" he asked, and Wes nodded.

"We have time." They really did. "What brought this on?"

"I had a little conversation with Blaine. He slapped some sense into me. Quite literally."

"I'm going to send him a fruit basket," Wes said decisively. "Probably made of Red Vines." David smiled, kissing his boyfriend on the nose and then on the lips. "When was this?"

"Tuesday."

"_You waited a whole forty-eight hours to come and talk to me_?" Wes demanded.

"To be fair, I had to figure out what I was going to say."

"Forty-eight hours? Really, David?"

"You knew I was an idiot getting into this," David pointed out, and Wes couldn't help but laugh. "Besides, like you said, we have all the time in the world."

"Sure, it's easy to say that _now_." Wes was getting huffy, and it was kind of nice that David could just kiss him to call him down now, no matter where they were.

"Can I ask _you_ a question?"

"But I don't have a pen!" Wes objected, and they both cracked up, Wes laughing even harder when David calmed down enough to reach over to their bedside table and grab one, placing it between them.

"Here," he said, before he lost control of his laughter again.

"We're giddy, aren't we?" Wes asked, once they had clamed down enough that looking at each other wasn't setting them off into fits of laughter and giggles.

"Absolutely." David looked down at him with all the warmth in the world in his eyes. "It's nice."

"Yeah." Wes kissed David's shoulder. "Ask away. I'm now prepared for my essay."

"Did you know half the school thinks you're sleeping with Blaine?" Wes laughed. He _had _known that.

"Yes, of course I did. I started that rumor." David scoffed and rolled his eyes, Wes laughing some more. It was too easy to get him riled up about that kind of stuff.

"I hate you."

"I love you too. And yes, I did know that. But on the bright side, the other half of the school will soon _know_ I'm sleeping with you. So, either way, I'm getting laid." David cracked up laughing.

"I can't believe I was so stupid," David whispered once he had stopped laughing, the mood in the room getting serious for just a moment. David gave Wes a soft kiss.

"Me neither," Wes whispered in reply once David had pulled away, making his _boyfriend_ roll his eyes. "Round two?"

* * *

><p>On the morning of the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza, Kurt had received two invites (using the term loosely, of course), but had yet to invite Blaine. Possibly because they were semi-fighting, and possibly because he was so obsessed with Wevid that Kurt hadn't seen him since the previous morning. Either way, Kurt had to invite him. It was at the party, surrounded by people he loved that would support him as well as Chris did, that he would make up his mind about whether or not he was giving up on Blaine. Which meant, of course, that he had to get Blaine to the party.<p>

Kurt wasn't entirely surprised by the knock on his door Friday morning before school, because Blaine usually came in the mornings so they could head to breakfast together. "Hey," Blaine said brightly when Kurt answered the door, then his mood shifted downward, just a little bit. "I want to apologize for what happened yesterday. You're right, I've been kind of crazy lately, and I may have been a little obsessed with trying to help Wes and David."

"Which is a totally reasonable goal for someone to have towards their best friend and shouldn't be rewarded by bitter anger and suspicions of romantic interest." Which was the closest Blaine was going to get to an apology. "And as an olive branch, I have an invite for you."

"Oh, do tell."

"Rachel's holding a party for the New Directions, and I managed to secure us two invitations. Do you want to come?" Blaine grinned.

"I would love to. I never turn down spending time with those crazy bastards you call a Glee club." Blaine wasn't being mean. Blaine was never mean.

"Great. I'll RSVP for us." Well, he would text Finn. That counted.

"When is this?" Blaine asked, and that was probably something Kurt should have included in the invitation.

"Tonight, starting at 6."

"Awesome. So we'll leave after Warblers' practice?" Which would make them a little bit late, but whatever.

"Yep."

There was another knock on the door, and Kurt wasn't expecting that one at all. When he opened the door, Wes and David were on the other side, beaming, both in their pajamas and looking a little worse for wear. David's shirt was wet in spots, sticking to his stomach, and both of their clothes looked rumpled, as did Wes' hair.

Wes and David barged in, closing the door behind them, which was unusual for anyone but _especially_ weird for Wes. Speaking of weird for Wes, he launched himself into Blaine's arms, almost knocking the tenor over. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you,_ thank you_."

"You're welcome?" Blaine asked in confusion.

"No, Wes isn't trying to perpetuate that rumor about you two sleeping together," David said, and though he sounded a little jealous, he was obviously too happy to be mad.

"Are you two..." Kurt gestured between them, because if they had gotten together, that would explain the euphoria present on both of their faces (their jaws had to be hurting from smiling), Wes' gratitude towards Blaine (for talking to David), and their rumpled appearances (not that Kurt wanted to think too hard on that one.

"Yeah," David said with a smile, tugging Wes away from Blaine and wrapping an arm around his waist. "We're together." Wes beamed up at him, and David kissed him on the nose. "For real this time. No lies, no secrecy, no cheating, no stress relief. Just the two of us." Wes leaned up and kissed David for a _pinch_ too long for having company.

"What about Alison?" Blaine asked, a frown creasing his brow. He was obviously concerned about the girl's feelings. Wes' smile dimmed a little bit.

"I'm going to see her at Crawford Country Day on Saturday. I already called her and told her why I needed to talk to her. She's mad, but I'm going to tell her the whole story, and hopefully she'll be happy for us." The topic seemed to make Wes less upbeat, and David gave him a kiss on the head, sensing his boyfriend's unhappiness.

"Good luck with that," Blaine said with a grim smile, and Wes nodded.

"I know she'll hate me, I just want her to know that it's not about her, you know?" Blaine nodded. "We should probably go get ready for the day, but we just wanted you two to know. And thank you, Blaine."

"My pleasure." Blaine mouthed something that Kurt couldn't quite see that made Wes laugh and David frown. "Oh, come on, David. Don't be such an ass. Just because Wes is your boyfriend now, it doesn't mean you can't appreciate a joke."

"Relax, babe," Wes said when David was still frowning. "I'm all yours." He leaned up again and kissed David softly... which quickly became inappropriate.

"I love you both," Blaine said after an awkward minute or two, "but I'm pretty sure Kurt doesn't want round three or four to happen in his dorm. Off you two go."

"Thank you, Blaine," Wes said once he detached himself from David's lips, kissing his friend on the cheek. David nodded to him, held up five fingers (making Blaine whistle), and the two of them departed.

"I should feel victorious, but I'm just happy for them," Blaine said with a smile.

"You're a good guy, Blaine," Kurt said, and he knew it was true in most cases.

* * *

><p>By Warblers' rehearsal, it appeared that euphoric Wes had been replaced by the standard: tyrannical Wes. He had been snapping at Warblers all day, checking up on grade files (something he was supposed to do this close to the end of the trimester), and generally being a nuisance. He had Lucy in hand at the beginning of the rehearsal, and he impatiently banged the gavel until everyone was seated.<p>

"Today we will begin thinking about numbers for Regionals. Before we reach the official portion of the meeting, which will be started by David reading the minutes, I have an announcement."

The atmosphere in the practice room had changed. Wes and David were once again sitting next to each other, Wes in the center and David as his right hand man. When Wes said David's name, his tone remained the same, instead of switching to icy cold as if had before, and he was actually allowing David to do his official job. The whole Warblers were murmuring, then David picked up Wes' gavel to silence them. The murmurs got louder, instead of quieter, when Wes allowed it.

"I will make this announcement simple and to the point. It is something I have wanted to tell everyone for a long time, and I finally have the courage to do it." Wes' build-up was very suggestive as to what he was going to say, and the Warblers were silent. "I'm bisexual," Wes said decisively, and there were a few gasps.

"So am I," David said, standing up, and then _everyone_ gasped. Even those who had already known that. "Well, technically. It doesn't matter," David continued to speak despite the expression of shock and a little bit of fear on his not-for-long-secret boyfriend's face. "I'm in love with the most amazing man on the planet, and I know he loves me too." David reached for Wes' hand, and then everyone's mouths were gaping. It must have looked like a cartoon still from where David and Wes were standing. "His relationship with Alison is officially over, because we've been in love since eighth grade, and I'm finally brave enough to admit it." David looked over at his boyfriend, who still looked shell-shocked. "I love you, Wesy."

There was dead silence until Wes finally scraped together enough brain cells to squeak out, "I love you too, Dave," and then they were kissing and everyone was cheering. It was awesome.

"I think that's enough practice for today," Thad said with a smile, reaching for Wes' gavel only to have his hand slapped away.

Wes detached his mouth from David's long enough to say, "Don't touch my gavel," and then they were kissing again, and everyone else left the room.

No one wanted to speculate too much on what happened next.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay! Wevid is happy! Klaine is a little bit on the rocks, but don't you worry too much about Kurt's decision. I think you all know what it will be.**

**Song used: **'_The Show Goes On_' by Lupe Fiasco

**Reviews are Love.**


	32. Blaine It on the Alcohol

The ride to Lima wasn't as awkward as Kurt had anticipated. Blaine was cracking jokes and singing along to the music and generally acting as though their fight the other day hadn't happened at all. Kurt resolved to do the same for the night, because Blaine had been right. He _had_ created the awkwardness between them, and if it was anyone's job to fix it, it was his. He still wasn't sure how to feel about Blaine, though.

"Would you rather..." Blaine began because they had been playing the game for about fifteen minutes, "go back in time to meet your ancestors or go into the future to meet your great-grandchildren?"

"Future, definitely," Kurt said as he passed possibly the slowest person on the highway. They might have actually been going the speed limit. "I know enough about the past to know I _never _want to go there."

"Fair enough," Blaine said. "I think I would like to meet my great-grandchildren too. Just to make sure I actually have some," he added with a laugh. "Okay, would you rather... have a really amazing relationship with terrible sex or a really awful relationship with amazing sex?"

"Blaine!"

"What?" he asked with a chuckle. "It's a legitimate question.

"Amazing relationship," Kurt decided.

"I can tell you're still a virgin because you made the decent choice. I would just get out of either." Blaine was tapping his fingers along to the beat against the passenger door. "God, your car is _so_ comfortable."

"That's why we always drive the two hours in this," Kurt said. "Would you rather... go on your dream vacation for a week, or be able to spend five days with anyone, _but_ you have to stay in your hometown?"

"Hometown, _easy_," Blaine replied. "I don't hate Westerville that much."

"Who would you spend the five days with?" Kurt asked, too curious, but BLaine just shrugged.

"I don't know. I haven't decided yet. How about you?"

"Dream vacation. I would pay a million dollars I don't have to get out of Lima."

Blaine chuckled. "And your dream vacation would be New York City?"

"Of course."

"All right, my turn."

"We're not doing very good with the taking turns thing."

"Shut up. Would you rather... be fluent in all languages or a master of every musical instrument?"

"Are you looking these questions up on your phone?" Kurt asked.

"Just answer."

"Master of every musical instrument. I already know enough languages."

"Touché. Would you rather no one show up to your wedding or your funeral?" Blaine asked, and he was _blatantly_ reading off of his phone at this point.

"Wedding, I'm more for privacy anyway."

"Same," Blaine agreed. "Besides, some people choose to just... get married at a courthouse or in some cheap chapel being married by Elvis, and then they celebrate with friends later. It's actually not that big a deal."

"Unless you threw a big wedding, and no one showed up."

"That would suck," Blaine agreed, "but I would never throw a big wedding."

"Me neither." Kurt tried to ignore the mental images of _their_ small wedding. "Would you rather... win the lottery or live twice as long?"

"Provided I was aging half as fast, live twice as long. If Twilight has taught us anything, it's that people that are alive and attractive for a long time eventually become very rich." Kurt laughed at that, almost veering into the wrong lane when he briefly looked away from the road. "Jesus, careful you hooligan."

"I agree with you," Kurt said. "You've been taking double turns," he objected when Blaine went to ask him another question. "It's my turn again. Would you rather... be the smartest person alive or the hottest person alive?"

"Smartest," Blaine said with a little smirk. "I'm already the hottest person alive."

Kurt couldn't even get out the words, 'very humble,' which was going to be his reaction, before Blaine started laughing. "No, I'm just kidding. But still. Smartest. _You_ should agree, because you win the title of second hottest."

"Oh, shut up." Kurt tried to prevent the blood from rushing to his face, but it was no use.

"Aw, you're _blushing_."

"Shut up, Blaine."

"Okay, since you're already embarrassed, I might as well ask you this one. Would you rather... lose your virginity to another virgin, or a slut who knows what he's doing?" Kurt blushed redder, he was sure of it. "Come on, Hummel, you have to answer."

"I... have no idea."

"Plus, you have no idea how much of a slut they're talking about. There's a difference between like... forty guys or two hundred," Blaine said contemplatively, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "Okay. Would you rather... always be overdressed or always be underdressed?"

"Overdressed," Kurt answered immediately. "You're going to draw attention either way, it might as well be that people think you're too classy for your chosen activity."

"Yeah, _that's_ what they'll be thinking," Blaine said with a cute little snort. "I would rather be underdressed. Having been to enough stupid rich-people parties in my life, I would rather wear something comfortable then small instruments of torture on my feet." Kurt laughed at that. Blaine did have a point about dress shoes. "Would you rather... be able to fly or be able to read minds?"

"Fly," Kurt said. "It always looked like fun to me in comic books."

"It is _so_ cool that you like comic books," Blaine said with a chuckle. "I would rather be able to read minds though, because then I would be able to read _your_ mind and figure out how to fly, and then I would win all around." To celebrate his victory, Blaine sang the chorus of D.J. Khaled's _All I Do is Win_, and Kurt almost peed his pants laughing.

"Okay, that was clever. Would you rather..." Crap, he was having trouble coming up with good ones, "be half your height or double your weight?" That was a good one for Blaine the Hobbit.

"Well, on one hand, if I was half my height, I would qualify as a dwarf, and that could be fun. On the other, I'm teased for being short enough... I think I would rather double my weight. I could burn that off, but I could never make myself grow."

"Touché, but I would rather be half my height. I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror long enough to loose all that weight."

"You don't weight much to begin with."

"Do to."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Do not. You are never going to win this argument, I have a brother, you know."

"Do to. So do I."

"Do not. Recently acquired doesn't count," Blaine argued, propping his feet up on the dashboard. Kurt was tempted to scold him, but Blaine wasn't wearing dirty shoes like Finn did, so it really wasn't worth it. "Would you rather... have to sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl or do a nude scene in a Blockbuster movie?"

"That's really not a good one for me," Kurt argued, "considering I would _pay_ to sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl." He would finally get some respect for his talent.

"True. Would you rather... have photographic memory or be able to forget anything you want?"

"Be able to forget anything I want," Kurt answered immediately.

"Insensitive?"

"Not too bad. You?"

"Same," Blaine said with a sigh. "Would you rather... be proposed to in private or in front of people?"

"Who said I'm being proposed _to_?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrow, but not looking over at Blaine. His gesture was included in his tone.

"Just answer the q

* * *

><p>uestion."<p>

"In private. I believe we discussed this."

"Hm..." Blaine considered. "I don't know. I've always thought that it would be nice for a guy to have enough balls to do it in front of people. Not like... a huge crowd, like a banner at the Superbowl or something, but friends and family..." Blaine sounded like he was day-dreaming.

"Would you rather..." Kurt started to restart the conversation, "give up Harry Potter or Katy Perry?"

"Oh, that's just _cruel_."

* * *

><p><em>Now I know how to get down on the floor<br>__Experience the moves you can't ignore  
><em>_But something 'bout this beat that's got me hooked  
><em>_Come over here and take a closer look  
><em>'_Cause I can't get enough, I can't get enough  
><em>_I can't say on the ground_

* * *

><p>"Welcome," Rachel said with a brilliant smile as she opened the basement door, wearing some sort of hideously green contraption that Kurt wasn't going to bother to comment on. After all, he was an invited guest. Sort of. "Kurt. Blaine," she said as she saw them standing in front of the person she <em>really<em> wanted to see, Finn, her smile dimming slightly. "I wasn't expecting you guys." Kurt led the way in, never mind her attitude, making sure not to make eye contact with the creepy portrait of her that hung opposite the door.

"Kurt's been blackmailing me ever since he saw my browser history." Blaine, behind Kurt, let out a little snort when he heard that. Definitely not something Finn should tell his ex-girlfriend. "He kind of insisted on coming." It didn't exactly look like the most exciting party as they walked down the stars. Tina, Mike, and Puck were all standing around in one corner, Brittany and Artie on the opposite side of the room. The only ones who appeared to be having fun were Sam and Santana, who were making out on the couch.

"I'm totally off the clock right now, Rachel," Blaine assured her . "I'm not a Warbler, I'm just Blaine. I'm not even wearing my uniform." That was an improvement, but he was still wearing a _ridiculous _amount of gel.

"So," Kurt started awkwardly, sensing how dead the party was. "This is your dads' Oscar Room." The room was nice, beautiful and wide, with a bar in one corner (where Puck, Mike, and Tina were), and the other with a nice sitting area (chairs and couches). There were a bunch of wine coolers on the bar and Kurt had the sinking feeling that this night wasn't going to end well. The last story that started with wine coolers ended with teen pregnancy.

Still, how had two men with such taste raised a daughter to wear bobby socks?

"Yes," Rachel answered in a sigh that sounded enthused. "They transformed our ordinary basement for our famous annual Oscar parties." She was taking their coats as she spoke, but she wasn't hanging them up somewhere, just draping them over a few chairs.

"Is that a stage?" Blaine asked, almost tripping over his tongue in excitement, pointing to the area covered in throw pillows where Quinn, Mercedes, and Lauren were sitting, looking equally as unenthused as the rest of the room. There was a solitary pink microphone in the middle. Kurt chuckled to himself. If Blaine was in love with anything, it was a stage. The good news was that said love was very much requited.

"I like to give impromptu performances for our neighbors sometimes." Yeah, that sounded like Rachel. Her poor neighbors probably got enough of her voice while she was practicing in her room. It wasn't like she was quiet. "Hey, girlfriend, having fun?" Rachel asked, practically pounding on Quinn as she walked over.

"Yeah. Awesome party." Quinn was trying to be nice, Kurt could tell, but she couldn't quite make her voice sound convincing. It probably wasn't very fun for her at all, considering the last time she drank she got pregnant, and her ex-boyfriend was making out with another girl on the couch. Plus, things between her and Finn were... complicated, or so he heard.

"Uh, okay. Let's, uh... Let's go over the rules." Kurt had been afraid to ask what the wire chair covered with little pink slips and topped by a pink sign proclaiming 'Drink Tickets Here' in gold letters was about, but he had a feeling he was about to get his answer... and it was going to be strange. "Everybody gets _two_ drink tickets to keep things from getting out of _hand_." That explained why no one was having any fun. "We're serving _wine coolers_ today. That is our specialty drink. That actually... all that we have." Blaine gave Rachel a smile as he walked by holding his tickets, and Kurt just declined to say anything. Rachel didn't really know what 'branching out' meant, did she?

"Brittany!" she yelled out at the girl sitting on the washer or dryer. "Remember the rules! No sitting on anything!"

"Oh, boy," Blaine muttered under his breath to Kurt as they walked over towards the bar.

"Okay. Okay, everybody. Cheers!"

"Great party, Rachel," Kurt could overhear Artie saying as he and Blaine took seats by the bar, and he, Tina, Mike, and Brittany seemed to be ganging up on her about something.

"Does this count as sitting on something?" Blaine asked.

"I think it's safe. Sam and Santana are on the couch." Blaine looked over and made a face.

"And doing a pretty effective job of making everyone else _not_ want to sit on the couch," he muttered, putting a pink drink ticket on the counter and grabbing a wine cooler. "Might as well. Judging by my first impression, a Rachel party-"

"The Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza," Kurt corrected.

"Whatever. The point is, I will _not_ do this sober."

"You can have mine," Kurt said, sliding the two tickets over to Blaine. "I'm not drinking. The last time I did I puked on the guidance counselor's fairly cute shoes."

"You were drinking at _school_?" Blaine asked, clearly shocked.

"I didn't know it was alcohol." Blaine chuckled.

"Of course you didn't." Kurt was about to object, but Blaine just shook his head. "Poor Kurt. So naive."

"Shut up." Artie, Mike, Brittany, and Tina were grabbing their coats, and Puck and FInn appeared to be talking to Rachel. "I wonder what's going on over there."

"I don't think I want to know," Blaine said, opening his wine cooler and then downing about a fourth of it, then wiping off his mouth. "Much better." Kurt was kind of surprised by Blaine's cavalier attitude towards alcohol (the Dalton boys were so pure about their parties), but Blaine didn't seem the least bothered by the idea.

"Let's party!" Rachel yelled out suddenly, and she ran over towards the washer-dryer, turning on music. In the meantime, Puck had taken something metallic out of his pocket and was at work behind the bar.

Finn was digging around in the closet, and it was clear what he was looking for when he pulled out a disco ball and went to work hanging it from the ceiling.

"Breaking into the liquor cabinet?" Blaine asked, taking another huge gulp of his wine cooler and peering over the bar.

"Yep," Puck replied shortly.

Blaine grinned. "This party is about to get a lot more interesting."

* * *

><p><em>Poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard<br>__When we do drink, we do it right, gettin' slizzard  
><em>_Sippin' sizzurp in my ride, like 3-6  
><em>_Now I'm feelin' so fly, like a G6  
><em>_Like a G6, Like a G6  
><em>_Now I'm feelin' so fly like a G6_

* * *

><p>Blaine had downed his two allotted wine coolers, and Rachel had run upstairs to grab a Kool-Aid mix. Soon there was a bowl of ridiculously-spiked punch courtesy of Puck (it had taken him less than a minute to get the liquor cabinet open), and Blaine also had about two cups of that. The point was: he was buzzed at the very least, and that wasn't doing much for Kurt's decision making.<p>

"Whew!" he yelled out as he slammed down a shot Brittany offered him. "This is fun. Isn't this fun?" he asked wrapping his arms around Kurt's neck in what was half a hug and half choking him. "Aren't you drinking?"

"I told you, the last time-"

"Let's go dance!" he yelled out suddenly, grabbing Kurt by the arm and steering him towards where the dancing was already underway. Mike and Tina were pulling some moves that were _way_ too dangerous for people as sloshed as them to be performing.

"Wait, wai, wait, look!" Blaine said, already slurring a little. "Rachel's having her first drink." Blaine pulled Kurt up on the stage, so they could stand around her with FInn, Lauren, Puck, and Sam as she drank a wine cooler. "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" he was chanting in Kurt's ear, and his breath was already horrendous.

Rachel finished it in a few gulps, burped, giggled, and grabbed the microphone from the stand. "It tastes like pink!" she said, quietly at first, then she yelled, "it tastes like _pink_!" and everyone cheered, including Blaine. "_Pink_!" she was yelling as Brittany fell backwards on the stage laughing.

Apparently, none of the New Directions could hold their alcohol, because everyone got sloppy pretty fast. Rachel was drunk by the time she finished her first wine cooler, but she continued on with the punch that Blaine seemed to enjoy.

There was a drinking game of some sort on one of the elevated tables. When someone got a quarter in the shot glass, everyone drank a shot. When someone missed, _they_ drank a shot. The point was, there was some serious drinking going on over in that corner, and Mercedes, Mike, Tina, and Quinn all seemed pretty drunk. Quinn had even put a red bandana (Kurt had no idea where she had gotten it) over her head. "Let's go!" someone yelled.

"Come on, let's grab a shot," Blaine said, dragging Kurt over to the table, regardless of the fact that he could barley stand straight already. "My turn!" he declared with a whoop, grabbing a quarter off the table and flipping it in with ease. "Whoo!" he screamed and then drank and slammed down another shot that Brittany offered him. "This is so fun!" he yelled out, pressing a sloppy kiss to Kurt's cheek that was dangerously close to his mouth and then stumbling off to dance with Rachel, who in her drunkenness had abandoned her goal of finding Finn.

* * *

><p><em>Put your lighters in the air<br>__Let 'em burn into the night  
><em>_And let everybody know  
><em>_That you're with it and you're ready to go  
><em>_So, hit the lights!_

* * *

><p>"I found <em>salt<em>!" Brittany announced in a yell, and everyone cheered.

"That's my girlfriend!" Artie cheered as Brittany whipped her shirt around some to punctuate her announcement. Then she threw it aside and hopped on the bar, leaning back and dropping some salt on her neck.

"I'm ready!" she yelled, and Puck was there with the tequila bottle and a lime that Santana quickly cut up. Santana stuck one slice in her mouth with a smirk. Puck whooped, leaning down and licking the salt off Brittany's neck, doing a shot of pure tequila and then kissing the lime out of Santana's mouth.

"My turn!" Artie objected, and he did it right off the middle of her chest. Brittany took the lime out of her mouth where Artie had put it and put it in Santana's. Santana rolled her eyes, but let Artie get the lime from her.

"Hot!" Brittany yelled.

"Whoo!" Rachel yelled from behind someone, and then she was right there by Brittany's feet as Santana put some salt in Brittany's belly button, and just grabbed the lime once she had taken the shot. Rachel was cheering, but she obviously wasn't drunk enough to do it herself.

"That looks like fun!" Blaine said with a hiccup. "Can I try?"

"Blaine, I know you're _really_ drunk-" Kurt tired to object, but someone had already given Blaine the salt, and he spread it right down her stomach in a lime.

"Give Kurt the lime!" Rachel yelled, but Kurt took his hands away as Santana tried.

"Do I have to shove this down your throat, party pooper?" Santana demanded, but Kurt shook his head. "Fine." Blaine licked the salt right off Brittany's stomach, making her giggle, took down the shot and grabbed the lime out of Santana's fingers with his tongue. "Damn," Santana said with a smirk, before pushing Brittany off the bar and getting on it herself so Sam could do shots off her.

"Whoo!" Blaine cheered as Santana did, grabbing the lime. "Kurtsie, you should try."

"Blaine, you're drunk," Kurt insisted as Blaine dragged him towards the bar where Santana had pulled down her top as much as she could (and probably stretched it) so Sam could do a shot off her breast.

"I be he'd do a shoh off you," Santana said with a smirk from around the lime (it was amazing that she could manage to smirk).

"Oh no. No, no, no, no," Kurt objected, but Blaine grinned, grabbing the salt from Sam and pulling aside his shirt collar, spilling some salt there.

"Come _on_, Kurtsie. Have some fun," he said with a giggle, going to take a step forward and almost tripping right into Kurt.

"I... Fine." He had a feeling Blaine wouldn't let this go, and he tried not to think anything inappropriate as he leaned forward and licked the salt off his friend's shoulder, almost spitting it out because... gross. Just... gross. Santana shoved a glass into his hand and he got down about half before coughing, Blaine shoving a lime into his mouth with another 'whoo!'

"My turn!" Rachel insisted, and she pushed Blaine half onto the bar, pulling up his shirt and doing a shot off his stomach while he laughed. Kurt turned around because _jeesh_, how drunk was she? Finn better watch out. If that's what she would do to _Blaine_...

"Whoo!" Rachel yelled as she finished sucking the lime.

"Wasn't that fun? That was so fun!" Blaine giggled. "You're so pretty." Kurt tried to calm his heartbeat, reminding it that Blaine was very, _very_ drunk. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom for a sec," Blaine said, and Kurt could only hope that he was going to puke and get a little more sober. It wasn't like it could make his breath worse.

* * *

><p><em>My vision's blurred (come on)<br>__My words slurred (come on)  
><em>_It's jam packed (yeah!)  
><em>_A million girls (ay)  
><em>_And I ain't trynna leave tho  
><em>_We drunk so let me be yo alcohol hero_

_Bottoms up, bottoms up (up)  
><em>_Ay, what's in ya cup?  
><em>_Gotta couple bottles, but a couple ain't enough  
><em>_Bottoms up, bottoms up (up)  
><em>_Throw ya hands up  
><em>_Tell security we 'bout to tear this club up_

* * *

><p>Blaine was ridiculously sloppy, and the only thing that had changed while he was in the bathroom was that he had washed the gel out of his hair and it was now bouncing around like he was. He seemed to be having a marvelous time dancing with absolutely no skill on the stage, while everyone was dancing either around him or underneath him or dying laughing at his antics. Though the laughter was admittedly on Kurt's part. The music was <em>overwhelmingly<em> loud, and no conversation he heard made sense. He went up to Finn, who was holding a cup with what was either water or straight vodka, when Blaine had wandered off towards the piano.

"Are you not drinking?" he asked at a yell to be heard over the music, because it didn't seem very likely that Finn was drinking vodka straight.

"No," Finn replied. "Designated driver." Well, that was something one would think Rachel Berry would never need at a party. "What about you?"

"I'm still trying to impress Blaine," he answered, because he had never told Finn about the puking on Miss Pillsbury's shoes incident, and it had strangely not gotten around the school. They were too busy talking about April Rhodes. Plus, it was true. He _was_ trying to impress Blaine, even though Blaine was on probation in his head. "Can't get too sloppy." FInn looked towards Blaine, and so did Kurt. "Clearly, he doesn't have the same concern."

"Hey!" Blaine exclaimed loudly and happily, because he was _so_ drunk, slinging an arm around Finn despite the height difference. "It is so cool that you and Kurt are _brothers, _right?" he asked, and Kurt could tell even by his tone that he wasn't in his right mind. "Like, _brothers_! Wow! You're so... _tall_," Blaine said with a shy little laugh, and _no way_. Blaine was hitting on _Finn_! God, he must be really drunk.

"You having fun, Blaine?" he asked around Finn, and Blaine leaned dangerously forward to answer.

"Yeah! This is the best party ever!" he exclaimed to cheers, and when Kurt came over to stand by his side, the tenor pulled him off the stage. "This is so awesome," he continued in Kurt's ear as they walked away, Blaine attempting to dance and walk at the same time and failing.

Kurt could vaguely hear a call of "Finny," as they left, and he was glad he was escaping a drink Rachel. That couldn't be a fun combination.

* * *

><p><em>Ooh, drop it to the floor, make me wanna say it, hey baby (you can have whatever you want)<br>__Yeah, you can shake some more, make me wanna sing it, hey baby (you can have whatever you like)  
><em>_Ooh, you got it, 'cause you make me wanna say, hey baby (give me what I want)  
><em>_Yeah, don't stop it, I want you tonight_

* * *

><p>"Isn't this awesome? I haven't felt this free since... ever! I've <em>never<em> been this free!" Blaine yelled out, and his drunken statement was met with cheers. "Look around! I'm gonna get more punch!" Everyone was calling it punch, though there wasn't anything remotely like fruit punch in its contents. "Want some?"

"Not unless you can remove the alcohol," Kurt muttered sarcastically, but Blaine heard him. He was starting to slur his words, but his hearing was still impeccable, apparently.

"Challenge accepted!" he yelled out as he ran over towards the punch bowl, almost knocking Mike and Tina over where they were dancing and clearing a path through the dance floor. Kurt actually _did_ take the chance to look around without worrying what Blaine would get himself into unsupervised.

Sam was trying to dance, but Santana was yelling at him, crying, accusing him of still being in love with Quinn, which was probably pretty true, considering Santana had convinced him into this relationship with Quinn's cheating. "You like her more than me! She's blonde and awesome and so smart. Admit it. Just admit it! No, kiss me," she said suddenly as Sam looked away, grabbing his face and pulling him onto the couch.

Quinn and Lauren had ganged up to yell at Puck, who was also trying to dance. "I can't believe what you did to my body, I used to have abs!" Quinn was complaining.

"Hey, back off," Puck said. He obviously didn't realize it wasn't smart to argue with drunk girls.

"Who told that hairstyle was cool? Geronimo?" Lauren asked.

"Chill out!" he said in return, and it was weird to see Puck wearing glasses.

Brittany was on the dryer, twerking, while Artie threw ones at her and cheered. "Makin' it rain! Whoo! That's my girlfriend. I love you, baby," he continued as Brittany twirled her shirt around. She clearly turned into a stripper while drunk, and Kurt was kind of surprised that she still had pants on. Not that her pants were very covering to begin with.

Mercedes and Tina were on the couch Santana and Sam weren't occupying, Mike standing in front of them with a cup and making them laugh. They were both _incredibly_ drunk, but they seemed genuinely happy about it.

Rachel was leaning on Finn and trying to cuddle and being clingy, the two sitting up on the stage kind of away from everyone. Finn was allowing it, but he didn't seem happy about it. Rachel suddenly stood up and put her hands out, almost spilling her punch all over the straw. Apparently, she didn't get the point of a red solo cup, because there was a pink straw sticking out of it. It was so... Rachel. "Let's play spin the bottle! Who wants to play Spin the Bottle? Spin the Bottle!" she yelled into Finn's ear before hopping off the stage.

* * *

><p><em>Keep downing drinks like there's no tomorrow<br>__There's just right now, now, now, now, now, now  
><em>_Gonna set the roof on fire  
><em>_Gonna burn this motherfucker down, down, down, down, down, down  
><em>_Hands up, when the music drops  
><em>_We both put our hands up  
><em>_Put your hands on my body  
><em>_Swear I seen you before  
><em>_I think I remember those eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes_

* * *

><p>A checkerboard was being used to keep the bottle from not spinning because of the carpet, and Kurt wasn't sure what exactly used to be <em>in<em> the bottle they were playing with, but there was definitely no shortage of empty bottles in Rachel's basement.

"I get to go first!" Rachel yelled as she changed the song and then spun the bottle. Kurt mentally thought that everyone in the room could hear her praying for it to land on Finn, but then he realized they were too drunk to pick up on it even if she had been doing it out loud. The bottle turned for a while, but it eventually stopped on Puck.

"Hell, yes!" he cheered, immediately climbing over the circle. "Give it to me, my little Jewish American Princess." It was kind of a weird thing to call her (and to say, for that matter), but Rachel leaned forward and kissed him. From where Kurt was sitting (which was alarmingly close to the kiss), it looked rough and dirty and... not terribly appealing.

"All right, that's enough!" Lauren objected after about a minute, pulling Puck away by his belt and almost pantsing him. "Someone else's turn." Kurt had a feeling Puck would pay for that later, since Lauren was already angry.

"Santana, your turn!" Rachel decided with a drunken evil cackle. It wasn't terribly... well, terrifying. Santana landed on Mike and she gave him a quick peck with a roll of her eyes. She was booed until she started glaring at everyone and then burst into tears. Sam had to calm her down. "Kurtsie!" she said, obviously picking up on what Blaine had been calling him all night.

"Number one, never call me that," he said, probably the only one sober enough for full sentences that didn't contain 'whoo' (with the exception of Finn). "Number two, I will _never_ kiss anyone in this circle sober, and I refuse to drink." Blaine probably wouldn't remember that in the morning.

"_Kurt_," Rachel complained, but Kurt ignored her. "Fine! Finny! Your turn!" she sang out happily. Finn didn't argue (probably because he didn't want to get smothered by Rachel again), and the room kind of quieted (minus the music) when he landed on Quinn.

Their kisses were long and drawn-out and tongue-filled and generally not very... friendly. Or appropriate, considering they were happening in front of quite a few people. The game of Spin the Bottle continued once Tina cleared her throat and they separated. Santana and Brittany shared a kiss to much cheering by the guys, Tina and Blaine shared a not-as-awkward-as-Kurt-would-have-hoped peck, Artie kissed Mercedes, and Sam kissed Brittany. "You know what?" Santana yelled from where she was getting more punch outside the rough circle they had formed on the floor. "A reminder. I owns that guppy mouth. Those trouty Aerosmith lips belong to me. So..." There was cheering and screaming as they kissed, but not from Quinn, who looked kind of miserable. "You know what this is not? Hey, honeys. It's not a Big Red commercial. No me gusta." Though with all the long kisses that had been happening, it might as well have been.

"Whoo!" Rachel yelled out. "Party! It's my turn! _My_ turn!" Everyone was so drunk, they hardly cared about the game. Brittany was leaning on Artie and his wheelchair, Santana was still outside the circle... Oh God. Rachel's bottle had stopped spinning, and it was pointed directly at Blaine.

"Oh!" the tenor yelled out with everyone, clapping (for some reason unknown to the sober), as Rachel pointed at him, cracking up with laugher.

"This is outstanding!" Kurt said out loud, since the drunk people didn't really care what he was saying. In reality, he was about ready to kill Rachel.

"Blaine Warbler, I'm gonna _rock_ your _world_." Oh come on! She didn't even know his last name! Rachel grabbed him in a kiss, breaking apart for a moment with a giggle because everyone was yelling.

"Deep! Deep!" That was Sam.

"More! More! More! More! More! More!" That sounded like Santana. Kurt honestly couldn't take his eyes off the travesty happening in front of him. They were _still_ kissing, deep and obviously with tongue, and Blaine's hand was coming up to cup Rachel's face.

No! No, no, no, no, no! This could _not_ be happening. Everyone was kind of staring at them in shock, Mike uttering a soft 'woah,' and they were _still_ locked at the lips. "Okay! I think we've had enough of that!" And drunkenness must be in the air, because he was clapping needlessly too. He laughed, passing it off to the one person who would remember in the morning as a joke, but they took a _long_ time to separate.

"Yeah!" Artie cheered.

"Your face..." Rachel murmured as they parted, "tastes awesome." They were both breathing kind of heavy and smiling.

"That was _crazy_!" Artie said from the other side of the circle.

"I think I just found a new duet partner!" Rachel yelled out, and everyone cheered. Blaine started laughing and leaning on Kurt's arm, and Rachel almost fell right into his lap. "But you'll need a _microphone_!" For once, not a thing was said about Blaine not matching her talent... maybe drunk Rachel was better than sober Rachel.

"Hey, why so pouty?" Blaine asked, pressing another sloppy kiss to his cheek that was really closer to the corner of his mouth before standing up.

Though he certainly liked sober Blaine better than drunk Blaine. Who just fell over.

Awesome.

* * *

><p><em>You like to drink? Yeah!<br>__So do we, yeah  
><em>_Get more bottles, yeah  
><em>_Bring 'em to me, yeah  
><em>_Hold your glasses up, people everywhere  
><em>_Now everybody put your hands in the air, say  
><em>_Yeah, yeah, Yeah, girl I wanna, yeah, yeah, yeah  
><em>_I wanna see you tonight_

* * *

><p>"So, I hear this catastrophe is partly your fault," Kurt said to Puck once he had escaped both of the women that blamed him for all of their problems. Not that they weren't mostly his fault, but that was beside his point.<p>

"You only think it's a catastrophe because your boy would rather be mackin' on Rachel then spending time with you." Puck pointed over towards where Blaine was trying to kiss Rachel as she was looking for another microphone. She seemed to be have trouble finding one, which made sense. She didn't exactly enjoy sharing the spotlight.

"And how exactly did this catastrophe start?" Kurt snapped, ignoring what seemed to be the blatant truth in Puck's words.

"I told Rachel she sucked," Puck replied, and that startled a laugh out of Kurt.

"And you didn't get bitch slapped with tears and a dramatic monologue?" Kurt asked in surprise.

"Nah, Rachel's hot on me." Kurt rolled his eyes, so he probably missed Puck kissing his guns or doing something equally as macho. "Besides, she's on this crazy thing where she needs to 'experience every bit of life in order to write a masterpiece like...' damn, I forgot the chick's name. The point is, she's lost her shit trying to write songs for Regionals, and she has an empty house. Hence: party!" Puck said the last word at an elevated volume, earning himself a serious of whoops over the painfully loud music. "And like I told Rachel, parties always suck unless you're drunk." Puck tried to push a Solo Cup of 'punch' into his hand, but Kurt ignored it.

"Wait until _I_ tell Rachel that you were drunk enough to tell me trade secrets about the first time the New Directions have ever actually prepared for a competition." He wouldn't actually do that to Puck (at some points he had wanted the idiot to die, but not recently), but it was enough to scare his alcohol-soaked cognitive functions.

"Dude! _Not_ cool." Kurt laughed.

"Do you always sound like Finn when you're drunk?"

"I _always_ sound like Finn," Puck said. It was amazing he could still walk perfectly straight, given how stupid his words sounded (but maybe that wasn't the alcohol). Either way, Puck walked over to him, yelled 'bro,' to cheering, gave a very sober and amused looking Finn a bro hug, and wandered off.

"This party sucks," Finn mouthed to Kurt, who nodded. He couldn't imagine the night going any worse.

"Found it!" Rachel yelled, and she celebrated by giving _his_ Blaine another quick kiss before bossing around the guys to set up the stage and the lighting effects that she deemed necessary whenever she sang. Hopefully, she could do no worse in her house than she did in the auditorium. Most of the kids in the room were half-blind as it was. "Let's sing!" It was the first and only time in the history of the world when the idea of Rachel singing was met by cheers.

* * *

><p><em>Watch me as I dance under the spotlight<br>__Listen to the people screaming out more, and more  
><em>'_Cos I create the feeling that keep 'em coming back  
><em>_Yeah, I create the feeling that keep 'em coming back  
><em>_So captivating when I get it on the floor_

* * *

><p>The lights Rachel had bossed Puck into setting up were as infectious as the beat as Rachel hit play on the karaoke track. Kurt had picked a spot on the piano bench (mostly because he could watch Blaine perform while the tenor's body blocked Rachel from sight), but most of the club was either up and dancing, or drinking. Artie appeared to be waving Brittany's shirt around, and Sam and Santana were back at it on the couch.<p>

**You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar  
><strong>**When I met you (you)  
><strong>**I picked you out, I shook you up, and turned you around  
><strong>**Turned you into someone new (new)**

Blaine's dancing skills were neither better nor worse when drunk, and he appeared to be sticking mostly to hand gestures. Minus the fact he seemed torn between eating and choking the microphone, he was still an excellent performer, as hammered as he was.

**Don't, don't you want me?  
><strong>**You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me  
><strong>**Don't, don't you want me?  
><strong>**You know I don't believe it when you say that you don't need me**

The only part that was annoying Kurt was that Blane appeared to be singing _directly_ at Rachel, with no regard for the audience or anything. On the bright side, Rachel was a terrible answer while drunk, and it was funny to watch her embarrass herself. Too bad he would be the only one who remembered long enough to make fun of her.

_**It's much to late to find  
><strong>__**You think you've changed your mind  
><strong>__**You better change it back or we will both be sorry**_

_**Don't you want me, baby?  
><strong>__**Don't you want me? Oh-oh-oh  
><strong>__**Don't you want me, baby?  
><strong>__**Don't you want me? Oh-oh-oh**_

They both looked over at the audience at the same time, but Blaine's gaze soon slid back to Rachel. During the next few lines, Kurt learned that hair-flipping wasn't a talent of Rachel's, and they both looked and sounded ridiculous when they were trying to simultaneously jump and sing. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying their performance, and Kurt was kind of hating it.

_I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar  
><em>_That much is true (is true)  
><em>_But even then I knew I'd find a much better place  
><em>_Either with or without you (out you)_

Rachel appeared to be framing her face with one hand, and Blaine was just circling her, fanning himself, and this number made _no_ sense to someone who was sober. And Blaine could _not_ be grinding as close to Rachel as he looked. THey were moving together perfectly... dear God, they looked like they were practically dry humping on the stage! (And Kurt justified using a fictional character's name by including it in a sentence where he talked about dry humping, a subject the fictional character disapproved of).

**Don't**, (_don't_*) **don't you want me?** (_Don't you want me?_)  
><strong>You know I can't believe it <strong>_**when I hear that you won't see me  
><strong>_**Don't**, (_don't_*) **don't you want me?** (_Don't you want me?_)  
><strong>You know I don't believe it <strong>_**when you say that you don't need me**_

Everyone else seemed to find this repulsive number romantic. Artie and Brittany had kissed softly (Brittany now mostly clothed), Mike and Tina were kissing, Sam and Santana were back to making out, and even Lauren had pulled Puck onto her shoulder. Rachel kept looking out at the audience (alcohol couldn't change her _entire_ personality), but Blaine kept staring at her. Kurt couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the look.

On the bright side, he was getting quite a nice view of Blaine's butt.

_**It's much too late to find  
><strong>__**You think you've changed your mind  
><strong>__**You better change it back or we will both be sorry  
><strong>__**Don't you want me, baby?**_

"I want you, I do!" Santana yelled out, obviously having detached herself from Sam's lips, and Kurt rolled his eyes. He knew Rachel wasn't the only girl in the room attracted to Blaine, but he was _gay_.

_**Don't you want me? Oh-oh-oh  
><strong>__**Don't you want me, baby?  
><strong>__**Don't you want me? **_**Oh-oh  
><strong>_**Don't you want me? Oh-oh-oh  
><strong>__**Don't you want me, baby?**_

They ended the song so close together, they could have linked arms and cross cup drank champagne... as if they needed more alcohol. Kurt wished he had picked a spot on the other side of the stage. He would have had to see more of Rachel's hideous dress, but he would be able to see Blaine's expression at the end of the song.

He was kind of terrified that it might be as awestruck as Rachel's.

* * *

><p><em>Here's the situation<br>__Been to every nation  
><em>_Nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do  
><em>_You know my motivation  
><em>_Given my reputation  
><em>_Please excuse me I don't mean to be rude  
><em>_But tonight I'm fucking you_

* * *

><p>In an ideal world, the party would have died down after Rachel's screeching began everyone's hangovers instantaneously, but the world had already proven its hatred of him several times, and continued to do so by making the New Directions cheer for the atrocity they had just witnessed.<p>

Since the world clearly really _loathed_ him, Rachel grabbed Blaine and kissed him at the end of the song. Her screeching clearly didn't sober him either, because he happily went along with it.

At least, he looked pretty freakin' happy with himself.

Once Rachel was done making out with the guy she knew Kurt was head-over-heels for, and she had been thoroughly praised by drunkards for her mediocre performance, she cranked the music up to the point that no one could hear anyone else at any volume below a scream. It was the only thing she could have done to make Kurt's headache worse.

Kurt's automatic reaction was to jump when someone grabbed his elbow, but it was just Finn, and his step-brother pulled him out of the party and up the stairs. The kitchen was blissfully silent.

"You looked like you were having about as much fun as I was," Finn said by way of explanation, and Kurt just nodded. There was no part of the night that he was willing to admit he had enjoyed.

"Well, it's probably not bothering you as much as its bothering me that Rachel and Blaine seem to have mutually spilled super glue on their lips, so probably worse." Finn shrugged. "On the bright side, everyone in that room is drunk enough to spill New Directions trade secrets."

"Dude, I'm not the one worried about you betraying us. Besides, it's not like there's much to spill."

"Touché. Planning has never been the New Directions' forte."

"Are you taking French there or something?"

"Two unfortunate turns of phrase, though there's a joke here about Blaine and Rachel Frenching that I really don't want to make," Kurt dismissed. "God, I can hear the music through the _floor_," he noticed now that he was listening for it. "How is there no blood flowing down there?"

"Well, the only person Rachel seemed likely to kill was Blaine, and she seems to have found a new method of torture," Finn imitated him in a high voice, and Kurt died laughing.

"Thank you, Finn. I needed that," he said once he had composed himself, and Finn just quirked a little smile at him.

"No problem."

"Though it's a little terrifying that's how I sound to the rest of the world."

"It should be."

"You're an awful brother."

"Love you too, man."

"I don't want to go back downstairs."

"Me neither," Finn admitted. "I'm just the driver, but I have a feeling it's going to be a while before the party ends."

Kurt looked up at the first clock he had seen in... "Five hours? Have we really been here for five hours?" It was almost eleven.

"Time goes fast when you're sucking salt off your 'best friend's' shoulder," Finn said with a little smirk, using the air quotes possibly only to embarrass Kurt more.

"Shut up," Kurt said, very aware that his cheeks were flaming red. "He's very pushy when he's drunk."

"And I'm sure, to him, you're very pushable sober."

"I really hate you sometimes."

"Love you too."

"I vote we don't go back downstairs."

"Agreed," Finn said, just as Kurt's nightmare followed him upstairs.

Blaine and Rachel burst through the basement door, giggling and kissing and generally making Kurt want to strangle both of them. Especially Rachel.

Blaine paused when he saw them, but Rachel continued kissing at his face and jaw until he pushed her away. "Oh, hey guys," he said with a giggle, and he was obviously still _very_ drunk. Otherwise he would be uncomfortable, or at least embarrassed. And not kissing Rachel. "What's up?" he asked, hiccuping then laughing as Rachel giggled.

"Vomiting, you?" Kurt asked rather dryly, and he was kind of counting on the fact that Blaine wouldn't remember most of the night in the morning. After all, he _had_ to be near blackout levels. Why else would he kiss _Rachel Berry_? Not that she wasn't a delightful girl (occasionally), but therein lay the problem... she was a _girl_.

"We were just... um..."

"Headed up to Rachel's room," Kurt filled in, because even drunk, Blaine looked kind of guilty.

"Yeah. I mean... we weren't... but yeah." Blaine giggled. "Hi, Finn."

"Uh, hi?" Finn asked, because he obviously hadn't figured out that Blaine thought he was cute while drunk.

"Bye, guys," Blaine said with a giggle, then he kissed Rachel again and they continued their drunken pilgrimage up the stairs. Kurt was in the middle of wishing Rachel brain damage from falling down her own stairs when Finn started laughing.

"What?" Kurt demanded, kind of angry that his _brother_ found this _funny_.

"Blaine's gonna be so weirded out when he wakes up tomorrow morning," Finn said, still laughing, and Kurt giggled at that too. "Come on, dude, don't be so hard on him. I bet he's a first-time lightweight who's only drinking because he either wants to impress you-"

"Which definitely didn't work."

"Or your friends."

"Which probably worked better than he could have ever imagined," Kurt said, pointing upstairs, and then they were both laughing.

* * *

><p><em>Tonight we're going har har-har ha-ha-hard<br>__Just like the world is our our-our our-our-ours  
><em>_We're tearin' it apart part-part pa-pa-part  
><em>_You know we're superstars; we are who we are!  
><em>_We're dancing like we're dum dum-dum dum-dum-dumb  
><em>_Our bodies go num num-num num-num-numb  
><em>_We're be forever youn youn-youn youn-youn-young  
><em>_You know we're superstars; we are who we are!_

* * *

><p>Since Rachel and Blaine were upstairs, Kurt and Finn headed back down to the party. By midnight, the party seemed rather subdued, and Puck cackled as he invited Kurt and Finn in on the bet about what Rachel and Blaine were doing upstairs. Half the money was on having wild sex to the tune and rhythm Broadway classics, and the other half was on Rachel dressing Blaine up in animal sweaters and taking advantage of his inebriation to convince him that they were a fantastic choice of attire. Kurt put ten bucks on the sweaters, just because he could.<p>

"Hey, baby," Mercedes said, squeezing onto the couch next to him. He, Finn, Artie, and Puck were watching Santana, Mike, Tina, and Brittany have a rather uncoordinated dance-off, and if it wasn't for the underaged drinking involved, Kurt probably could have won America's Funniest Home Videos with the footage Puck was shooting. "How are ya?" she asked, grabbing his head and kissing his cheek. "I've missed you," she said mournfully, then started cackling.

"Hey there Merce," Kurt said, scooting as much as he could without being in Puck's lap. Not that Puck would have minded, considering he was the only person still drinking _more_, and he seemed to be quite out of it. "Miss you too, girl."

"So, how're the boys?" Kurt took that to be her asking about the Warblers. Really, it was all-boys. That was kind of the point.

"For the first time since I met them, finally at peace," Kurt said, thinking back on the craziness that had been the last month. March was going to be better than February, he knew it. It had to be.

"Good," Mercedes said with a chuckle, leaning her head on Kurt's shoulder. "If you ever want to come back, I'll kick the crap out of Karofsky for you." Mercedes didn't say it in any kind of menacing tone, giggling instead.

"Well, I appreciate the offer, but I like Dalton more than I ever imagined I could," Kurt said, glad that his girl wasn't too drunk to have a conversation with.

"You mean because you like _Blaine _more than you ever imagined you could," Mercedes corrected him very seriously, and Puck snorted.

"No, _Rachel_ likes Blaine more then he ever imagined she could." Finn hit him on the arm before Kurt could, muttering something that sounded like 'not cool, dude.'

"Well, Rachel's a silly one," Mercedes said, which made her start laughing, which made Tina start laughing, which made her fall down in the middle of a cool dance move with Brittany, which made both of them hit the floor rather hard, which made Santana have the excellent idea of playing drunk Twister. Since Puck was all for getting up close and personal with drunk chicks, Kurt agreed to film it. That film would be blackmail material for the rest of high school, he just knew it.

By the time Santana had won the first round of drunk Twister because she had kicked Puck in the groin while moving her foot over to the red, Blaine and Rachel were back from upstairs, still giggling but with less kissing. Blaine plopped on the couch next to Kurt, and Kurt quickly stretched out so Rachel couldn't join them.

Not that he was petty, or anything, but really, there was no room on the couch!

"Hey, there!" Blaine said with a bright smile, and Kurt would have found his drunkenness so much cuter if he hadn't just been up in Rachel's room.

"So, for the purposes of the bet," Quinn asked, and she, not shockingly, sounded angry, "were you or were you not upstairs betraying one of our best friends in pursuit of your inebriated libido?" Bless Quinn's heart. She could use five syllable words while completely smashed. Patrick Verona would have been impressed.

"I... was..." Blaine looked over at Rachel in confusion from where she was hanging off an annoyed-looking Finn, and she nodded absentmindedly. "Was. I was."

Quinn said a _not_ nice thing under her breath, and Kurt lost ten dollars.

He had a feeling that wasn't the only thing he lost.

* * *

><p><em>I'm coming home<br>__I'm coming home  
><em>_Tell the world I'm coming home  
><em>_Let the rain wash way all the pain of yesterday  
><em>_I know my kingdom awaits, and they've forgiven my mistakes  
><em>_I'm coming home, I'm coming home  
><em>_Tell the world I'm coming... home_

* * *

><p>By 2 A.M., the party had officially wound down, and drunk Twister was mostly Santana and Brittany cuddled on the mat while Artie glared at them. Not that that wasn't entertainment for some (Puck). Rachel had invited Tina, Quinn, and Mercedes to sleep over, but Quinn had rejected her offer, still angry. Artie's father was coming to pick him up (apparently they had talked about this), and he was taking Puck, Lauren, and Mike home, because they lived on the opposite side of town with Artie. Quinn, Santana, Brittany, Sam, and Blaine were Finn and Kurt's only charges, and Santana and Brittany were both sleeping at Brittany's house (which was much closer than Santana's).<p>

"Dude, either you have to take them all home, or you can let me drive the Nav and you can take Blaine in my truck." Kurt sighed and looked at his best friend, who was half asleep on the couch, and sighed.

Finn had probably been looking forward to this day for a long time. "Fine. Take the Nav and drive Quinn, Sam, Santana, and Brittany home." And have fun with that particular grouping.

"You're the best, dude," Finn said, clapping Kurt for a shoulder on the second before they switched keys and Finn was off to the task of waking up Santana and Brittany.

Kurt sighed and mentally composed himself to the idea that his baby might get totaled, before turning around and looking at Blaine. He had been crazy all night, but he looked completely subdued at the moment, clearly warn out and happy. He was smiling faintly, his eyes almost shut.

"Blaine," Kurt said gently, shaking his shoulder, "come on, Blaine, wake up."

"'m awake," Blaine muttered, his eyes fluttering open, and his smile widened a little when he saw Kurt standing there. "Hi."

"Hi yourself," Kurt said. "Come on, time to go home." Blaine pushed himself up from the couch only to immediately slump off the side on his face. "Blaine. Come on."

"'m _trying_," he complained. Taking pity on the combination of exhaustion and inebriation Blaine was facing, Kurt grabbed his arm and helped to haul him up.

* * *

><p><em>I really hate to let this moment go<br>__Touching your skin, and your hair falling slow  
><em>_When a goodbye kiss, feels like this_

_Don't you wanna stay here a little while?  
><em>_Don't you wanna hold each other tight?  
><em>_Don't you wanna fall asleep with me tonight?  
><em>_Don't you wanna stay here a little while?  
><em>_We can make forever feel this way  
><em>_Don't you wanna stay?_

* * *

><p>Blaine made it all the way to the house before the former contents of his stomach made themselves present, thankfully in the toilet. Not that it would have matter quite as much if Blaine had puked in Finn's truck versus in the Nav. It already smelled a little like puke anyway.<p>

"Uh," Blaine groaned once he appeared to be done, standing up from where he was crouched by the toilet. "That wasn't fun." At least Blaine sounded a little bit more coherent. He hadn't been drinking for the last few hours of the party.

"Well, that's the result of all the fun you head earlier," Kurt said from his spot on his bed, trying not to sound bitter and probably failing wildly. Stupid bottle.

Blaine smiled, obviously still too drunk to pick up on Kurt's tone. "It was fun, wasn't it?" Blaine asked, still sounding pretty sleepy. He was brushing his teeth, and he didn't seem entirely aware that he was using Kurt's toothbrush. He would have to get a new one tomorrow. "Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as you had," Kurt muttered, and thankfully Blaine either didn't hear or didn't understand; he was still too drunk for the innocent act.

"I had fun," Blaine said with a giggle. "I forgot how much _fun_ the New Directions were. So fun." Blaine paused, but just for a second. "Is the word fun starting to sound funny to you?" Blaine giggled at his pun.

"No, it started to sound funny to me about an hour ago," Kurt muttered sarcastically. He had a feeling Blaine heard that one and picked up on the tone, because it was the first time he had shut up the entire night.

Kurt put on his pajamas in the bathroom, doing a severally-abridged version of his moisturizing routine, but Blaine was already asleep on the bed by the time he got out. He had just crashed in his clothes, obviously too tired to care, and Kurt wasn't going to wake him up. He looked like he could use the rest.

"Goodnight, Blaine," he whispered to his friend's prone form as he climbed into the other side of the bed, making sure to leave an appropriate amount of space between them.

He had come to Lima to make a decision surrounded by the people he loved, but Finn was in the process of driving the people he loved home, and he was still no closer to a decision. Finn had definitely put thing in perspective for him at the party. Yes, Blaine had spent the whole night with Rachel, and while he was watching, it drove him _crazy_ with jealousy. Logically speaking, however, Blaine would probably be embarrassed and uncomfortable and possibly fairly grossed-out when he woke up, and everything would be all right. Blaine was still an amazing friend, and an amazing person, but he _knew_ how Kurt felt about him, and he continued to lead him on and tease him and flirt with him and never make any suggestion of his feelings being requited, and he was sick of it. Just... tired of it.

"Are you mad at me?" came a quiet voice from the other side of the bed, and apparently Blaine wasn't asleep.

"No," Kurt replied honestly, because he wasn't mad at Blaine. He was just confused by Blaine. Always.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm not mad at you."

"You should be. I'm an ass." Kurt almost snorted, because Blaine didn't swear usually, and Blaine seemed to be suffering from the drunken-honestly that everyone mentioned.

"You say that as if I didn't know that."

"Do you hate me?" Blaine asked.

"I told you I'm not mad at you."

"That doesn't answer my question. Do you hate me?" Blaine was like a persistent little child, and Kurt was torn between wanting to kick him and wanting to cuddle him. Always so torn.

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because I don't know how to be a good boyfriend, or how to be romantic, and I _know_ it's hurting you that nothing's happened between us, but I don't know what I'm doing, and I don't know how to _not_ hurt you." Blaine sounded genuinely distraught. "How can I not hurt you, Kurt?"

Kurt didn't have a good answer to that. "Go to bed, Blaine."

"Do you hate me?" Blaine asked again, and Kurt was starting to get the idea that Blaine wouldn't shut up until he answered.

"No. Go to bed."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"Goodnight, Blaine."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whoo. *dramatically wipes brow* This was one hell of a chapter to write, and it wasn't easy. Being drunk isn't exactly my forte, so I apologize if it seems... wrong. I don't know. Off. And as for the music: it's all the kind of popular music that you would hear at a party (or, like, a school dance), and I tried to make it fit the mood of the party. No teenager really plays 'Johnny, Are You Queer?' as they play Spin the Bottle. Come on, Glee, try a little harder than that. Plus, this episode was notable for the amount of background music, and they're all songs from around the time the episode aired. So hey.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_All I Do is Win_' by DJ Khaled feat. T-Pain, Ludacris, Snoop Dogg, and Rick Ross (mentioned)  
>'<em>Higher<em>' by Taio Cruz feat. Kylie Minogue or Travie McCoy (depending on the country)  
>'<em>Like a G6<em>' by Far East Movement feat. The Cataracs and Dev  
>'<em>Hit the Lights<em>' by Jay Sean feat. Lil Wayne  
>'<em>Bottoms Up<em>' by Trey Songz feat. Nicki Minaj  
>'<em>Hey Baby<em>' by Pitbull feat. T-Pain  
>'<em>DJ Got Us Fallin' in Love Again<em>' by Usher feat. Pitbull  
>'<em>Yeah 3X'<em> by Chris Brown  
>'<em>More<em>' by Usher  
>'<em>Don't You Want Me?'<em> by the Human League (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>Tonight (I'm Fuckin' You)<em>' by Enrique Iglesias feat. Ludacris  
>'<em>We R Who We R'<em> by Ke$ha  
>'<em>Coming Home<em>' by Diddy - Dirty Money feat. Skylar Grey  
>'<em>Don't You Wanna Stay?'<em> by Kelly Clarkson & Jason Aldean

**Sorry it's been a while.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	33. Cheers to Basketball

Blaine was still sleeping soundly as Kurt started his moisturizing routine. Kurt had already woken up, eaten breakfast, and showered, but it wasn't that late, and he figured sleep was good for Blaine's hangover, though he wasn't really sure. He'd only had one hangover in his life, and at the time he was still in the process of realizing that he'd been given alcohol.

At least Blaine didn't snore, though Kurt had needed to push him away once or twice during the night when Blaine tried to get handsy. Despite his best efforts to remain appropriate, he still woke up with Blaine snuggled in his arms, and he couldn't find it in himself to be angry.

He wanted to give up on Blaine, he knew that now. But what he also knew was that he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. Blaine was sweet and funny and smart and wonderful, and even when Kurt was angry to the point of contemplating physical harm, Blaine still managed to do something to endear himself to Kurt. He was a hopeless cause.

"Hey, Kurt, come give me a hand with these eggs!" he heard his Dad call from downstairs as he rubbed some more lotion on his face.

"I'll be down in a minute," Kurt called in return, not particularly wanting his dad to come upstairs and find Blaine in his bed. Not that they had been doing anything wrong, but his dad would never see it that way. Kurt knew that.

"What the hell is a shirred egg?" His dad asked, and Kurt could hear his work boots on the stairs, as well as his voice getting closer. Blaine was mostly hidden beneath a mountain of pillows (one of which Kurt had thrown over his head just to have warning in case Blaine woke up when he wasn't entirely... decent), but there was no way his dad wouldn't notice him. Time to face the music. "Is that... is that the same thing as a scrambled egg?" Kurt chuckled to himself. His dad was hopeless in the kitchen, but he really did try.

Kurt took a deep breath as he heard the door open. "Hey, what's this?" Burt asked, obviously noticing Blaine in the bed before he noticed Kurt in the mirror in his vanity nook. "Today was the day you were going to teach me all about brunch."

Deciding to play it cool, Kurt peered around the corner and replied, "I'll be down in a sec," as he rubbed the last moisturizer onto his skin. Kurt turned back to the mirror, deciding not to watch his dad's face as Blaine woke up (the tenor had excellent timing as always).

Blaine let out a sigh. "Oh, where am I?" he asked, and Kurt could tell by his voice that he was in pain. Good. That's what too much drinking got him.

"Oh," his dad said, clearly thrown. "Uh, I'm sorry. My bad." Why was he apologizing? Kurt watched him as he left the room, but his dad didn't look angry. Just... confused. Very confused.

Blaine groaned, hiding his face back in his mountain of pillows. "Oh, my _head_," he complained.

"And that's why two wine coolers, about a dozen shots, and more cups of spiked punch than I could keep track of, is a bad idea," Kurt said coolly to the body in his bed, only taking a little pity on his friend by lowering his voice.

"Did I really drink that much?" Blaine groaned, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"Ask your hangover," Kurt said with a sigh as he finished his moisturizing routine, grabbing aspirin from his bathroom along with some water.

"My hangover counts the cups of spiked punch at about a thousand," Blaine complained into the pillow, and Kurt smiled in spite of himself.

"Sounds about right," Kurt said, pulling the shades and lowering the lights a little so Blaine could be convinced to come out of his pillow cocoon. "Here, take some Advil."

"Is this your room?" Blaine asked as he squinted up at Kurt.

"Yes. I brought you here because I didn't feel like dragging your drunk ass all the way back to Dalton."

"And the administration probably would have kicked us both out for drinking even though I'm willing to bet you were sober." Blaine chuckled and then groaned. "Plus, if Charlie, Wes, and David had seen me like this, there would be more dicks drawn on my face."

"Yep," Kurt agreed, trying to keep a straight face. "This way there's only one or two." Blaine groaned. "I'm kidding."

"It's too early and I'm too hungover for sarcasm," Blaine complained as he finally took the Advil.

"Sorry, that's all I've got," Kurt said un-sympathetically. "Let's get some breakfast and some coffee in you, and you'll feel better."

"Hangover expert, Hummel?" Blaine asked with a little smile, eyes fully open now. Even with a hangover, Blaine was too much of a morning person.

"Try logical," Kurt corrected. "Just let me get dressed."

"Are you naked under there?" Blaine asked, peering at Kurt's robe in curiosity.

"How can you be hungover and still clearly drunk?" Kurt asked as he ducked into the bathroom, trying to hide his burning face. He certainly wasn't _naked_, but Blaine didn't know that and Kurt certainly wouldn't be proving it.

"Why do you think I'm drunk?" Blaine asked indignantly.

"Because if you were sober, you would know that I will slap you for asking questions like that." Blaine laughed.

"So you _are_ naked under there."

"Not even in your dreams, Anderson."

"Can't promise you that, Hummel." Kurt could tell by Blaine's tone that he had winked in the general direction of the bathroom.

"And you wonder why Charlie complains about us flirting."

"Charlie has no room to talk. He's the _king_ of flirting. He's practically made it into an art form."

"True."

"Is your dad still down there?"

"Considering it's his house, probably."

"Is he going to hate me?"

"Blaine, he was a drunken homophobic football player in high school. He really doesn't have room to criticize anybody."

"Doesn't make me feel any better, or make him any less likely to kill me for sleeping in his son's bed." Blaine had obviously figured that part out, so Kurt changed the subject.

"How much of last night do you remember?"

"Not terribly much," Blaine admitted. "I remember the beginning, up until Rachel's first drink, but after that everything's kind of fuzzy." Kurt came out of the bathroom fully dressed, but Blaine was still sitting on his bed in his clothes from last night. "Did I really do a shot off Brittany?"

"Yes," Kurt said with a laugh.

"And I let Rachel do a shot off me?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"Yes." Hopefully, Blaine didn't remember what happened between those two events.

"And _you_ did a shot off me too," Blaine said with a sly grin, and Kurt sighed.

"In case you don't remember clearly, you coerced me."

"Doesn't mean you _didn't_," Blaine said in a sing-song voice then cracked up laughing. "But, of course, you, party-pooper, were completely sober, so it probably wasn't much fun for you."

"Precisely," Kurt said, glad Blaine had dropped it. "Do you remember Spin the Bottle?"

"Vaguely. I kissed... Rachel," Blaine said slowly, and it sounded like there was a metaphorical ton of bricks dropping on his head. It wasn't exactly the horrified reaction Kurt had been hoping for.

"Do you remember anything else?" Like how gross kissing Rachel was?

"Not really. It kind of goes black after that." That wasn't surprising, considering how much Blaine had drank. It was a little shocking that he remembered _anything_.

"You don't remember singing with her? Or going upstairs with her? Or how much you hit on Finn?" Kurt asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I hit on Finn?" Blaine asked in shock, and Kurt ignored the hint of fear he heard in his best friend's tone. They all had their scars.

"Once or twice. You seem to find him rather cute when you're drunk." Blaine groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Seriously, that's all you got out of that particular line of questioning?" Kurt asked, a little annoyed.

"I vaguely remember singing a Human League song, but... I went upstairs with Rachel?" he asked, and now he sounded suitably horrified. "We didn't..." Blaine trailed off.

"I couldn't tell you. What I _can_ tell you is that we had a rather interesting bet as to whether you two were having wild s-sex to the tune and rhythm of Broadway classics or she was dressing you up in animal sweaters and persuading you they were fashionable via inebriation."

"You stuttered when you said sex," Blaine said with a smirk.

"Not the point," Kurt said with a sigh. Blaine didn't seem to be very good at focusing on the important parts of his sentences when he was hungover.

"I think I need that coffee now," was all Blaine said.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, Kurt's dad had made himself scarce by the time Kurt and Blaine were coming downstairs for coffee and breakfast.<p>

"Since it's past five, I'm assuming you've already eaten?" Blaine asked with a little smile, but his face still looked pretty pained. Since Kurt was feeling a little vindictive, he didn't bother to pull the shades in the kitchen.

"Of course." Kurt started doing a quick Google search on his phone and found best-hangover-cure-dot-com. Perfect. "So, stimulants dehydrate you, which is the last thing you want hungover... how about Gatorade?" Kurt asked his best friend, ignoring his initial disgust at the fact they actually _had_ Gatorade in the house thanks to Finn.

"Anything that will make the headache stop," Blaine said obediently, folding his arms and then placing his head on them.

"The internet suggests bananas and toast with marmite," Kurt said as he grabbed a banana from the bowl and some bread from the counter.

"Sounds good."

"Do you even know what marmite is?"

"No clue." Kurt laughed as his best friend.

"You're just lucky we have it."

"I'm sure." Kurt detected a hint of sarcasm in Blaine's tone, but he ignored it.

"Hey, dude!" Finn said rather loudly, and Kurt loved him for it. "How's the hangover?"

"Worse now," Blaine muttered into his arms, but Kurt had a feeling Finn didn't hear him. Not that his brother would have cared anyway. "I apologize for hitting on you last night, by the way." That part was audible.

"Oh, that's what you were doing?" Blaine momentarily picked his head out of his arms to glare at Kurt before hiding his eyes from the light again.

"What? I only told you that you were hitting on him. I forgot to mention that he was clueless," Kurt said innocently, but Blaine's only reply was a groan.

"I don't suppose I did anything else regrettable last night?" he asked.

"I'm guessing Kurt told you about your heated moments with Rachel." Finn made it sound especially gross. Kurt loved him for that too.

"Yeah," Blaine said, in that same slow, hedging tone he had used upstairs when admitting to Kurt that he remembered Spin the Bottle. "Not exactly what I expected of a New Directions' party."

"I'm not sure I want to know what you expected," Finn said with a loud laugh as he banged the refrigerator door yet. If Blaine hadn't groaned in pain, Kurt probably would have yelled at him for rough treatment of appliances.

"You really, really don't."

* * *

><p>"I think at this point, with the headache I currently have, I would actually kill Charlie for being his usual loud and obnoxious self," Blaine complained as Kurt loaded his bag into the Navigator, having switched out most of his uniform sweaters for extra blazers because it was getting warmer.<p>

"You always say that, yet Charlie is still breathing," Kurt said with a laugh as he got in the front seat. Blaine still looked completely miserable, having showered and borrowed old clothes from before Finn's growth spurt, and Kurt was still enjoying it.

"The good news is, it's Saturday, I'm sure Charlie's off somewhere boning Lucas."

"That's a mental image I needed," Kurt said dryly.

"Sorry," Blaine said semi-apologetically. "I can't believe I drank so much last night."

"I can't believe you made out with Rachel on multiple occasions. The good news is," Kurt continued mimicking Blaine, "it's _Rachel_, so you probably didn't get past second base." Rachel had probably let him get _to_ second base, since she was drunk. Gross.

"I _never_ drink," Blaine said, ignoring Kurt's words entirely. Kurt wasn't sure if he was trying to repress the memory, or he just didn't want to talk about it. Either way, Kurt was fine with that.

"Try convincing anyone who was there last night of that," including Kurt.

"Well, I probably could, considering how well I held my liquor." Blaine rolled his eyes at himself, but he had a point.

"Maybe you're just a lightweight. I would make sense with the height thing."

"Sometimes optimism is really annoying." Kurt wanted to make Blaine say that again in front of a tape recorder and play it for him every time the tenor ignored him in the morning.

"Not according to you-sans-hangover."

"Well, me-con-hangover would like to slap me-sans-hangover for drinking so much."

"You're messing up your languages."

"Shut up." Blaine leaned his head against the too-tall headrest with a sigh. "I'm never drinking again-"

"So says sober-Blaine. Drunk-Blaine, on the other hand, told me last night he always wanted life to be like that."

"I seem to have many sides to me. Apparently, I'm not a box either... though boxes have six sides." Damn. Blaine remembered that story.

"Most of them idiotic," Kurt countered, but Blaine just shrugged.

"I never claimed to be simple or intelligent."

"Good, because you're neither." That was meant to be snarky, but it came out inappropriately frustrated for the conversation.

"What does that mean?" Blaine asked, giving Kurt a sideways look from the passenger seat as the countertenor merged onto the highway.

"It was an insult, Blaine."

"It didn't sound like one," Blaine commented, but he let it go. Apparently, Blaine-con-hangover was both less stubborn _and_ less optimistic. "Do we have practice today? Because the last thing I want to do right now is sing." And more likely to give up solos. Kurt would like life to _always_ be like that morning.

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh Captain, my Captain?" Kurt teased.

"Oh _Vocal_ Captain, my _Vocal_ Captain," Blaine corrected not very poetically, "and cut me some slack. I have a lot on my mind." Well, that was mysterious.

"Is there another over-age, blue collar boy?" Kurt asked, figuring it had been a few weeks and it was okay to tease. Someone who fell in 'love' as fast as Blaine, should logically fall out of it equally as quickly, right?

"Not funny," Blaine said exasperatedly, "and no. There's no boy." That was all Blaine said, but that was good enough for Kurt. At least he didn't have any more competition to worry about.

Thinking of competition... "Are we having more sham auditions for solos at Regionals, or is Wevid and Thad-"

"They're definitely a joint entity by now," Blaine agreed with a chuckle. "I won't be surprised if they have physically morphed together in the time we were gone."

"True. Anyway, sham auditions, or is the council finally ready to admit that you will end up singing everything anyway?"

"Bitter, bitter," Blaine sing-songed, and Kurt couldn't argue with that. "And I have no idea. I'm pretty sure Wes is too stressed about the competition to go through the motions. We haven't made it to Regionals in... forever."

That was probably the hundredth time Blaine had told him that. Was his best friend trying to make him feel guilty about secretly rooting for the New Directions? "Wes is too stressed about everything," Kurt replied instead of saying his real thoughts, making Blaine chuckle. "At least now you'll admit those auditions are just going through the _motions_ of fairness."

"Their results do seem to have a pattern, don't they?" Blaine teased with a smile.

"Really? I hadn't noticed!"

"Fair enough. Wes thinks that he's doing what's best for the club, but maybe now that he's dating another member of the council he'll actually listen to someone else's opinion."

"What do you think the probability of that is?"

"Slim to none, but it might be worth trying. We just have to make sure Wes is in a _really_ good mood first. I'm sure you remember the last time someone challenged his authority when he was in a bad mood."

"He flew David's underwear like a flag."

"Exactly, and all of his attacks are suitably personalized. I don't know if he could come up with anything mega-embarrassing for you, but I've known him for a long time and I'm sure he's capable of dredging up some old memory to embarrass me with."

"Good to know. If I ever want to blackmail you, I either ask Charlie or Wes for help." Blaine groaned.

"I regret speaking. I'm going to take a nap for the rest of the trip, because I'm obviously not having luck with common sense and the English language at the moment."

* * *

><p>Since Blaine had kept his promise about sleeping for the whole trip and had thus left Kurt bored with only Pavarotti to talk to, Kurt hadn't bothered to wake him up when they got to Dalton, leaving him in the car while he took his bags to his room.<p>

"It amazes me," Chris said as soon as Kurt walked in the room, trying his best yet failing to spin a basketball coolly on one finger, "that every time you leave and come back you have luggage. Either it's completely ceremonial, or your closet is going to explode from over-capacity one of these days."

"I switch out clothes, Christopher," Kurt said to his roommate as he placed his bags and bird on his bed. "For example, this time I got rid of most of my winter sweaters for my spring blazers."

"It must be terrible inside your head," was all Chris said in reply. "How was the party?"

"Ridiculous," was the word Kurt decided on. "The New Directions are bad sober, but drunk they're all beyond comprehension."

"That's actually a really terrifying thought."

"It truly is, especially if you're one of the only two people that didn't drink."

"Oh, so you got to spend a bunch of quality time with Blaine?"

"No," Kurt said with a laugh. "I got to spend a lot of quality time with my step-brother. Blaine got shit-faced drunk, pardon my language, and made out with one of my best friends."

"Ouch."

"One of my _female_ best friends."

"Double _ouch_," Chris said, with more emphasis.

"The _female_ best friend I've competed with for _everything_, including all boys and solos, for the last two years."

"Triple _ouch_." Chris chucked the basketball onto Kurt's bed, clearly giving up on trying to look cool. "So, I guess you're giving up on him?"

"That's the terribly frustrating part," Kurt said as he slammed the basketball back at Chris before it could muss and wrinkle his blazers, "I _want_ to give up on him because I'm tired of being ignored and strung along and always second place, but I _can't_. He's too frickin' adorable and endearing. Every time I'm ready to throw in the towel, he does something so irresistibly cute that I can't stay mad at him, and I cannot imagine my life at Dalton if I were to truly give up on him, because I would never be able to get over him and still stay friends with him. I can't do it, and it's driving me crazy."

"I wonder what's worse: a relationship with no passion, or a relationship with too much passion. Because you either have one or the other, and the answer's kind of up to Blaine."

"That's very helpful, Chris, thank you."

"Don't snap at me, dude, I'm not the one who's driving you crazy."

"You're the closest person that I can blame for my frustration."

"And I'm more than glad to be your punching bag, but it's still not my fault that you can't get over Blaine. Since we've been speaking of him for so long, where is he? I thought he had spidy sense about people discussing him?"

"He's asleep in the Navigator. He made me drive all the way here with no company, so I left him in there."

"Vengeful. I approve."

"I'm glad evil appeals to you."

"Hey, so if you were serious about that whole 'branching out' thing, I have a game tonight that's here."

"I'm in."

"And by 'I'm,' you of course mean Klaine."

"Please don't adopt the nickname. I hear it from everywhere."

"Too late. 7 o'clock."

* * *

><p>"How could you kill him?" Charlie barged dramatically into Kurt and Chris' room about an hour later. "I <em>need<em> him! He's my only shred of sanity!"

"That I believe," Kurt said calmly while Chris stared at Charlie in concern. "However, you can relax, because I didn't kill him. He's just sleeping in the Navigator because I was too vindictive to wake him up."

"Okay," Charlie accepted the explanation with a grain of salt. "I don't suppose _you_ want to join the moving crew then, or do I have to go find your car and wake up the idiot inside it?"

"The moving crew?" Chris asked, but it was Kurt's automatic reaction to say, 'no,' to whatever Charlie was proposing.

"As Kurt is aware, because Ryan slash Headmaster Fournier already told him this, Dalton has a set of very strict rules about students in a committed relationship rooming together. Wes and David, a couple, are roommates, and Jeff and Nick, a couple, are roommates, so they're essentially playing Dalton's version of Wife Swap. Headmaster Ryan has decreed, very officially, on Dalton letterhead and everything, that Wes and Jeff will be rooming together, and David and Nick will be rooming together."

"You've got to be kidding," Kurt said as Charlie made himself at home in Chris' desk chair. "Wes will kill Jeff within minutes, and David will be so bored with only Nick around to keep him company that he'll become a scourge to the rest of the dorm."

"I know. So while the Student Ambassadors are helping to move Jeff into Wes and David's old room and David into Nick and Jeff's old room, watched carefully by Headmaster Ryan, we're assembling the moving crew to move Jeff back into his room with David so they can plan epic pranks, and Nick move into Wes and David's room so they can... do whatever boring people do in private besides fuck."

"I'm confused," Chris admitted.

Charlie sighed and whipped out a chart divided into six boxes with everyone's name on it for both moves, color-coded. "Evolution of Room 1: Wes and David's, then Wes and Jeff's, and finally Wes and Nick's. Evolution of Room 2: Jeff and Nick's, then Nick and David's, and finally Jeff and David's."

"I would say I can't believe you made a chart, but I actually can at this point," Kurt said as he hung his last blazer in his closet. He had been lazy about unpacking before.

"I only made it because I got confused too," Charlie admitted. "Now, are you really going to make me go wake up Blaine so he can join the moving crew, or are you going to do it?"

"Go ahead," Kurt said, relaxing back on his bed. "I don't do manual labor, so count me out of this process."

"Is everything... all right?" Charlie asked. "Between you and Blaine?"

"Fine," Kurt said, and he was almost one hundred percent certain it wasn't a lie. Things between he and Blaine really were fine. He had acknowledged the fact that he couldn't give up on Blaine, so he was just going to enjoy their flirtation and try not to burn or pine or perish.

"How was your party?"

"Ask the very hungover Blaine in my car," Kurt said casually, knowing what he had just said was absolute, pure evil... as was the grin that broke out across Charlie's face.

"You're telling me a hungover Blaine is within walking distance of this exact location?" Kurt nodded. "I could _kiss you_!"

"Please don't," Kurt said immediately, but that didn't stop Charlie from grabbing his face and smacking a kiss to his nose. Luckily, the crazy boy had good aim.

"Toodles," Charlie yelled out behind him as he practically sprinted out of the room towards the parking lot.

"Are you aware of how evil that was?"

"Yep."

"Awesome."

* * *

><p>The Student Ambassadors were remarkably efficient, Kurt thought to himself as he and Chris joined the crowd that surrounded the section moving Jeff's stuff out of his rom. Kurt had no idea where the blonde boy himself was, but Nick looked pretty miserable as he watched his boyfriend's stuff be packed up, and David looked equally miserable standing in the doorway next to him. The difference was that David was acting, probably. He and Wes had only been roommates for a year and a half, they were more than used to avoiding annoying roommates to have sex, and they had managed to do so completely discreetly for a year. Considering how many times they had been caught since Kurt arrived at Dalton, that was pretty impressive.<p>

"I hate you _so much_ that I would like to set your hair on fire," Blaine's voice said from behind Kurt, and when the countertenor turned around, Blaine was clutching his head and Charlie was grinning maniacally.

"Are you talking to Charlie or me?"

"I haven't decided yet," Blaine gritted out.

"You've been asleep for hours, I can't believe you're not feeling better."

"I'm feeling _better_," Blaine corrected, "just not better enough to deal with this idiot, who gives me migraines when I'm _sober_!"

"'Better enough?'"

"Shut up."

"I sang Nickelback, James Blunt, and _Cotton-Eye Joe_ all the way from the parking lot," Charlie said rather proudly, and Blaine groaned.

"Even hearing you say the words hurts."

"My next choice was a toss-up between Taylor Swift, the Spice Girls, _Bye, Bye, Bye_, and _Barbie Girl_. If it had been anyone else but Blaine, my number one choice would have been Wham! but he actually likes that."

"I hate you so much."

"He's definitely talking to me with that one," Charlie said with a grin, and he sounded very proud. "Is this the sham move?"

"Maybe you shouldn't say that too loudly," Jeff said from behind them, and Kurt jumped about a foot. He had assumed Wes and Jeff would be near the room they had either just been moved into or were being moved into next. "Technically we're not breaking any rules, but I think it got under Headmaster Ryan's skin that we've both-we've _all_ been dating and rooming together for a long time." Jeff had a point.

"Did you guys already get moved in?"

"The Student Ambassadors are a group of crazy organized nut jobs."

"So, like your almost-roommate times twenty?"

"Pretty much," Jeff said, and Wes probably would have objected to the insult if he had been paying attention to anything but David and his mock-sad expression. Kurt could tell he was looking over at David because he looked both lovestruck and sad that David was sad.

"We were surprised to see that Wes and David are still physically separate entities."

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't true for most of the weekend," Jeff said with a wink, and when Kurt caught on, his cheeks heated up despite his best attempts to stay calm. "Virgins are so fun."

"Amen to that, brother," Charlie said, fist-bumping Jeff.

"Charlie, how is it that you didn't get roped into this? Since they were delving into rooming records, they must have noticed that you don't have a roommate and you haven't since... I can't actually remember the last time you had a roommate."

"That's because you're hungover. I had David as a roommate _pro tempore_ a week ago. And if they _had _been going through my impressive multi-volume rooming records, they probably would have noticed exactly how quickly I get rid of them and figured it wasn't worth the time and effort of moving another one in, because he would be gone as fast as the last ones."

"You are a truly terrifying human being," Chris said, and it didn't sound like a thought he had intended to vocalize. Still, Charlie smiled.

"Thank you." The crowd broke as a train of Student Ambassadors came through, carrying all of Jeff's bags. Jeff joined on the end of the little parade, as did Wes, and Nick shut the door to what was temporarily his and David's room.

Once the Student Ambassador's had placed everything on Wes and Jeff's floor and left, followed by the Headmaster himself, one half of the moving crew Kurt refused to be a part of began carrying Jeff's stuff back towards his old room, while the other half had already picked up Nick's stuff and was bringing it down the hallway.

"Perfect equilibrium," Charlie announced, standing in the door of the room David and Jeff were sharing.

"For now," Blaine added.

* * *

><p>At dinner, Kurt brought up the idea of going to Chris' game to Blaine, who immediately raised both triangular eyebrows. "<em>You<em> want to go to a basketball game?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes."

"You know, Kurt, I don't want to have the straight-boy talk with you,but despite what New Girl has made us believe, relationships between roommates don't really work." Kurt glared at his best friend. Why did Blaine have to be such a dink sometimes?

"I'm not _interested_ in Chris. I just thought it would be fun to go to one of his games and support him."

"_You_ thought it would be fun to go to a sporting event?" Blaine asked, and Kurt was getting really tired of his tone.

"Yes."

"Is this more hangover punishment? Because most of the headache is gone, and you're just wasting your time now."

"No, this isn't hangover punishment." Kurt had already tortured Blaine enough in the past twelve hours. Plus, the poor boy had kissed _Rachel_, and he could remember it. Kurt would have already signed up for a voluntary lobotomy.

"I get it." Blaine sighed dramatically. "Dalton's finally driven you entirely over the edge. This is you snapping, isn't it?"

"Are you going to be this annoying all dinner or are you just going to the game with me?"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing both."

"Touché."

"But yes, I will go to the game with you," Blaine answered finally, taking a big bite of his condiment-soaked hamburger.

"Oh, thank God, Klaine's finally going on a date!"

After that comment, Charlie had to pound Blaine on the back for almost three minutes before the tenor could breathe again. "That was _not_ funny," Blaine objected once he had swallowed his hamburger and gotten his breathing under control again.

"Actually, it kind of was. It _wasn't_ funny that you almost died, but the comment that caused said incident was pretty amusing," Charlie said with a wicked grin.

"At least he's now appropriately identifying humor," Wes said with an amused smile as he and David sat down.

"Before he would have thought it was funny that you almost died," David added on.

"Now, before _what_ is the question?" Wes asked in response.

"Seriously?" Blaine asked Charlie out of the blue. "You're making fun of _us_," he gestured between himself and Kurt," for going to the basketball game together when you could be making fun of _them_?"

"That's all I did while you were gone Friday night. Believe it or not, it actually got boring after a while. The problem is they ignore me. I can still garner quite a reaction from you. As evidenced by the meat-asphyxiation event." David started snickering and Wes rolled his eyes.

"Really, Charlie? Really?"

"Had to be said. There are much worse jokes I could have made about you taking too much at once." Now David was laughing outright and Wes was working hard to keep a straight face.

"Fair enough," Blaine said.

"On a more appropriate note," Michael began as he sat down next to David, "you guys are going to the basketball game tonight?" Blaine nodded. "What did you have to promise Kurt to get him there?"

Charlie opened his mouth and Blaine slapped a hand over it. "Don't even think about it... and no, it doesn't bother me that you're licking my hand. Come on, Charlie, we're not five-Ow!" Blaine yelped, taking his hand off Charlie's mouth. "He bit me!"

"_Charlie bit me_!" Everyone at the table said all at once in terrible British accents and cracked up laughing.

"No, seriously, how did you convince Kurt to go to a sporting event?" David asked once everyone had calmed down. Blaine was carefully analyzing the very distinct teeth marks in the palm of his hand. "I'm pretty sure I couldn't even convince Wes to do that without promising to-"

"You're done," Wes said, slapping a hand over his boyfriend's mouth.

"Wanky," Charlie said with a grin. "I don't know what he was gonna say, but _so _wanky."

"_Anyway_," Michael said in the awkward silence, drawing the word out.

"It was actually Kurt's idea," Blaine said after he had decided Charlie hadn't given him whatever form of rabies made a person Charlie-esque.

"Really?" Michael asked in shock.

"See, it's not just me!" Blaine said to Kurt, who sighed.

"_No_, I'm not the biggest sports fan, but basketball is fairly unobjectionable, considering there's no tackling or hitting or teeth being knocked out-"

"Some guys like that, you know," Griffin added as he walked over towards the jock table, which at Dalton wasn't nearly as respected as the Warbler tables. Chris was sitting over there, and he glared at the hockey player as Griffin approached.

"As I was saying, I don't hate basketball, and I thought it would be something fun to do for the weekend." Kurt shrugged. It wasn't like he'd never been to a sporting event before.

"I'm in," Charlie said. "Nothing better to do until Lucas gets here tomorrow."

"We'll come," Wes added. He still hadn't taken his hand off David's mouth, but the younger boy didn't seem terribly concerned or bothered by this fact.

"I was planning on going anyway," Michael added.

"Well, I meant-" Kurt began, but Charlie cut him off.

"Oh, we're sorry, did you and Blaine want to be _alone_?" he asked with a very suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "Because we can totally excuse ourselves from this." Thankfully, everyone ignored him, except a slightly pink Blaine... but that could have been from the choking or the bite or whatever disease Charlie had probably given him.

"You've never been to a game at Dalton, have you?" Michael asked as he finished his last French fry.

"No," Kurt replied, "but that doesn't mean I've never been to a sporting event before."

"Oh, you poor bastard," was all Michael said as he dumped his tray and left the cafeteria.

"What is he talking about?" Kurt asked the remaining members of the table hesitantly.

"Well-" Charlie cut Blaine off before the tenor could even begin explaining Michael's weird statement.

"Nothing," he answered Kurt. "I wouldn't bite me if I were you," he said to the boy he was quieting with his hand. "You never know what might be in my bloodstream."

"That really shouldn't be funny."

* * *

><p>"You look nice," Blaine said from the open door, Wes and David standing behind him engaged in some sort of silent conversation.<p>

"Any chance to get out of the uniform is an opportunity for fashion," Kurt said with a smile. In reality, he had dressed very simply, but the guys at Dalton weren't used to seeing such couture pieces, and he was taking advantage of that and being lazy.

"Didn't it used to be every moment is an opportunity for fashion or something?" Blaine asked with a smile, leaning against the doorway very nonchalantly.

"That was until I discovered navy blazers, obviously," Kurt said with a sarcastic huff. "Ready to go?"

"Yes. And you can ask them, but unless you're part of their mental circle, they won't answer you," Blaine said as he closed the door behind Kurt. "They've just kind of been following me around since dinner, talking silently. It's an odd mixture of very strange and kind of sweet."

"Sap," Kurt accused him. Blaine just shrugged. "Why did Michael warn me about going to a Dalton sports game?"

Blaine grinned rather evilly, but since Charlie wasn't around to stop him, he did answer. "Scientifically speaking, testosterone levels rise twenty-five percent in guys when their home team is winning, and since Dalton is in a lower class for basketball than it really should be, we will _definitely_ be winning. You think these guys are bad normally? Try adding extra hormones to the mix."

"Dear Lorde."

"With an 'e?'"

"Of course."

"Cute." Blaine rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Dalton home games are always pretty crazy. Sure you don't just want to chill with a popcorn and Scrubs marathon?"

"Positive. I think I'd rather go to a basketball game."

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

"Shut up," Kurt said with a laugh.

"You're in a good mood today," Blaine said, bumping Kurt's shoulder with his.

"Yeah, I am," was all Kurt said in response. Now that he had surrendered to his slightly-sad fate of always being obsessed with someone who hopefully liked him in return but was too afraid to act on it, it was kind of easier to enjoy his friendship with Blaine without worrying about what everything meant. It was nice.

"I'm glad. Things around here have been so weird lately. It'll be nice to see everyone happy while it lasts."

"And if I promised you a hundred thousand dollars I don't have and all of the bow ties in my closet, how long would you bet it would last?"

"Less than twenty-four hours."

"Agreed."

* * *

><p>The gymnasium was roaring by the time Kurt, Blaine, Wes, and David arrived, and the game didn't even state for another twenty minutes. Charlie waved them over to where he was lazed rather provocatively on a front row to prevent people from sitting, sprawled out next to an uncomfortable-looking Michael. "Took you long enough," he said as he sat up and they sat down. "Five more minutes and I think number 13 from the other team was going to jump me." Charlie winked at a rather interested looking basketball player.<p>

"You know, there _are_ other ways to lie down besides like that," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah, like Sheldon. Other than that, everything's either creepy or provocative."

"Amazing. You're capable of being both at the same time."

"It is a gift, Anderson, and I will not squander it."

"Would you two _please_ shut up?" Michael asked from the other side of Charlie. "Honestly, a basketball game is not a place for childish squabbles."

"Oh, yes, because getting out one's aggression through recreational sports is _so_ mature," Charlie said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, we all know what you do to get out aggression, but sadly, your boyfriend's not here."

Charlie frowned. "Dammit. Boyfriend."

"Did you just forget you had a boyfriend?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"Shut up. It's been a long day of torturing Blaine."

"Amen to that," Kurt said with a smile at his best friend.

"I hate you both. So much."

"Join the club," Wes said, finally looking away from David.

"Oh, look, Wes has returned to earth. How was your little love connection?" Charlie asked.

"Only you idiots could make a basketball game this gay," Michael said with a sigh. "I'm headed for the concession stand before the true madness begins. Anyone want anything?"

"Water?" Kurt asked.

"Popcorn," Blaine added, gesturing between himself and the countertenor sitting next to him. As if Kurt was actually going to ear the buttery, fattening food sold at a concession stand. He would tolerate basketball, but he had to draw the line somewhere. "Oh, and Red Vines, if they have them."

"Of course," David said with a roll of his eyes. "Pepsi. Babe?" he asked Wes.

"Coke." Wes stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend.

"Don't stick that thing out unless you're gonna put it to good use," Charlie and David said at the same time. "Charlie!" David objected.

"Relax, Davy, I have a boyfriend."

"As you recently remembered."

"Like that has changed Charlie's sense of humor at all."

"I hate you guys," Charlie said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

"Wesley?" the headmaster asked, approaching their group. "May I speak to you quickly?"

"_Please_ take him," Michael answered for Wes.

"My job," David muttered low enough that the headmaster couldn't hear. Charlie had to slap a hand over his own mouth to prevent from either laughing or making some rude comment in reply.

"Of course, Ryan," Wes said as he stood up, glaring at his very straight-faced friends, and if even oh-so-formal Wes called Headmaster Fournier 'Ryan,' it must have been an official Warbler thing.

"I find it hard to believe they serve both Coke and Pepsi products," Michael said to David as Wes and the headmaster walked off, quickly being joined by Thad in a basketball uniform.

"Thad plays basketball?" Kurt asked Blaine, who nodded.

"Just get us whatever they have, Wes is just being obstinate and argumentative," David said, watching two out of three council members and Ryan walking away and talking. "I feel like I should be part of this conversation," David said, getting up and following his boyfriend.

"_Okay_," Michael said slowly. "Charlie?"

"Redbull."

"Not on your life," Michael said, heading in the opposite direction from the Warbler council and Ryan, out of the gym and presumably towards the concession stand.

"We need to get him laid."

"Charlie, that has nothing to do with Michael being in a dry spell," Blaine replied. "Do you remember what happened the last time you had Redbull?"

"No," Charlie said with an evil grin.

"I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you blacked out. Anyway, _we_ all remember, and you're not allowed to have it anymore." Charlie pouted, but let it go.

"Where are Jeff and Nick?" Michael asked as he walked back with the snacks.

"That was quick," Charlie said as he stole some of Blaine's popcorn.

"So was that," Blaine muttered as Michael handed him the popcorn and he paid Michael.

"The CCD cheerleader that's running the concession stand before for the first half thinks I'm cute and let me cut the line," Michael said with a shrug as he sat down with his own candy and soda.

"I sense your dry spell moistening," Charlie said with a grin.

"Who uses the word 'moist?'" Michael asked. "That's a gross word."

"_Moist_," Charlie said exaggeratedly. "Moist, moist, moist, moist, moist-"

"Shut up, Charlie," Blaine cut him off.

"Speaking of moist," Charlie said, ignoring the glare from Michael and Blaine rolling his eyes, "I think Jeff and Nick are taking advantage of Wes and David being here. They probably won't get a lot of alone time now that they don't get to share a room."

"And who ended up with the room with only one bedside table?"

"Nick and Wes," Charlie responded, pulling his move chart out of Lorde-knows-where. "Wonder who gets the table?"

"Probably Nick because it's Wes' fault they don't have one."

"Neither of them really need one."

"Good news!" Wes said, interrupting their conversation. "Ryan wants us to provide music at halftime show to go along with the cheerleaders!"

"Only Wes would believe that not watching the cheerleaders is a good thing," David said with a grin as he sat back down, giving Michael a fist bump.

"Not funny, Dave," Wes said with a pout. David, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, proceeded to scare the crap out of the Head Warbler by pulling Wes onto his lap.

"Happy?"

"Yes," Wes said with a smile.

"Gross," Charlie complained.

"Charlie, you act like that with Lucas all the time."

"Yeah, but we're hotter than you," Charlie said with a smirk.

"_Oh_, no he didn't!" Blaine said with a grin, realizing an epic couple-war was about to begin, judging by the look on his face.

Before David could try to rip Charlie a new one, the announcer came on. "Welcome, welcome everyone, to the showdown of the season here at beautiful Dalton Academy in Westerville. Tonight in the semifinal round, the number one seated Dalton," there were screams and cheers from behind them on the bleachers as all the basketball players, including Chris, Thad, and Drew from AP Gov, came out in full uniform and carrying balls, beginning to throw and shoot them in intricate combinations, "the faces off against the number three seated La Salle High School..." The other team came out in scarlet and white, doing equally trick combinations.

"Should be a good match," Blaine said.

"This has to be the whitest basketball I've ever seen," David commented, looking over the teams.

"You're the only one who can comment on that, David."

"That's what happens when you play in the Ohio Greater Catholic League South," Blaine commented with an amused smile. "When I went to school in Columbus, there wasn't a single white kid on the basketball team."

"As it should be," David added with a grin.

"Isn't La Salle one of the top twenty schools in Ohio?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah, but despite being all boys, they're _extremely_ Catholic, and you can tell because Wevid over here is getting snotty looks from the other set of bleachers, and yes, I will refer to you as a joint object if you insist on acting like one," Charlie said quickly before David could comment.

"We could be playing Dayton Christian High School," Blaine commented. "Nondenominational, my butt-"

"Your _lovely_ butt," Charlie corrected him, but Blaine ignored the crazy boy.

"They're in the playoffs, I think."

"I don't think they're in our conference though, since they don't identify themselves as Catholic."

"They don't identify themselves as assholes either, but that doesn't mean they aren't," Michael added sourly. Clearly there was some hatred going on here that Kurt didn't understand. Maybe they were a Glee club Dalton faced off against often?

"When is this damn game going to actually start?" Charlie asked, stealing some more popcorn from Blaine. "Watching boys throw balls around isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

"No comment," Michael said immediately, which was the perfect way to stop everyone else from commenting. "Warm-ups should be over soon, Charlie."

"Why aren't there any mascots?" Kurt asked, and everyone shrugged.

"It's kind of a Catholic school thing. There are so few approved Catholic mascots things start to get repetitive, so most schools either don't have them, or have a really lame one, like the Saints."

"I still have trouble identifying Dalton as a Catholic school," Kurt said with a smirk at his friends.

"Well, you could always transfer to La Salle and see if they don't stone you," Charlie suggested.

"Not funny," Blaine said quietly, but Kurt could tell he was about to get angry at Charlie, and even the craziest person Kurt had ever met (_including_ Rachel) wasn't about to annoy Blaine.

"Oh, relax, Blainers, they would probably stone all five of us," he said, gesturing from Kurt all the way to Wevid (Kurt had to agree with Michael that they were acting like a joint entity). "And I could probably convince them to stone Charlie too."

* * *

><p>By the end of his first quarter with the Dalton boys, it was clear that Kurt knew absolutely nothing about basketball compared to his friends, and he definitely wasn't acquainted with enough high schools in Columbus to understand their conversation.<p>

He had compensated by stealing and eating all of Blaine's popcorn.

"What are we singing for the halftime show?" he finally asked Wes at the beginning of the second quarter, realizing there was nothing remotely basketball-related that he could talk about and keep up.

"I don't know. Someone has to go talk to the cheerleaders and find out what they're prepared to dance to," Wes said absentmindedly, still on David's lap but thoroughly absorbed in the game. "The probability is whatever they're prepared for will be upbeat and popish, and not be good for a cappella music at all."

"Says the one who chose _Hey, Soul Sister_ for Sectionals."

"That songs fits into the point where indie music meets pop, like every time Panic! At the Disco is in the top 100." Wes had a point. "Ouch!" he exclaimed suddenly, and Kurt turned towards the game. Blood was flying out of Drew's nose, and everyone in the bleachers behind them was yelling 'foul!'

"Oh, that's ridiculous!" Blaine exclaimed at whatever gesture the referee made as the whistle blew. "He probably broke Drew's damn nose!" Blaine seemed to have a point, judging by the fact someone with a red cross on their back was leading Drew off the court, blood pouring out of the player's nose, over the hand he was trying to stem the flow with, and down his arm.

"That's just dirty play right there!" Michael yelled at the court, but his objection was barely heard over what everyone else in the stands was yelling. The whistle was blown four more times before play resumed, and the other team shot two free throws. "What the _fuck_?" Michael said, but he at least muttered that under his breath.

"That was going to be my question," Kurt commented.

"Two fouls for 'unsportsmanlike conduct' on the fans," Blaine explained with a glare at the referee. "Which one of these rich bastards are paying these idiots off?"

"Probably the exact same thing the La Salle players were wondering during the first quarter," Charlie commented. "My best guess would be they got reamed out by the La Salle coach for favoring Dalton last quarter and are being complete dickheads as overcompensation."

"Doesn't make it any less annoying," Michael muttered darkly.

"Kurt and I are gonna go talk to the cheerleaders," Wes said, hoping off David's lap as the La Salle players sunk both of their free throws. "You _stay_," he said to his boyfriend as David tried to join them. "Honestly," he huffed as he grabbed Kurt's arm and dragged him in the same direction Ryan had taken the council earlier. "I love how these guys get so involved in basketball, but the testosterone in that row is getting ridiculous."

"Here I thought you were having just as much fun as they were," Kurt said dryly.

"Let's just go talk to pretty girls," Wes said with a glare.

Considering it was a basketball game between two all-boys school, the cheerleaders were pretty obvious, even in street clothes the way they were. Very few girlfriends were in the stands, so they were pretty much the only females.

"Hello, ladies, my name is Wesley, and I'm the Head Warbler."

"I'm well aware," one said, standing up. "_You're_ the guy who dumped my bestie in order to go be gay, so I'm going to talk to flamer over here."

"And bigotry survives in the Catholic school system," Wes said coldly, but the girl was pretending she didn't hear him.

"Hi, I'm Anna." The girl even _looked_ cold, though that could have been that she was being rude to one of the guys at Dalton he had come to care about. She had straight blonde hair the same color as Quinn's, icy blue eyes, and sneering seemed to be her natural facial expression.

"Kurt. What is your sad excuse for a squad capable of performing?" Two could play at the bitchy game.

"Excuse me?" she asked in shock, and bewildered was another look that seemed natural on her.

"You heard me, size two teenage dream," Kurt said icily. "I asked what your pathetic muscleless sticks could manage to shake what little ass they have to." Anna was staring at him in shock. It felt good to be queen bitch again, if only for a moment.

"_Cheers_ by-"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm not the blonde one, and I am well aware of your stereotypical song choice, which I'm sure perfectly describes what you spend every Friday night doing. If I wanted to look at your Saturday night, I suppose I would turn to _Skin_, or _What's My Name?_, or... really, she should just write a song called slut and dedicate it to you." Without another word, Kurt turned around and strutted off, dragging Wes with him and making sure the Head Warbler didn't look back.

"That was _awesome_," Wes said as soon as they got back in the gym, and the Dalton fans still seemed disgruntled as Wes and Kurt walked by.

"Wes, I was a cheerleader under the reign of Coach Sylvester. Nothing any blonde stick can say will throw me."

"Clearly." Wes gave Blaine a light punch in the shoulder as he walked by. "Now I see why you like him." Blaine just rolled his eyes and didn't respond, so used to the teasing.

"Watch your back, Hummel," David said, sounding mildly threatening, but he winked when Kurt looked over at him.

"You're making basketball gay again," Michael complained. "And there have already been two broken noses."

"Two?"

"You missed it," Michael replied to Wes' question. "In a _totally_ legal move, your roommate," he was looking at Kurt, "jumped up like he was trying to dunk and 'accidentally' slammed the guy who broke Drew's nose. It was _so_ cool."

"It's amazing what straight guys find cool," Charlie commented. Kurt had no idea where he had pulled a nail file from (since his pants had no pockets), but Charlie was leaning back against a stranger's legs and filing his nails, paying no attention to the game. The guy he was leaning against didn't seem too concerned about it though.

"And we pulled ahead," Blaine added. "I think we're going to crush La Salle purely because they've managed to piss off every guy on our team."

"I've got to admit: your roommate is hot all sweaty and testosteroned-up," Charlie said to Kurt with a wink.

"Boyfriend," Kurt reminded him again.

"Straight guy," Charlie retorted. "It doesn't matter what I say about straight guys."

"I'm sure that's exactly how the straight guys feel," Michael commented.

"Shut up, sweet ass."

"Did he just call me-"

"Yep. Get used to it. You poked the tiger." Blaine rolled his eyes at his best friend. "So, is it decided what we'll be singing in about..." Blaine looked over at the scoreboard, "four minutes?"

"The cheerleaders want to do Rihanna's _Cheers_, and I had already insulted her enough without arguing with her-"

"Why?"

"She's a friend of Alison's, and she was being a bitch to Wes."

"Ah. Continue."

"I'm not sure how we're going to pull that off," Wes added from Kurt's other side. "I'm listening to the song, and I can't think of a single arrangement. This song is too... loose and fluid to be pined down by such a specific arrangement as ours would be."

"So why don't you just have someone sing it?" Michael asked, and they all turned to look at him. "What? If you can't sing it as a group, just pick someone and give them the microphone."

"Michael, remember to present everything to Wes as if it's his own idea," David said from where he had pulled Wes back onto his lap.

"Shut up," Wes replied to David. "That's actually a pretty good idea," he said to Michael. "Would you do the honors?" he asked Blaine.

"Sure, why not?" Blaine couldn't resist the spotlight, and he would never say 'no' to a performance. He was scarily similar to the woman he made out with last night.

And now Kurt's mind was back on that. Gross.

* * *

><p>When the buzzer sounded to end the second quarter, Dalton was ahead 66-52, and the Dalton fans were practically drunk on testosterone. There were <em>way<em> too many guys in this gym, and way too few females. "Everyone give a big round of applause to the Crawford Country Day cheerleaders!" The guys were definitely cheering as the pretty girls came out, but Kurt couldn't take his eyes off the rampant bitch Anna who had a C sewed to her uniform. Of course she was the captain. Cheerleaders always flocked to the rudest people on the planet. The girls got in formation, and Kurt wasn't exactly sure where Blaine was, but it didn't really matter. No one in the stands really wanted to see him.

_One, two  
><em>_We're takin' shots around here, you want one?_

_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
>Y<em>_eah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

_Cheers to the flippin' weekend  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Oh, let the Jameson sink in  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah_

Kurt had to begrudgingly admit that the CCD cheerleaders actually had talent, though he had been correct earlier in saying the girls had no muscles. They didn't. They were poles. But they were _strong_ poles, with great acrobatics, and Blaine saying _flippin' _only helped them out as they did round-off back tucks to the line.

_Don't let the bastards get you down  
><em>_Turn it around with another round  
><em>_There's a party at the bar  
><em>_Everybody putcha glasses up_

_And I drink to that  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

_Life's too short to be sittin' 'round miserable  
><em>_People gon' talk whether you doing bad or good, yeah  
><em>_Got a drink on my mind and my mind on my money, yeah  
><em>_Looking so bomb, gonna find me a honey, yeah_

_Go my Ray Bans on and I'm feelin' hella cool tonight, yeah  
><em>_Everybody's vibin' so don't nobody start a fight, yeah_

_Cheers to the flippin' weekend  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Oh, let the Jameson sink in  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah_

_Don't let the bastards get you down  
><em>_Turn it around with another round  
><em>_There's a party at the bar  
><em>_Everybody putcha glasses up_

_And I drink to that  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

'_Bout to hop on the bar, put it all on my card tonight, yeah  
><em>_Might be mad in the morning, but you know we goin' hard tonight  
><em>_It's getting Coyote Ugly up in here, no Tyra  
><em>_It's only up from here, no downward spiral_

Already their routine was starting to get repetitive, and Kurt was mentally listing all of the things Coach Sylvester would be chewing them out for until the end of time, but when Coyote Ugly was mentioned, Anna and the girl with A sewed to her top starting pulling moves right out of the _Devil Went Down to Georgia_ scene that even made Kurt a little impressed.

_Go my Ray Bans on and I'm feelin' hella cool tonight, yeah  
><em>_Everybody's vibin' so don't nobody start a fight, yeah_

_Cheers to the flippin' weekend  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Oh, let the Jameson sink in  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah_

_Don't let the bastards get you down  
><em>_Turn it around with another round  
><em>_There's a party at the bar  
><em>_Everybody putcha glasses up_

_And I drink to that  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

_(And I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

_Cheers to the flippin' weekend  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Oh, let the Jameson sink in  
><em>_I drink to that, yeah-e-yeah_

When Blaine's voice quieted so that the audience could sing with him the way it did in Rihanna's version of the song, the boys on the bleachers eagerly rose to the challenge, and the rest of the song was Blaine's powerful voice on the microphone fighting to be heard over the eager basketball fans' shouting.

_Don't let the bastards get you down  
><em>_Turn it around with another round  
><em>_There's a party at the bar  
><em>_Everybody putcha glasses up_

_And I drink to that  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

_(And I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_(I drink to that)  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah  
><em>_Yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah, yeah-e-yeah_

Since there were still five more minutes of half time, _Talk That Talk_ began playing, without the aid of Blaine's smooth voice this time, and about thirty seconds into their second number, Blaine sat back down next to Kurt. "Well, that was fun. They're good."

"They're okay," Kurt corrected.

"Snob."

"Connoisseur," Kurt corrected again. "Where were you?"

"The sound booth. Headmaster Ryan figured only a small ratio of these guys were here to see me, and they would be too testosteroned-up to care."

"It is pretty macho in here," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

"And sweaty," Chris agreed as he approached them. "Thanks for coming, dude."

"No problem. Just don't-" Chris grabbed Kurt in a hug, pulling him off the bleacher. "The rest of that sentence was going to be 'hug me,' but that's clearly a moot point now," Kurt said once Chris released him.

"We're _so_ gonna kick some La Salle ass next half."

"That's what I wanna hear," Blaine said, offering Chris a fist bump, which he accepted.

"Dude, are you staying for the whole game?" Chris asked at a much lower tone.

"I was planning to. Why do you ask?"

"There's kind of a hazing thing that happens at the end of basketball games that I'm sure they've all been avoiding telling you about. Maybe you and Blaine should skedaddle. Spend some alone time together." Chris was getting frighteningly good at waggling his eyebrows. Maybe he had been taking lessons from Charlie.

"And you would be okay with that?"

Chris grinned. "Dude, I know you came to support me, but I also know sitting here is killing you, and it's only going to get worse. Shoo." Kurt gave Chris another quick hug (he was already soaked with sweat, how much worse could it get?).

"He warned you, didn't he?" Blaine asked once Chris was out of earshot.

"I think I'm up for that popcorn and Scrubs marathon now."

* * *

><p>"It's so nice that you don't have a roommate," Kurt said as he relaxed on the unoccupied bed in Blaine's room that had often been his.<p>

"Make me worry about my sanity a little," Blaine admitted. "The only other person crazy enough to scare off all of their roommates is Charlie."

"Now I'm kind of worried about your sanity," Kurt teased. Blaine responded by grabbing the popcorn they had made in one of the lounges with a microwave and his laptop, and hoping onto the usually unoccupied bed with Kurt. "Feeling lonely?" Kurt asked as he tried to ignore his heartbeat speeding up.

"I don't have my HDMI cable, so we can just watch on Netflix... unless you don't want to snuggle with me," Blaine teased, and Kurt rolled his eyes. They had apparently reached the point in their awkward relationship where they were both pretending Kurt's feelings didn't exist. It was kind of nice.

"Start it up." Blaine opened up his laptop to My Happy Place. "We're starting in Season 8?"

"Might as well. I have the other seven memorized."

"As long as we don't watch the horrific Season 9."

"Lorde no."

"I love the Todd," Blaine said with a laugh. "He's so metrosexual."

"Or closeted."

"Metrosexual."

"Closeted."

"Metrosexual."

"Closeted." It was a classic argument, but Kurt was more stubborn, and Blaine let it go.

"That's her Stella hairstyle."

"I know. I always manage to confuse her characters, but I think it's because I love Elliott and Stella both so much."

"How can you love Stella?"

"I guess I think it's easy to fall in love with the wrong person," was all Blaine said. "Right, baby?"

"Don't do that," Kurt said along with Dr. Cox.

"Who is Norm? He's made that joke twice, and I still don't get it."

"Google?"

"_Cheers_ reference, I think," Blaine said after some quick Googling.

"_Bo-wow_," they both said as Elliott left the coffee shop.

They laughed and joked through the first eleven minutes of the show, both unwilling to admit that they had also memorized the eighth season of Scrubs by now, until Dr. Kelso told Elliott and J.D. that it was nice to see them dating again. Then it got very awkward, very quickly.

"I've always thought that's so sad," Blaine said slowly, turning down the volume on the computer but not pausing the show as J.D. and Elliott tried to reconcile their feelings again. "I mean, they have so much history, and they obviously have feelings for each other, and everyone else sees it, but they don't."

Kurt didn't say, 'exactly like us,' even though he really wanted to. "It is. All you can hope for is that someday they'll both knock it off, realize how easy and how perfect what they have together is, and that it won't be too late for them."

"Thankfully, they do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And... done! Eleven thousand words to partially make up for the fact that it's been **_**way**_** too long since I've posted this story and this chapter was really hard to write. More soon, I promise, and I hope everyone's enjoying Season 5!**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Cotton-Eye Joe_' by Rednex (mentioned)  
>'<em>Bye, Bye, Bye<em>' by N'Sync (mentioned)  
>'<em>Barbie Girl<em>' by Aqua (mentioned)  
>'<em>Hey Soul Sister<em>' by Train in the style of gLee (mentioned)  
>'<em>Skin<em>' by Rihanna (mentioned)  
>'<em>What's My Name?<em>' by Rihanna feat. Drake (mentioned)  
>'<em>Cheers (I Drink to That)<em>' by Rihanna  
>'<em>Devil Went Down to Georgia<em>' by the Charlie Daniels Band (mentioned)  
>'<em>Talk That Talk<em>' by Rihanna feat. Jay-Z

**Also, if anyone doesn't know what 'Charlie bit me' refers to, **_**please**_** YouTube it for your own amusement.**

**Also also, I don't really know anything about high schools in Ohio, so I just made up prejudices, because hatred of other schools and love of your own is what happens at sporting events.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	34. A Couple War

"I'm so hard-up, I actually had a sex dream last night about my own boyfriend!" was Charlie's opening comment at breakfast on Sunday.

"Who do you norm... actually, I really don't want to know," Blaine almost asked, but he unfortunately decided just a little too late to avoid hearing the answer.

"All of _your_ boyfriends!" he said, pointing around the couple filled table. There was Wes and David, Jeff and Nick, and Blaine and Kurt (not that he and Kurt were a couple, but in Charlie's disturbing mind, they were close enough).

"Charlie, that's disgusting," Nick muttered, but Charlie didn't seem to care.

"When is Lucas getting here today?" Jeff asked, not seeming bothered at all by Charlie's comment.

"Not until noon," Charlie groaned dramatically. "He had... cheerleading something."

"I'm almost terrified to ask what it possibly could have been, since the Cheerios lost Regionals."

"I don't think a loss has ever deterred that crazy bitch," Charlie muttered.

"Last week she tried to overdose with gummy vitamins in a melodramatic cry for help," Kurt informed Charlie, who just shrugged.

"Does that mean we have to listen to you whine for another four hours?" Wes snapped at Charlie as he stood up to dump his tray. David, surprisingly, didn't follow him.

"What's up his craw? David," Charlie began teasingly, "did you leave something up there last night?"

"He had to go talk to Alison yesterday," David said. "From what I've heard in the bits and pieces of mumbling under Wes' breath, it didn't exactly go well. She was really angry. She told Wes that she loved him, and that he broke her heart, and that he would never find a guy who could give him what she could, and that he had just 'decided' to go gay because he's scared to be in a real relationship. Apparently, she found out about the whole Two Weeker thing. It was really rough."

"Still haven't answered my question," Charlie muttered, but he sounded a touch remorseful.

"He feels really guilty about breaking up with her," David added, ignoring Charlie, "and I think talking to her made it worse rather than better."

"Is he all right?" Blaine asked, looking over towards the trash station, but they couldn't see Wes.

"Yeah, I think so. You know him, he'll snap out of this the moment he gets his hands on a gavel and starts to feel like himself again. Despite all the relationships he's been in, and all the crap we've gone through, he's not actually good at breaking peoples' hearts. I don't think he realizes that he's actually done so before." David didn't elaborate, and Blaine didn't ask. At this point, he was just happy Wes and David were together and not fighting too much. He didn't need to know all the backstory. David sighed. "I'll go fetch him."

After David left the table, it was awkwardly quiet. Jeff and Nick seemed to be having a silent conversation, Kurt was picking at his fingernails and seemed barely conscious (despite how early he woke up, he wasn't actually a morning person), and it was too early for most of the Warblers to be conscious at all, especially on a Sunday.

"A penny for your thoughts," Kurt said with a little smile, and apparently _Blaine_ was being the quiet one. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Blaine answered, wondering why Kurt thought he was upset. "Just thinking about Regionals."

"I can't believe they're so soon," Kurt agreed, but he didn't sound as excited as most Warblers would, and Blaine knew exactly why. However, it was Sunday morning and things were going relatively well at Dalton for the moment, so Blaine didn't try to cheer Kurt up. Not that cheering Kurt up was a bad thing, but he didn't want to get Kurt talking and debating about it.

"Hey, roomie," Chris said as he sat down in one of the spots vacated by Wes and David. "How's it going?"

"I would answer 'fine,' but I know you only ask that question when you want someone to reciprocate, so I will instead ask, how are you, Chris?"

"Awesome," Chris said with a grin. "I spent the night with Chrissy after the basketball game, and-"

"Oh, let me guess!" Charlie butted into the conversation. "Er-_eh_, er-_eh_, er-_eh_, er-_eh, _er-"

"Yes, Charlie, we get your point," Blaine interrupted him.

"Dude, that's my girlfriend you're talking about!" Chris objected, but it was half-hearted.

"But, yeah, right?"

"Pretty much," Chris said with a grin. This earned him several pats on the back and high fives, and Blaine pretended not to notice Kurt rolling his eyes as the tenor gave Chris a pat on the back himself. He really liked Chrissy. "We've got to be the best couple at Dalton," Chris said, and Blaine groaned. "Problem?" Chris asked him.

"You did this to you," was all Blaine said to the poor bastard before he sat back and watched it unfold.

"Really?" Jeff was the one who started it. "You think you and Chrissy, who have only been dating for a few weeks and spent the majority of that fighting about nothing, are a better couple than us?" he asked, gesturing between himself and the man whose lap he was sitting on with some difficulty.

"You've been in the closet for years," Chris said slowly, as if he didn't really want to address the comment.

"We were still a better couple than you guys, even in the closet."

"If we're getting awards for how long we've been in the closet and still made a good couple, we so win," David interjected as he and Wes sat back down, Wes looking considerably more cheery, if a little ruffled.

"Yeah, but you two had the fight to end all fights," Nick pointed out finally sucked in.

"I thrive on chaos," Charlie commented casually, rubbing his hands together like a villain in a terrible melodrama. "Besides, you're all wrong."

"You seriously think you and Lucas are the best couple?" Chris asked. "You just like hitting that."

"Yes, I do, but I also love him, in case you forgot," Charlie added helpfully. "And we're the only gay couple that hasn't visited the closet, and we've been together longer than Chris and Chrissy. Duh."

"Guys, I hate to get involved in this, I really do," Blaine spoke up in the hopes of ending the feud, "but how long you've been together and how long you spent in the closet doesn't actually define a relationship."

"I would say, 'Wesley, I think we need a supreme ruling here,' but you're _far_ too biased. So, I think we need to collect the Warblers." Charlie was grinning again

"What the hell is going on?" Kurt asked Blaine, but the tenor just shook his head. Charlie would declare it soon enough.

"We're going to have a Couple War."

* * *

><p>"The rules of a Couple War are simple," Wes said as soon as the Warblers had assembled in the Stevenson common room at around eleven, many looking like they had just been forcibly dragged out of their bed… or someone else's bed. "Everyone submits three nominations for who they believe the best couple should be. The top five couples will either be brought forward or represented by one member at the front, and the audience will vote which couple they like most for each category." Wes didn't bother to explain the categories.<p>

"Since I'm sure Wes and I will end up as one of the couples," David said as Wes glared at the assembled singers to stress his boyfriend's point, "Thad will be conducting this occasion."

"Oh, joy of joys," Thad said dryly from where he was seated at the table near Blaine and Kurt. Wes and David passed out paper and little pencils, and Wes sent Thad to collect them with a glare. Thad picked a few Warblers (Michael, Kendrick, and Trent) to be election talliers, and after a few minutes they handed Thad a sheet of paper.

"I hate you so much for this," Thad said audibly to Wes before taking the paper. "And the nominees are…" For someone who was complaining about running the show, Thad had a fairly decent game show host voice, "Wes and David," the couple came up to the front grinning and sat down in the middle two chairs of the ten arranged in a semi-circle beside Thad, "Jeff and Nick," that couple sat to Wes and David's right, "Charlie and Lucas," doubtlessly pouting that Lucas wasn't there to fill the seat next to him, Charlie sulked on the left end, "Chris and Christine," since Christine couldn't be at Dalton all the time, she hadn't joined them for the Couple War (she probably thought it was stupid and Blaine really couldn't blame her), so Chris took a solitary seat next to Jeff and Nick, "and Blaine and Kurt."

"Objection!" Wes said immediately. "They're not a couple!"

"Close enough," Charlie muttered from where he was sulking.

"Agreed," Thad said, and Blaine rolled his eyes, but went up and took a seat to the left of Wes and David. Kurt, after some coercing from the Warblers around him, sat next to Blaine.

"I can't believe they would do this to us," he hissed to the tenor.

"Then you clearly haven't been here long enough."

"I can't believe you guys actually found a podium on short notice," Kurt commented, looking to the left, towards Thad and the beautiful Dalton Academy Warblers podium Wes had rustled up from somewhere.

"_That_ surprises me," Blaine agreed.

"No whispering among the contenders," Thad said sternly. "For the sake of efficiency, and the fact that it amuses me, I will be referring to each couple or representative by their popular couple name. From left to right, Charcas, Klaine, Wevid, Neff, and Chrisine."

"I object-" Chris started to say.

"I don't care," Thad cut him off. "As a Couple War is a mixture of democracy and the Newlywed Game, I'm going to ask some questions, never the same question to two different couples, and then the audience will vote which couple is best in twenty-two categories. The overall winner of both the questions and the votes will be the best couple of 2011. Let's play." Thad whipped some question cards out of God-knows-where, and turned to the couples. "The first question is for-"

"Wait a second," Charlie interrupted him without remorse. "How are the couples that don't have both people supposed to answer the questions?" It was a good flaw in Thad's logic.

"Do you seriously think I haven't rounded up your partners?" Thad asked quietly enough that most of the Warblers probably couldn't hear him. "You're ruining my grand reveal." Thad then cleared his throat and amped up the volume. "Please welcome to the stage, Lucas Montressor and Christine Last-Name-Omitted, both of whom have been informed of the rules!"

Charlie's face lit up when he saw Lucas and he was out of his chair in a second, grabbing his boyfriend and kissing him so fiercely the rest of the room quickly became uncomfortable. Chris, the sane one, just asked Thad if he really didn't know Christine's last name and then gave her a quick kiss when she sat down next to him.

"Break it up, break it up, jeesh," Thad complained, pushing Charlie and Lucas into separate chairs. "Let the game begin! The first question is for," he began again, but Charlie didn't interrupt him this time, "Wevid. How many boyfriends or girlfriends did your partner have before or during your relationship?" Thad had obviously tailored that question for the couple, handing them both whiteboards to answer it on.

"Thad, do you seriously think I can count that high?" David asked to laughter. Nevertheless, he scribbled down some answer for himself and for Wes.

"Grand reveal," Thad said. "All right, Wes' answer of seven is spot on while David's answer of 30ish is _not_ close enough to 22 to count. Sorry. You receive one out of two points."

"22?" Blaine asked Wes, who nodded. "You can't say that name isn't rightfully earned anymore," he muttered, making Wes laugh.

"At this point, I couldn't care less about the nickname. I really couldn't." Wes' look at David was almost scary in how utterly adoring it was. All the love in the world was in Wes' eyes, and it was making Blaine just a little uncomfortable, but mostly he was happy for the two of them.

"All right, the next one is for Charcas. Who is the safer driver?"

"Can I answer this one?" Kurt muttered to Blaine. Sure enough, both of them answered 'Lucas' and got two out of two points with no argument.

"Next question is for Klaine. What's your song?" Charlie and Lucas passed them the whiteboards. This was probably the most evil and most embarrassing thing the Warblers had done to Blaine and Kurt yet, and Blaine could see the blush rising to Kurt's cheeks as he scribbled something down.

"Blaine, stop cheating," Jeff objected.

"Either that or he's staring at his man," Lucas added with a grin, which earned him several wolf-whistles from the audience and a kiss from Charlie.

"Why?" Kurt demanded of Lucas. "Just why?"

"Might as well join in on the madness," Lucas replied with a shrug. "I think I'm going to be around for a while." Lucas smiled at Charlie, but he was sulking again. Weird.

"All right. Grand reveal."

Blaine wasn't sure what was going to be worse: them getting it right or them getting it wrong. When Kurt turned around his board and they both had the same answer, _Teenage Dream_, Blaine knew getting it right was definitely worse. "Aw," Charlie said from the end with a grin, as the rest of the audience did, then he started humming the chorus. Bastard.

"What a cute couple," someone in the audience Blaine couldn't quite pinpoint to glare at added.

"Two out of two points," Thad announced, apparently the only one in the room who wasn't going to make fun of them and thankfully the only one with a microphone, "lovebugs." So much for that. Blaine rolled his eyes; Kurt was oddly quiet. "Next question is for Neff: Who would you say has the better parents?" Thad probably had no idea how easy that question was for that particular couple, and they both came up with the answer of Jeff's parents.

The question for Chrisine was a little harder: "How would you rate your partner's morning breath?" They each had to answer for the other and rate their _own_ morning breath. Christine's board rated hers as a 4 (1 being nonexistent and 10 being noxious), as did Chris', but Christine rated Chris' morning breath as an 8, while he only rated his as a six.

"Ouch," Thad commented as Chris glared at his girlfriend. "That one's gotta hurt."

"I have to corroborate on that answer," Kurt added audibly, making Blaine laugh. "He really does have terrible rooming breath."

"Thanks, roomie," Chris muttered bitterly.

"I think a terrible decision was made when this question was assigned to Charcas," Thad began the next round with that comment, "but what is a surefire way to put your partner in the mood? Please use only G-rated phrases." Charlie pouted.

Wes actually fell out of his chair laughing when for Charlie's answer, both boards answered Lucas simply walking into the room. Charlie just shrugged, unashamed of exactly how true that statement was. However, Charlie's answer was deemed too vulgar (even though, judging by the way Lucas was blushing, it was probably true), and they only got one point.

"Neff," Thad returned to them, seemingly going in no particular order, "white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, or jelly beans?"

"_What_?" Jeff asked kind of indignantly. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"The kind you need to answer before I call time on you," Thad replied coolly.

Jeff's revealed answer was dark chocolate, while Nick had guessed milk chocolate, obviously never having considered Jeff's preference before. "Watch your back, Wes," Charlie commented with a whistle. Jeff blushed, Nick rolled his eyes, and Wes glared at Charlie so fiercely it was semi-surprising the pervert didn't go up in flames. Lucas just took Charlie's hand with a little smile. Nick's answer was white chocolate, while Jeff had guessed 'jelly beans, thanks to his President-crush on Ronald Reagan,' which sparked a whispered debate between the couple.

"All right, Klaine, you're in an advantageous position-"

"I hope you're super aware of the fact that we're not trying to win. Not even a little bit," Blaine interrupted, but Thad just ignored him with the grace that accompanied being crazy (and everyone at Dalton was truly, thoroughly crazy).

"Klaine, your question is: What is your partner's best physical trait?" Kurt blushed immediately, and Blaine groaned as the other couples snickered.

"Oh, come _on_, Thad, that's not even funny."

"Rules are rules, Blaine, and you'll be penalized if you don't answer."

"Hopefully it's disqualification," Blaine muttered, but he stared down at his blank board anyway. He had no idea what Kurt would consider his best physical feature, and he knew what he considered Kurt's best physical feature, but… how the hell was he supposed to answer this without making everything a hundred times more awkward than it had been over the past few weeks? Things had finally gotten back to normal.

When Thad finally made them turn their boards around, both of them obviously having the same mental freak-out (judging by Kurt's darkening blush), Blaine was surprised that they had both agreed on Kurt (his eyes, definitely), and Kurt's answer made _him_ blush.

"Kurt, I have never loved you more than I do in this morning," Charlie declared, cackling with glee and clearly having given up his skulking.

"Kurt Hummel! I am shocked at you!" Chrissy joked, and a few people in the audience wolf-whistled.

Blaine almost couldn't believe his eyes. Had Kurt seriously written that?

Yep, it was right before his eyes, written in black marker with Kurt's neat handwriting: _**his ass**_.

"I have to say only one point, but I really wish I could give you guys both," Thad said, obviously biting the inside of his cheek pretty hard to keep from laughing. "Since Klaine has apparently deiced to be as vulgar as Charcas, the next question is for Wevid. What is your partner's favorite junk food indulgence?"

For two people that had been together for as long as Wes and David, it was an easy question, and Wes got a point for his correct answer (no bake cookies) and David got one for his (chocolate covered pretzels).

"All right, Chrisine: What is your partner's favorite restaurant… and what is it's phone number?" That was just mean, since nobody memorized phone numbers due to smart phones, but it _was_ awfully funny to watch Chris' face crease in confusion as he tried to think.

Charlie and Lucas were probably the winners of the question round (even though they got the exact same number of points as Kurt and Blaine). Lucas had gotten a bunch of 'aw's by correctly choosing a song to dedicate to Charlie. Thad had needed to add the phrase 'G-rated' to the question what one word would you use to describe your partner? Charlie had chosen kind, and Lucas had chosen crazy, both of them getting it right, and it had been established that they both believed in second chances, something they had known. They ended up with eight points.

Wes and David had both remembered when their first date started and ended (Thad allowed them to first discuss what actually qualified as their first date), and had vehemently refused to answer the question 'what is your _private_ nickname for your partner?' (David seemed less concerned, but Wes had obviously vetoed it). Wes got right how many kids David wanted to have, but David had underestimated, earning himself a roll of his eyes from his boyfriend. They ended up with six points.

Nick and Jeff were easily able to pick out each other's favorite movies, and had disagreed on who controlled the TV remote. However, they got the _next_ biggest round of 'aw's (after Lucas) when they had immediately agreed on a first dance song, and the fact that it was Jeff's preference, but Nick loved it because he did. It was adorable, and they ended up tied with Wevid with six points.

Chris had been able to come up with the name of Christine's favorite restaurant _and_ the number (which was impressive), but Christine hadn't been able to hold up her end of the bargain. They had agreed on who apologizes first, but argued over what they dislike about one another's habits, and had refused to answer the question 'they say that the best way to know if a person is good in bed is to find out if they dance really well. So, who dances better?' which only caused more catcalls than an answer either way ever could have. They ended up with four points, which was embarrassing, considering Lucas had started the whole thing.

Since Thad didn't neglect Blaine and Kurt in his reign of torture, they agreed that Blaine was the better cook, Blaine had picked out the one thing Kurt would change about him (the bow ties), but Kurt said that Blaine would say he would change nothing about Kurt… which led to several moments of awkward silence when Blaine admitted that he would change Kurt's snark. The most awkward moment by far was when they both agreed on their favorite name for a baby girl (Victoria). They tied with Charcas at eight points.

"And now, we move on to the democratic part of the proceedings. You have all been given papers with following twenty-two categories: chemistry/attraction; balance; respect; compromise; making time for each other; self-improvement due to the relationship; vulnerability; laughter/making each other happy; au natural, no, not the amount of time they spend naked around each other, because we all know Charcas would win that, but rather who acts the most naturally around their significant other and vice versa; family and friends, i.e. having separate groups of friends, as well as mutual friends, plus being familiar with and liked by each others' family and friends; acceptance of quirks; equality/give and take; non-clingy-ness; most things in common; fidelity and lack of jealousy; sweetness/affection; opposites attract, i.e. who are the closest to opposites?; communication; friendship; sexual intimacy; yes those last two are dead giveaways; lack of: criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling; and reliability. You all have five minutes to choose your favorite couple for each category, and I will read the tally aloud at the end of the counting, done by the unfortunate freshman. Each category is a point, the couple with the most points from the Couple Games and count wins." Thad was clearly getting into the game show mode, reading the categories so fast it was almost like listening to an auctioneer, and also doing it completely from memory (which was impressive).

Thad forbid the couples from talking ('strategizing' he called it during the five minute break), so Blaine just looked up at the ceiling and prayed they didn't win. They would never hear the end of it if they won.

Thad rang a gong at the end of the five minutes (apparently they had been able to find a gong on short notice too), and the counting was relatively quick, with few categories being close.

"And now… the results!" Thad said, and he was obviously having fun at this point. "Chemistry/Attraction… _Klaine_, with Charcas as a close second." Blaine resisted the urge to groan. "Balance… Charcas. Respect… Neff. Compromise… Wevid. Making Time… Klaine. Self-Improvement… Charcas, duh. Vulnerability… _Charcas_, that's a surprise. Laugher/Make Each Other Happy… Klaine. Au Natural… Neff, with Wevid as a close second. Note: Chrisine has yet to win anything, so many Chris won't make a habit out of challenging these idiots to twisted games. Family and Friends… Klaine. Acceptance… Charcas, not a shock, because anyone dating Charlie has a _lot_ to accept. Equality/Give and Take… Wevid. Non-clingy-ness… _Chrisine_, I stand corrected. Things in common… Chrisine. Fidelity and lack of jealous… _Wevid_, really? I don't think you people know what fidelity means! Though lack of jealousy is uncannily accurate. Sweetness/Affection… _Klaine_, aw."

"Fuck," Blaine muttered, and when Kurt looked over at him, he explained, "We're going to win this." Kurt looked suitably horrified at the news.

"Opposites Attracts… Charcas, interesting. Communication… Klaine. Friendship… _Klaine_, duh. Sexual Intimacy… Charcas _unanimously_. Lack of criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling… _Chrisine_, interesting. Last, but not least, reliability… Neff." Thad threw away the results with a flourish. "And now for the final tally. Mason?" he asked his little brother.

"In last place, with seven points, Chrisine. Tied for third, both with nine points, Wevid and Neff. In second place, with fourteen points, Charas. And the winner by _one_ point, with fifteen points, _Klaine_!" There was confetti and cheering and Kurt was groaning into his hands, because he knew exactly the kind of torment this meant.

"Now _I'm_ starting to regret declaring them 'close enough' to a couple," Charlie complained, but Lucas kissed him and said something that made him smile, taking Charlie's hand and leading him out of the room. Thus ended, Blaine was sure, Charlie's brief dry spell.

Chris seemed suitably embarrassed, but Christine offered to go to his newly-revealed favorite restaurant for lunch as consolation. Wes and David seemed grumpy, Nick and Jeff didn't really seem to care, and most of the other Warblers were just eager to eat lunch.

"Remember we have Warblers practice tomorrow!" he yelled as his minions exited the room.

* * *

><p>Charlie and Lucas eventually arrived downstairs for lunch, significantly after everyone else. "Feel better, Charlie?" Jeff asked him by way of greeting, and Charlie grinned.<p>

"Definitely." Lucas didn't even roll his eyes, just kissing his boyfriend on the cheek as he went up to get food, Charlie getting through the line magically fast as usual. "Sex is just a wonderful relaxant; it's the reason virgins are so uptight all the time," Charlie added, casually slinging an arm around Kurt. "Speaking of uptight, wait until you two see the banner Wes had made."

"What banner?" Blaine asked immediately, but Charlie didn't answer.

"What's going on with you guys?" he asked casually, purposefully not answering or acknowledging Blaine's question. He was excellent at driving people crazy by ignoring them. It was one of the ways he used to get guys into bed.

"Charlie, we saw you an hour ago. The only news is now we don't have to fear a light breeze hitting you in public," Blaine replied dryly, trying to ignore that his question was ignored.

"I think you should always be worried about that," Lucas said, sitting down with a full plate of food and obviously having been told the magic secret to getting through the lunch line in a timely fashion. Not that lunch on a Sunday was terribly busy.

"So, how are the New Directions?" Kurt asked.

"Still wildly hung over from that party Rachel held. Santana and Brittany ditched a Cheerios meeting because Santana can't be around hairspray and Brittany… well, you know how she gets lost without Santana." Charlie was pouting again, for some reason, and when Blaine bumped his shoulder to silently get his attention, he was ignored.

"Did the news about the party spread _that _fast?" Kurt asked, obviously surprised.

"It's not ever day a _Glee_ party out-cools everything else on a Friday night. Plus, I heard I'm in the presence of two Dalton attendees. How was it?"

"It was a party thrown by Rachel Barbra Berry. Before the booze, it was terrible."

"Yeah, well, the booze was the legendary part," Lucas dismissed Kurt's comment.

"Okay, _what_ is your problem?" Charlie demanded suddenly of his boyfriend, ignoring Blaine's attempt to calm him down from his sudden rage completely, standing up from the lunch table. "He's all you can talk about!" Charlie jerked a not particularly complimentary finger towards Kurt, who looked shell shocked.

"Charlie, I'm not talking _about_ him, I'm talking _to_ him," Lucas said very calmly as he tried to pull Charlie back into his seat. Charlie jerked his arm away.

"You should be talking to _me_," Charlie insisted.

"Ten bucks Charlie's finally lost it," Jeff murmured to his boyfriend, who ignored him.

"Charlie, it's not like we're excluding you from the conversation," Lucas said, managing to stay perfectly calm in a way most people never could.

"You're talking about people I don't know," Charlie said, and Lucas' calm approach wasn't exactly working, judging by Charlie's tone.

"Fine. What would _you_ like to talk about, sweetie?" Lucas was starting to sound a little bit annoyed. His patience couldn't be entirely endless, and Blaine definitely knew how trying Charlie could be.

"I would like to talk about how you're an _idiot_ who can't see what he _has_!" Charlie yelled, still being very unreasonable.

"Charlie…" Kurt tried to intervene, clearly having the worst idea in the history of ever.

"You shut up, I've had enough of you two. You as stupid as he is. What is wrong with _everyone _in this _school_?" Charlie yelled, storming out of the cafeteria in a manner that would have made Rachel proud.

"Am I the only one who has no idea what that was about?" Lucas asked, and everyone shook their heads. "Oh, good."

"Relax. I'm sure he just forgot to take his crazy pills this morning," Jeff joked as a comfort, and then they went back to lunch, Lucas occasionally glancing up in the hopes that Charlie would come back.

* * *

><p>"I call this meeting of the Dalton Academy Warblers to order!" Wes announced, banging his gavel as a few unfortunate stragglers trickled in, suffering under the death glare from Wes, very much in Head Warbler mode. "With Regionals in a few short weeks, it is time to start discussing numbers for the competition. As always, we have our shortlist of suggested numbers, but we would like to continue our successful trend of singing popular music. Does anyone have suggestions from the Hot 100?" When Wes was talking about popular music, Kurt had learned, he meant it incredibly literally, going by the actual charts rather than just 'what people are listening to.' "And the first person who suggests <em>Black and Yellow<em> or _S&M_ will also win the honor of being the first person kicked out of the Warblers under my tenure. Suggestions?"

Everyone immediately whipped out copies of the last three to four Hot 100's, obviously prepared for Wes' craziness, and Blaine scooted closer to Kurt, their thighs and shoulders touching, so Kurt could look on with him. "What about _Firework_? or _Teenage Dream_? or _E.T_.? All of which were on this weeks Hot 100?"

"We performed _Teenage Dream_, Blaine, in case you forgot."

"And _E.T._ is inappropriate," David added.

"Not the radio version! The album version," Blaine corrected, soudnign rather offended.

"Blaine and his Katy," Nick said with a grin.

"I'm beginning to wonder if she's the only woman in existence he would have sex with, just to see what she sounded like during," Charlie added.

"Enough, boys," Wes said, banging his gavel firmly.

"We could do _Coming Home_? It's probably the most liked song on the list," Nick suggested, done mocking Kurt.

"The problem is Skylar Grey," David pointed out.

"We don't have a girl, but we have Kurt," Nick argued. "He could sing that part easily."

"Noted," Wes said before David could argue again.

"_Jar of Hearts_?"

"Too negative. Choirs that sing happy songs, even happy ballads, tend to win."

"I can't even _think_ of a happy ballad."

"_Hey There Delilah_," Wes said after some consideration.

"_Grenade_?"

"Possibly the most hated song on the list?"

"_Secrets_?"

"Too indie."

"Wesy, you're being a little argumentative," David said softly, just loud enough that the people sitting near the front could hear him, and Wes sighed.

"Other suggestions?"

"_Rhythm of Love_."

"Noted."

"_Raise Your Glass_," Bliane suggested.

"P!nk?" David said doubtfully.

"She's no Katy Perry, but she's upbeat and provocative and all the swears she uses can be removed."

"Noted," Wes said with satisfaction.

"_Dynamite_."

"Too difficult to arrange… and _don't_ start trying," Wes said as soon as the first note rang out.

"_Little Lion Man_," Kendrick suggested.

"_Just the Way You Are_," Michael said at the same time.

"_Little Lion Man/Just the Way You Are_," Oliver solved with a grin.

"I have to ask… what would that even sound like?" Thad asked, and Kendrick, Micheal, and Oliver all grinned at each other before they started singing.

**Weep for yourself, my man  
><strong>**You'll never be what is in your heart  
><strong>**Weep, little lion man  
><strong>**You're not as brave as you were at the start  
><strong>**So rate yourself and rake yourself  
><strong>**Take all of the courage you have left  
><strong>**And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head**

**But it was not your fault but mine  
><strong>**And it was your heart on the line  
><strong>**I really messed it up this time  
><strong>**Didn't I, my dear?**

**Tremble for yourself, my man **_(her eyes, her eyes)  
><em>**You know that you have seen this all before**_ (they're not shinin')  
><em>**Tremble, little lion man  
><strong>**You'll never settle any of your scores**_ (her hair, her hair)  
><em>**Your grace is wasted in your face  
><strong>**Your boldness stands alone among the wreck **_(oh, just the way you are)  
><em>**Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck **_(just the way you are)_

**But that was not your fault but mine **_(just the way, just the way, just the way that you are)  
><em>**And it was your heart on the line **_(just the way, just the way, just the way that you are)  
><em>**I really messed it up this time  
><strong>**Didn't I, my dear? **_(just the way, just the way, just the way that you are)  
><em>_Just the way you are_

_Oh, hey eyes, her eyes  
><em>_They're not shinin'  
><em>_Her hair, her hair  
><em>_Without her tryin'  
><em>_She's so beautiful, and I tell her every day_

_Oh, you know, you know, you know  
><em>_I'd never ask you to change  
><em>_If perfect's what you're searching for  
><em>_Then just say the same  
><em>_So, don't even bother asking if you look okay  
><em>_You know I'll say_

_When I see your face  
><em>_There's not a thing that I would change  
><em>'_Cause you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are  
><em>

_And when you smile  
><em>_The whole world stops and stares for a while  
><em>'_Cause you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

_You're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

Kurt even joined in on their impromptu mash-up, but Wes didn't look very impressed. "Nice try, but you mixed the orchestra more than the lyrics."

"Wo could do _Blow_."

"_No_ Ke$ha!" Wes declared immediately. "No _Tick Tock_, no _Blow_, no _We Are Who We Are_, I won't have it!"

"Calm down, Wesy," David said with a roll of his eyes. "I like Blaine's idea about P!nk."

"We could always do _Perfect_, the clean version," Blaine also suggested, but Wes ignored him.

"Blaine. Happy," David reminded him.

"I think we should do more than one song," Thad said from the other side of the bench. "The New Directions always do more than one song, and the only time Vocal Adrenaline did one song, it was _Bohemian Rhapsody_. And we can't do two peppy pop songs, it'll sound redundant."

"What about a ballad?" Blaine asked.

"Or a duet?" Jeff asked, getting only a frosty glare from Wes.

"We could do a slower song. Slow doesn't necessarily mean sad," Nick argued as he had argued during every rehearsal.

"Dismissed!" Wes suddenly barked. "You guys are giving me a headache."

"What do you think the deal with Charlie is?" Kurt asked as they walked out of rehearsal, glad it hadn't been too long or too painful.

"I have no idea, but I know three things: one, Charlie is more sensitive than he lets on, two, Charlie lets his emotions on a particular topic build up until he snaps, and three, Charlie always changes the color of his hair when he's really upset. When I first met him, his hair was purple… I can't remember what color it was between that and pink, and now it's brown, which happened back when he first told Lucas he loved him. If Charlie's really upset, his hair color would be different by now. It's been twenty-four hours. So, he's fine."

"You really have him all figured out, don't you?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy. Want to head to The Lima Bean?"

"It wouldn't be rehearsal without coffee after."

* * *

><p>"Talking about the party really seemed to upset him," Kurt said, returning to the subject of Charlie after they had ordered their coffees.<p>

"Didn't I tell you not to worry about this? Charlie is fine," Blaine insisted again. "Maybe he just… wanted an invite, or something."

"Well, I can't understand that. The party was a travesty," Kurt muttered.

"What?" Blaine said with a laugh. "It was not."

"You just don't remember it through your punch-tinted haze," Kurt replied as their order was called."

"I didn't drink _that_ much," Blaine said with a chuckle.

"Are you kidding? You spent the entire night sucking Rachel Berry's face. That, sir," Kurt said as Blaine's phone started to ring, "is what we call rock bottom."

"Oh, my God. Speak of the devil."

"Two medium drips," the barista offered.

"Hi, Rachel. Kurt and I were _just_ talking about you," Blaine said with a little laugh. No matter how annoying Rachel was, Blaine always managed to be so polite to her. They both picked up their coffees as Rachel obviously said something, Blaine still smiling, and he _had_ to know.

As Blaine turned to walk towards their table, Kurt leaned closer to where Blaine and Rachel were talking, Blaine obligily walking on the left side. "_So, I have a question for you. I wanted to know-_" Rachel was talking slowly and uncharacteristically calmly, the way she had Friday night, and Carole King's _Far Away _was playing in the background.

Wait… "Is she drunk?" Kurt asked incredulously with a laugh. Why the hell was Rachel drunk-dialing _Blaine_?

"Shh, shh, shh, shh. Um, yeah," Blaine said, walking out of everyone's way and also preventing Kurt from hearing his conversation with Rachel. "Uh-huh. All right, I'll see you then." She probably wanted to sing another duet with him, admiring his talent despite his rival status or something very Rachilian. Unless she was _really_ drunk. "Okay, bye." Blaine was smiling as he hung up, placing his coffee down as he sat down. "Rachel just asked me out," Blaine said, his voice choked with laugher.

"Oh, that is amazing. She's got a girl crush on you." Or Rachel being drunk just made her like Blaine, but either way it was hilarious. Blaine had agreed to… "Wait a second," Kurt backtracked as Blaine stood up to get sugar, suddenly finding the situation not-so-funny at all. "Why'd you say yes? You can't lead her on." Blaine couldn't treat his best friend like that, even if she wasn't crazy.

"Who says I'm leading her on?" Blaine even looked offended by the suggestion!

_What_? "You can't be serious." Blaine had to be joking. There was no way that, after everything they had been through, after all _Blaine_ had been through, he was turning tail on everything and… what?

"When we kissed, it—it felt good," Blaine said with a little shrug, more focused on flavoring his coffee than the fact that he had just agreed to go on a date with _Rachel Berry_, not only a girl, but the most annoying girl anyone had ever met.

"It felt good because you were _drunk_."

"What's the harm in going out on one crummy little date?" Blaine asked, and Kurt couldn't think of a good answer. What was wrong with him? He was just… spouting this out of _nowhere_, so calmly, acting like him deciding that he was straight and going on a date with _Rachel_ was an every day occurrence. Blaine was… Blaine was _proud_ and he was secure and he knew who he was and he was the person Kurt went to for everything and… now what?

"You're _gay_, Blaine," Kurt said, hissing it more for effect than the fact they were in a crowded coffee shop in conservative Ohio. Blaine had never cared to shy away from who he was before.

"I-I-I thought I was, but I, uh, I've never even had a _boyfriend_ before." Kurt considered himself a pretty romantic person, but Blaine was placing _way_ too much stress on the difference between relationships and sex if he was calling his other experiences into question because he hadn't had a _boyfriend_. "Isn't this the time you're supposed to… figure stuff out?" Blaine asked him, shrugging and unconcerned. Wasn't the whole 'try the other sexuality' thing during _college_? Why was this happening?

"I can't believe that I'm hearing this right now."

"Maybe I'm bi, I don't know."

"'Bisexual' is a term that gay guys in high school use when they want to… hold hands with girls and feel like a normal person for a change," Kurt hissed, leaning back from the table.

"Woah, woah, wait, wait. Why are you so angry?" Blaine asked, and could he really not understand why this would upset Kurt? Why it felt like his world was imploding? Blaine was stubborn and crazy and yes, he could be idiotic, but Blaine had never been… scared or curious or… anything but the person Kurt needed him to be. And Kurt still needed him.

"Because I look up to you," Kurt said, knowing. "I admire how proud you are of who you are. I know what it's like to be in the closet, and here you are about to tiptoe back in." Maybe Blaine had never been in the closet, but people like Blaine, _stories_ like Blaine's were the reason he and so many others were out!

"I-I'm really sorry if this hurts your _feelings_ or your… pride or whatever, but however _confusing_ it might be for you, it's actually a lot more confusing for me. You're one hundred percent sure who you are. _Fantastic_. Well, maybe we all can't be so lucky." Blaine was accusing him of being ungrateful? Really?

"Yeah, I have—I've had a lot of luck, Blaine. I was really lucky to be chased out of high school by a bully who threatened to _kill_ me." Kurt had gone through so much because of his sexuality, and so had Blaine, and now he was just backing out of everything they stood for!

"And _why_ did he do that?"

"Because he didn't like who I was." The same way those bullies didn't like who Blaine was, but Blaine fought to be who he was anyway!

"Sort of exactly… what you're saying to me right now, isn't it?" Kurt just stared at Blaine, because he didn't even know what to say. This wasn't what Blaine was! And how could Blaine compare his confused 'feelings' about a drunk kiss to Karofsky's repressed sexuality and assault on him and… who was this idiot sitting across from him? Because it wasn't Blaine. "I am—I'm searching, okay? I'm honestly just… trying to figure out who I am, and for you, of _all_ people, to get down on me for that—I didn't think that's who you were." Blaine slumped forward a little before standing up. "I'll see you. I'd, uh, I'd say '_bye_,' but I wouldn't want to make you angry." Blaine flounced out of the coffee shop, and Kurt just stared after him.

* * *

><p>Blaine had driven them both to the Lima Bean, which meant he had gotten a ride back with some scared freshmen, and he kept replaying the conversation with Blaine in his head over and over as they drove back to Dalton. Yes, Blaine had been out of line by comparing Kurt's innocent comment about how proud Blaine had <em>been<em> of his sexuality to Karofsky's repression and assault and death threats, _way_ out of line, but… Blaine was a human being, not just Kurt's night in shining armor, and he had every right to question and wonder and find out. Just because Kurt had feelings for him that Blaine was _way_ too good at blatantly ignoring, didn't mean he shouldn't be a good friend. And he had been a terrible friend. And Blaine was so mad at him, he wouldn't even answer Kurt's texts.

The tears started without his permission as they pulled into Dalton, frightening the freshmen further, and he only knew one person who wouldn't judge him for this.

"Charlie!" Kurt could feel the tears building in his eyes and hoped that no one would see him before Charlie opened his damn door. "Charlie!" He rapped his knuckles on the door, wiping away tears. Sweet McQueen, he'd been so stupid. Inside, he heard ruffling and some swearing.

"'lo?" Charlie opened the door, looking irritated. The moment his eyes landed on Kurt's tear-stained face, his entire demeanor softened. "Come 'ere," he murmured, grabbing Kurt in a hug. Kurt just tightened his grip and cried into his bare shoulder. Holy Jacobs, what had he done? Blaine was his best friend and he had just tried to repress Blaine's feelings because he was scared to lose his perfect gay figurine! What was wrong with him?

"What the hell?" Some mussed boy came to the door from inside Charlie's dorm. "Oh, classy. I haven't even left yet." Kurt stepped out of Charlie's arms, probably gaping in a horribly unbecoming and embarrassing way.

"Oh… I'm so sorry… I didn't meant to… I'll just," he stumbled awkwardly. Had he just interrupted Charlie having sex? With someone who wasn't Lucas?

"You, come here," Charlie said, grabbing Kurt's wrist. "You, out. He's not my boyfriend, or one of them, but he sure takes precedence over your lousy ass. Shoo," Charlie addressed the boy he had just slept with without a care, leading Kurt into his room. The bed looked like he'd been having a group-grope with an entire football team, Charlie was, Kurt realized now, half-naked... he even _smelled_ like sex. Well, this day was getting better and better.

"I'm sorry, Charlie, I didn't mean to..." 'be such a cock-block,' he continued mentally, but Charlie just waved a hand, like he could brush the incident off.

"What happened?" Charlie fixed an intense gaze on him, and... Kurt had forgotten how _green_ his eyes were up close. Why had he come here? He didn't want to talk about this.

"You know, you really shouldn't treat guys like that," Kurt said with a frown, gesturing towards the door. Charlie, for as long as he had known him, had yet to figure out how excellent he was at deflecting.

"He's a whore anyway, I'm sure he's used to getting kicked out after," Charlie snorted. "What happened? And don't even try to lie to me." Damn, Charlie was stubborn.

"Most of us would be lucky to have _one_ boyfriend. How many do you have now? Five? And what happened to Lucas?" Kurt continued, ignoring Charlie's question.

"He broke up with me," Charlie's eyebrows pulled together and his lip trembled a little. "It's the first time, I think, that _I've_ ever been the one broken up with. It was... interesting to say the least. And I only have two special friends on call, thank you very much."

"Shame," Kurt said, with a very real sigh.

"Wasn't getting any anyway," Charlie said with a shrug, but Kurt knew that number one, that wasn't true, and number two, Charlie cared about much more than that, especially when it came to Lucas. Lucas made Charlie… even crazier than normal, which was quite the feat. But Charlie was trying to push all of his feelings away, for some unknown reason. Kurt looked up at his hair, which was still his natural dark brown.

"I thought you loved about him." Kurt raised a perfectly-waxed eyebrow at his friend. Deflecting, he learned a long time ago, was an excellent distraction.

"Foreign words," Charlie replied. "Now, what happened with Blaine?" Kurt opened his mouth to protest. Did his entire life revolve around Blaine? "I know it was with Blaine, because there are massive tear tracks all over your face. Now _spill_," Charlie said flatly, and Kurt knew he couldn't get away this time.

"You remember Blaine and I went to a party?" Charlie nodded. "Well, it was at my friend Rachel's house, so I assumed it would be rather... wholesome." Charlie snorted, but didn't interrupt. "Turns out, Rachel was tired of playing 'Daddys' Little Princess' and everyone, with the exception of Finn, the designated driver, and myself got completely drunk. I, to be honest, don't enjoy not having control over all of my senses." Charlie snorted at that too.

"Blah, blah, blah. Party, party, party. Skip to the problem please." Kurt glared at Charlie, who seemed unfazed by the 'Mighty Dragon Glare' as Finn would call it.

"We played Spin the Bottle." Charlie grinned. "Blaine ended up kissing Rachel, about a foot from my face, might I add, and singing a duet of _Don't You Want Me_ by The Human League with her."

"Wait, wait, wait. So this is what happened when our wholesome little Blainey got drunk off his ass?" Kurt nodded and Charlie cracked up laughing, almost falling off the bed where he and Kurt were sitting. "Please tell me you have videos!" Kurt frowned, and Charlie sobered again. "Sorry..."

"As I was saying, Blaine was drunk. After the party, I took him home, and-"

"Ooh, la, la," Charlie smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Not like that. Today-"

"Oh, so before it was 'I took him home' and now it's 'today.' Someone is withholding _details_," Charlie said, waggling his eyebrows. Kurt smacked his arm.

"What happened to 'skip to the problem'?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow. "Today, just a little bit ago, we were at The Lima Bean and Rachel called him, drunk. She asked him out and he said, 'yes'!"

"Hold up," Charlie interrupted... again. "You've been crying because Blaine is going on a _date_ with a _girl_? Be serious, Kurt, that's not gonna last!" Kurt glared.

"I wasn't done, was I?" Charlie looked remorseless, and Kurt continued anyway. "He... he said he was 'searching' and trying to figure out who we was, and I... I said some really horrible things to him," Kurt couldn't look at Charlie as he said that, and he certainly couldn't repeat the words he'd said to Blaine. "I overreacted and said the first few things that popped into my head, and now he hates me." Tears were building in his eyes and attempting to flow over again. What had he done? Charlie, the arrogant, irritating asshole, started _laughing!_ "What is funny about that?" Kurt snapped angrily, getting up from Charlie's bed.

"You overreacted then, and you're overreacting now. Kurt, Blaine's your best friend. Nothing you ever say to him will make him _hate_ you. I'm sure he's a little upset, but I'm sure that if you talked to him and told him what you just told me, he'd be fine. Honestly!" Charlie said with a huff, falling dramatically against the bed. Damn him for being so clear-headed.

"I've told you I hate you recently, right?" Kurt asked, laying back down on the bed and leaning into his friend.

"Of course," Charlie said softly, wrapping an arm around the countertenor's shoulders. To anyone else, this would look like a romantic situation (especially since Charlie had yet to put a shirt on), but Kurt knew this was Charlie's way of comforting him, so he just rested his head against his shoulder.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"I feel like now is _not_ the right moment to hit on you, but I have an awesome line planned out in case I wanted to," Kurt just ignored Charlie's comment and surmised that was an affirmative.

"Have you ever tried to figure things out?"

"You mean with a girl?"

"Yes."

"No, I figured out pretty early guys do it for me in both my head and reality. But Blaine… Blaine can be a little bit artsy-fartsy given the chance. When something feels good, he decides that it's good for him, even when it's really not. Take the two of you for example: he likes where your friendship is, so he's decided that's the best thing that could happen, even when the reality is that the two of you would make a great couple."

"You think so?"

"Much better than him and the only other person I've ever met who's as small as him and fully grown." Kurt laughed at that.

"Thank you."

"No problem, chico. I got your back." Charlie kissed his hair.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And this is the third apology I've written in as many days that I've been out of writing commission for such a long time. It's been a really unfortunate set of weeks, but I have Christmas vacation ahead of me and I'm ready to write! Whoo! Next chapter will be a big one (I actually plan to write Blaine and Rachel's date, which will be super fun for me). Also, the word I could not spell today was Blaine's name, see I just did it there, but I'll leave it as an example of what it might look like in the upper paragraphs, spelled wrong. My spell check does nothing about it, so, if you see it like that anywhere else, I apologize.**

**Songs used/mentioned: (so many… just so many)  
><strong>'_Teenage Dream_' by Katy Perry (in the style of Glee; mentioned)  
>'<em>Black and Yellow<em>' by Wiz Khalifa (mentioned)  
>'<em>S&amp;M<em>' by Rihanna (mentioned)  
>'<em>Firework<em>' by Katy Perry (mentioned)  
>'<em>E.T.<em>' by Katy Perry feat. Kanye West (or not, on the album version; mentioned)  
>'<em>Coming Home<em>' by Diddy - Dirty Money feat. Skylar Grey (mentioned)  
>'<em>Jar of Hearts<em>' by Christina Perri (mentioned)  
>'<em>Hey There Delilah<em>' by the Plain White T's (mentioned)  
>'<em>Grenade<em>' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)  
>'<em>Secrets<em>' by OneRepublic (mentioned)  
>'<em>Rhythm of Love<em>' by the Plain White T's (mentioned)  
>'<em>Raise Your Glass<em>' by P!nk (mentioned)  
>'<em>Dynamite<em>' by Taio Cruz (mentioned)  
>'<em>Little Lion ManJust the Way You Are_' by Mumford & Sons/Bruno Mars (in the style of Glee, because I love YouTube extras)  
>'<em>Blow<em>' by Ke$ha (mentioned)  
>'<em>Tik Tok<em>' by Ke$ha (mentioned)  
>'<em>We R Who We R<em>' by Ke$ha (mentioned)  
>'<em>Perfect<em>' by P!nk (mentioned)  
>'<em>Bohemian Rhapsody<em>' by Queen (in the style of Glee; mentioned)  
>'<em>Far Away<em>' by Carole King (mentioned)  
>'<em>Don't You Want Me?<em>' by the Human League (in the style of Glee; mentioned)

**And I just had to use the Warbler Little Lion Man/Just the Way You Are Mash-up off YouTube. It's just too ridiculously them... and not very well mashed together at all.**

**Reviews are Love.**


	35. When It Raines, It Pours

Kurt hadn't talked to Blaine since the previous afternoon, when everything had kind of exploded, but Charlie had helped to calm him down. Still, he knew Blaine was angry with him, and after having a quick text conversation with a positively _sloshed_ Rachel, supervised by Charlie so he wouldn't go nuts on her (as Charlie put it), he knew their date was tonight. Hopefully, the date would be horrible, Blaine would realize that he was being silly, and this whole thing would blow over without them ever having to talk about it. They didn't have rehearsal again until Friday, and Kurt didn't actually _have _to interact with Blaine during classes, so everything was going to be okay.

Kurt was sitting on his bed, convincing himself of all of these things, when his phone rang, making him jump about a foot and making Chris laugh. Kurt glared at his roommate before picking up the phone, not bothering to check the Caller ID because he was positive it wasn't Blaine, looking to correct his mistakes and make up. "Hello?"

"_Hey, there, bud. How's Dalton_?"

"Hey, Dad," Kurt said with a smile, because yes, his relationship with his dad was still rough around the edges, but no one knew better than his father when he needed to be cheered up. Except maybe Charlie, who seemed to have a sixth sense for his misery. "Dalton's fine."

"_How was Rachel's party_?" his father asked casually, and whenever a parent asked something casually, there was trouble brewing. Burt hadn't said a word about finding Blaine in Kurt's bed, but he knew it was coming.

"It was a party thrown by Rachel Berry," he insisted, and his father chuckled, accustomed to Rachel's unique personality since she had been over at the house so much during her relationship with Finn, and now because Kurt was tolerating her. "It was terrible, but it was harmless." That wouldn't be exactly how most parents would describe a party with so much alcohol, but Burt didn't have to know about that. He probably wouldn't believe it anyway, since he knew Rachel.

"_Glad to hear it. Listen, I think Finn's having some Rachel or Quinn troubles, and I would appreciate it if you could stop home soon and talk to him. I can't understand what he sees in those girls, I really can't. Besides, you never taught me about brunch."_

"Dad, it's really hard to get out mid-week." Since the commute was four hours, round trip.

"_Come on, kid, you promised you'd teach me. I feel bad making Carole do all the cooking. Plus, I haven't seen you in a month, and I didn't let you board at that damn school so you could escape your home_." His father was _excellent_ at guilt-trip-ing without making it sound like that was the maneuver he was using, and Kurt sighed.

"I don't have rehearsal tomorrow, so I'll try to get down after school," Kurt promised his father.

"_All right, kiddo, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't you have class now or something?_"

"I should probably go down to breakfast," Kurt admitted, checking the clock and realizing it was the first morning at Dalton where he couldn't count on Blaine to get him some food if he was late, which made him sigh.

"_You sure everything's all right at Dalton? None of those boys giving you trouble?_"

"I'm fine, Dad," Kurt insisted. "I have to go, or I won't get food."

"_All right, kid, I'll see you._"

"I love you, Dad," Kurt said, spur of the moment, because his dad didn't show much affection except when Kurt needed it. Since his whole life at Dalton seemed to revolve around Blaine, and his best friend was terrifically angry at him, he needed it.

"_Love you, too, kid,_" Burt said in reply, but he sounded wary. "_Bye_."

"Bye," Kurt said, hanging up, and he jumped about a foot when Chris sat next to him on his bed.

"What did he do now?"

"Why do you always assume he did something?"

"Because he always does, the idiot." Kurt sighed, and started to tell his roommate the story.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Charlie," Blaine said causally as he sat down in first period, taking the empty seat next to his best friend and ignoring the looks from the rest of the classroom. Charlie wasn't actually in his chemistry class, but the likelihood of him leaving was slim to none. "What's up?"<p>

"I…" Charlie was just staring at the wooden desk he was sitting in, not having reacted as Blaine entered the room, and he looked kind of shell-shocked. True to form, his brown hair had medium blue tips, and he clearly was not fine.

"Something wrong?" Blaine asked, knowing the answer. There was a slight possibility that Charlie had decided to come to his class before he had been a complete and total asshole to Kurt yesterday, but that clearly wasn't what he wanted to talk about. For the record, Kurt had been pretty terrible, too. Blaine was counting his lucky starts that they didn't have rehearsal until Friday.

"I think Lucas and I broke up." Charlie sounded like he couldn't believe his own words.

"What happened?" Blaine asked, only a little bit shocked. Charlie was silent for too long, Mr. Weatherbie entering the room and starting to write notes on the board without addressing his students. Blaine jotted them down, sneaking glances at the boy sitting next to him out of the corner of his eye. "Charlie?" he asked him.

"I… I can't believe he broke up with me." That explained the hair, then. Anytime Charlie was going through some dramatic emotional revelation, his hair color changed. It was one sure-fire way to measure his best friend's emotions.

"Are you okay?"

Charlie turned towards him and glared. "Do I seem okay to you, dumb-dumb?" he asked, raising his voice enough that other people in the class looked over. Mr. Weatherbie didn't react as he started putting some formulas down on the board.

At least the stupid question had made Charlie act like himself.

"No, but until you tell me what happened, there's no way I can make you feel better," Blaine pointed out, and Charlie sighed.

"I... we had been arguing lately. About Kurt."

"I noticed," Blaine said, semi-dryly. Everyone had seen Charlie explode at Lucas in the cafeteria only two days ago, and Blaine was sure this news of the conversation they were having would also circle quickly around the school. Charlie wasn't exactly being quiet, not too big on privacy as a human being.

"I didn't think he would..." Charlie appeared to still be in the phase of breaking up where he was processing the 'why.' "Do you think he really still has feelings for Kurt?"

"Really? That's what you're going with?" Blaine asked, looking away from his notes to raise an eyebrow in Charlie's direction. Perhaps it wasn't the most sympathetic thing to say, but that was the crap Charlie had been spouting for the last week and a half, mostly directed towards him instead of his actual boyfriend, which was another problem.

"Well, why else?"

"Maybe because you went a pinch crazier than normal and yelled at him in the cafeteria because he wasn't paying enough attention to you?" Blaine asked, and Charlie shook his head.

"No, it couldn't have been that," he said absently, obviously still contemplating.

"I really think it was that."

"I _really_ don't think so." Charlie was glaring again.

"What else could it possibly have been then? Charlie, Lucas loves you."

"Actually..." Charlie fidgeted in his chair, something Blaine only noticed because he had once again looked down to take notes, remembering for a brief moment that he was in class, and when Mr. Weatherbie filled up the board, he would erase it all and start again.

"What?" he asked Charlie eventually, because the crazy boy was still squirming.

"He never said that, at least... not in so many words. Or any words really. Ever." Blaine's brain was trying to do the math, but it wasn't computing. Not the chemistry, Charlie.

"You told him you loved him... I can't even _remember_ how long it's been since you told him you loved him."

"I know." Charlie was looking down at his hands.

"Is that what this is about?"

"What _what_ is about?"

"Your break-up."

"He broke up with me."

"He broke up with you because you flipped your shit about something. Is that what it was? That he hadn't told you he loved you?"

"I didn't flip my proverbial shit about anything."

"Charlie, you yelled at him for including Kurt in your conversation, knowing that Kurt never returned his feelings and Lucas is over Kurt." At least, that was the story Kurt told, and Blaine was sure Lucas would back it up. Plus, Lucas paid no more attention to Kurt than to anyone else. At least, not any that wasn't justified by their hodgepodge of McKinley friends and mutual interest in cheerleading, a sport no one else was really interested in unless it involved girls.

"So he says."

"Charlie," Blaine said firmly, glad to finally have the chance to tough-love Charlie the way his best friend had been doing to him for years. "Lucas _loves_ you, no matter what you think, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move past whatever craziness this is."

"I'm not crazy," Charlie snapped, and Blaine almost laughed before he realized Charlie was being completely serious. "I just… I guess I've never been in a relationship where I'm the one more vested. It sucks." Blaine chuckled, earning himself a glare, and then took advantage of the few seconds he had while Mr. Weatherbie was erasing the board to give Charlie a sideways hug. His friend shoved him off with a pout.

"Charlie, do you love him?"

"Of course I do," Charlie snapped, having been born without patience.

"Then why do you find it so hard to believe that he loves you in return?" Blaine asked, trying to stay calm.

"Well, you love Kurt and you're convinced he doesn't feel the same way, so why don't _you_ answer that question?" Charlie sat next to him on the bed, no longer looking vulnerable. "Yes, let's talk about that. What the _hell_ was that?"

"What was what?" Blaine mirrored Charlie's earlier words, still harboring the slim hope that Charlie didn't know about their argument. This hope faded as Charlie glared at him, clenching his fists more out of reflex than out of menace.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Blaine Devon Anderson." It was always worrying when someone pulled out the middle name. "How _dare_ you compare him to the Neanderthal who has been traumatizing him for _years_?" Charlie asked angrily, putting no effort into keeping his voice down, and Blaine could tell by his word choice that he'd discussed the incident with Kurt.

"Charlie, I don't want to talk about it," Blaine said in what he hoped was a pacifying tone.

"Blaine," Charlie began in a mockery of his tone, "_I don't care_," he yelled suddenly. "I really don't!"

"Mr. Shields, Mr. Anderson, would you like to take this conversation out into the hall?" Mr. Weatherbie asked calmly, still writing. "I allow conversation in my class because I know taking notes is tedious, but I do require a measure of respect." The teacher didn't comment at all on the fact that Charlie wasn't in the class; most didn't.

"No, thank you. I apologize, Mr. Weatherbie, Charlie won't raise his voice again."

"Don't try to control me like you do Kurt," Charlie mumbled, but he was at least being quiet.

"Don't you at least want to hear my side of the story?" Blaine asked him, returning to their conversation in a whisper. There had been a time when Charlie would side with Blaine immediately. Apparently, that time was over, and Charlie had already made up his mind.

"I know your side," Charlie said, going scarily calm. "You suggested to him that you might be bisexual, a completely ridiculous notion, might I add, because without alcohol you've never shown the slightest interest in girls. He laughed, as I would have, and you accused him of being biphobic, at which point you compared him to the Philistine who's been torturing for years, and then left with some snide comment about homonyms." Charlie had no regard for his own privacy, but Blaine could feel judgmental eyes from all corners of the room, and did they really have to have this conversation now?

"He was acting biphobic," Blaine argued, but he knew there was no way Charlie was going to care what he had to say. The crazy idiot had already made up his mind.

"Why do you care?" Charlie said, still maintaining his calm façade. "You're not bi."

"How do you know that?" Blaine replied, feeling like he and Charlie were about to have the same conversation he and Kurt had, and this one would end about as well.

"Because I know you," Charlie replied, "and you haven't shown the slightest interest in girls while sober, even when girls show interest in you. You always say 'wrong team,' and it's the one thing you've always been right about."

"Charlie, must we discuss this right now?"

"Kurt's just mad because you've been rejecting his advances for the past few months and now you're going on a date with his female best friend. That's gotta hurt a little."

"I haven't been _rejecting-_" Blaine started to object when he heard snickering from other members of the class. Were they _all_ focusing on his conversation with Charlie?

"See, even the peanut gallery agrees with me. I know you have all sorts of bullying issues, and I have sympathy, I really do, but Kurt's not a bully. Kurt's your friend, hopefully eventually your much-more-than-friend, whom you've been hurting unintentionally for weeks. So, yes, you're the one being the asshole here." Charlie cursed loud enough for the teacher to hear, but Blaine could have _sworn_ he saw Mr. Weatherbie's frame shaking like he was laughing. Did the whole school follow his relationship with Kurt? "For the intentions of informing the peanut gallery, Kurt has openly admitted that he has feelings for Blaine."

"Charlie!" Blaine objected, because that really wasn't information other people needed to know.

"We all knew that anyway, dude," Joe said from Blaine's other side, which provided Charlie with endless amusement.

"So go on however many dates you want with this Rachel chick. Fuck her, for all I care, but you're not in the right here, and I hope you know that." Blaine had stopped being shocked by Charlie's language a long time ago.

"It's not like Kurt hasn't experimented with a girl before," he hissed, but judging by the shockwave through the room and the fact that Mr. Weatherbie stopped writing briefly, he was overheard.

"You're really just digging your own grave here. Kurt's gonna be _so_ mad," Charlie said, sounding a little bit amused, "and that doesn't count. He wasn't doing it because he misguidedly thought he was straight." Why would Kurt be mad at him (besides the argument)? Charlie was the one 'informing the peanut gallery.'

"Look, Charlie, I didn't ask for your opinion, okay?" Blaine snapped, so tired of being judged for the fact that he and Rachel were going on a date. "Why don't you worry about your own love life, all right?"

"This affects my love life," Charlie began, and Blaine knew this was going to be some masterful deflection worthy of Kurt's skill. "If you finally man up, grow some cojones and start dating Kurt, Lucas will get over him and then I won't have my problem anymore."

Blaine stopped writing notes, just putting his head against the desk and groaning. "I hate you."

"I know you do," Charlie replied as he walked out of the class. Mr. Weatherbie didn't stop writing.

* * *

><p>Even though he had class with Kurt, Blaine hadn't seen him all day, though he had a feeling the two, separate protective rings of hockey players around one desk in both religion and physics had something to do with that, and he probably had Griffin to blame for the phenomena. One of the great things about going to a school as selective at Dalton was that taking an AP class didn't immediately distance Blaine from the athletes, because they were smart as well as strong and fast. At the time, Blaine had mixed feelings on the topic. At least Kurt hadn't come up to him furious about the rumors flying around the school, most of which were true.<p>

Blaine had no idea if Charlie had actually gone to his own classes that day, but he was trying on outfits for his date with Rachel in the early afternoon when the idiot reappeared. "You look awful," he said casually as he walked into Blaine's room, and Blaine could have _sworn_ he had locked it. Did Charlie have his other dorm key? How the hell had he managed that?

"Thanks, Charlie."

"On the bright side, you could just wear the same outfit you wore on your first date with Kurt. That looked nice, and you really couldn't twist the knife any deeper."

"I've never been on a date with Kurt," Blaine countered calmly as he browsed through the small portion of his closet dedicated to normal clothes, "but that's actually not a bad idea."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too, but at least I reciprocate," Blaine replied before he could stop himself.

Charlie sat down on the unused bad, and Blaine could see his pout in the mirror. "Too mean."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, because Charlie was right, that one had been too mean.

"I can't believe you're going on this date."

"I can't believe you're not a little more open-minded."

"I'm incredibly open-minded! Ask Lucas," Charlie added with a wink. Blaine didn't make another comment about his relationship, which the tenor was willing to bet wasn't entirely over. "I just… I know you're one of those guys who try to fake it," he said with a shrug.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaine asked warily, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, come on. You know what that means. Guy guys who try to act super straight and masculine and never date so that they'll fit in, but are still out. It's pretty much the recipe for making people forget you're gay. You are _so_ one of those guys." Blaine huffed, holding up the outfit he had worn when he took Kurt to _RENT_ (he assumed that's what Charlie meant by 'first date,' because he had been wearing his Dalton uniform the first day they met). It really did look good, but it also looked guilty in a way clothing really shouldn't be able to.

"I am not!" he argued. "Everyone knows I'm gay, and I admit to liking not-so-straight stuff."

"Only around me and Kurtsie and other welcoming homos," Charlie pointed out, and Blaine wasn't thinking too hard on what Charlie was saying.

"Are you trying to suggest that my date with Rachel is an extension of me being perpetually single and out? Because that doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Not when you put it like _that_," Charlie complained.

"Charlie, we've been friends with years. I know I've hurt Kurt, and I need to talk to him, but couldn't you just be on my side for a few minutes? I'm nervous enough." Charlie sighed, but stood up.

"Fine. Number one, you're terrible at picking out date clothes. Move out of the way." Blaine obliged only because Charlie had been the one who came up with the _RENT_ outfit in the first place. Charlie picked things out of his closet rapidly, a gray D&G cardigan with shawl collar, a white, short-sleeved button-down, a Burberry red-striped pullover, tight, sand-colored chinos, a black leather belt, black boat shoes, and a black and silver watch. "And if you must wear a bow tie…" Charlie crossed to his dresser and pulled out a plain black bow tie, "don't overdo it."

"Sometimes I forget that you're a genius," Blaine said reverently, because it really was perfect. It was casual enough that Rachel wouldn't think he was trying to impress her (though he was), yet nice enough that she would be impressed anyway. Besides, he wasn't too _too_ worried about his outfit, considering he wouldn't be wearing it for very long.

"Get dressed," Charlie said, returning to his lounge spot.

"Charlie, are you even going to pretend you're not watching?"

"I will close my eyes for one minute. You control what I see." Charlie closed his eyes at the end of his statement, and Blaine hurried to get dressed while he wasn't looking. He was pulling on the pullover when Charlie opened his eyes.

"You don't have to be worried, you know."

"Technically, this is my first date," Blaine said as he put on his bow tie. "Don't I have a right to be nervous?"

"You need to stop it with all this 'technically' crap. You've been on plenty of dates with Kurt." Kurt wasn't who he had been referring to, but Blaine let it go.

Once Blaine was dressed, he grabbed his keys and thew his bag over his shoulder. He had almost left the room when the thought occurred to him. "What was number two?"

"Pardon?" Charlie asked, but Blaine could tell he was fighting off a grin.

"You said number one earlier, talking about my clothes. What's number two?"

"Number two," Charlie said, surprisingly not torturing him with suspense, "the date's going to be fine," Charlie said softly.

"Thank you, Charlie."

"Number three, _you_ are an _idiot_."

"I should have expected that."

* * *

><p>Clearly Rachel had been worried about toeing the line between trying too hard and not trying hard enough in her wardrobe as well, judging by the fact that Blaine noticed her change sweaters between the time he arrived at the door and the time they left the house. Rachel's fathers had been receptive and charming, not scaring him at all, and Rachel had kissed them both quickly on the cheek as she left.<p>

Anyway, Rachel looked beautiful in a short, neutral dress with enough ruffles to make it distinctly Rachel, dark blue cardigan, gold flats, and gold jewelry. He held open her door for her, which made her smile gratefully, and Blaine tried not to be perturbed when he noticed that she was wearing a gold star necklace. The one Finn had given her for Christmas.

No, he probably wasn't Finn's favorite person at the moment, he thought to himself as Rachel chattered on about her day, telling him things about classes and teachers and the New Directions (the kind of things she would yell at anyone else for sharing). And yes, Finn was a lovable teddy bear, but he was a _large_, lovable teddy bear with a temper. So, Blaine tried to put thoughts about betrayal out of his head (thinking about Finn could only lead him to thinking about Kurt, and then Charlie would have gotten to him, and even worse, psychically _know_ that he had gotten to him. Sometimes he really hated that boy), and instead tried to focus on what Rachel was saying.

"And I've never really thought of alcohol as a valuable performance tool because of course why would you _pollute_ talent with spirits but performing _Blame It on the Alcohol_ made me realize that for some people alcohol is an everyday reality and in order to connect with those kind of people I need to have the experiences that alcohol gives those people which include not being able to remember what's happened the next day and I feel like that song really embodies that spirit of those experiences. Plus if I hadn't been introduced to alcohol we would never be going on this date." Rachel talked so quickly and so much, listening to her was starting to give him a headache, but he tuned in at the end.

"I wouldn't say _never_," he argued as he pulled out of the driveway. "I mean, you're beautiful and talented, what's not to like?"

"True," Rachel said with no sense of humility, "but alcohol is what made you question your previous reality of being attracted exclusively to men."

"I wouldn't attribute that _all_ to alcohol," Blaine said, and to his Charlie-influenced mind, it sounded like Rachel was agreeing with all of the objections made by his friends. The tenor didn't even realize he was white-knuckling the steering wheel until a small, soft hand was covering one of his.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, clearly picking up on Blaine's tension.

"Fine," Blaine said, willing himself to relax. "I've just had a long day."

"So have I," Rachel said like she was confiding in him. "McKinley's having an Alcohol Awareness Week, and the bombardment is constant. Despite the hangover from Friday night, I find myself for the first time in my life acting like a typical teenager and wondering what's so bad about alcohol."

"Mental impairment, blackouts, poor judgments, alcohol poisoning, undesirable interactions with others," Blaine listed off before he was really thinking about it. "Long term, there can be brain damage, cirrhosis of the liver-"

"I understand that, but alcohol isn't as addictive as other substances. It can be used recreationally."

"Recreational use isn't always the best idea either," Blaine said, and Rachel sighed.

"Let's not argue on our first date." Blaine wasn't sure he liked the way Rachel said 'first date.' She made it sound like 'first of many.' Not that he didn't like her. "Do I get to know where you're taking me?"

"Well, with your curfew I had limited options, but I think I found something fun for us to do," Blaine said as he remembered that he was supposed to be driving and navigating rather than arguing with his date about alcohol. Thankfully, his brain worked pretty well on auto-pilot, and he had yet to take a wrong term, though he was struggling to remember all of the directions to the revival theatre.

* * *

><p>Rachel chatted all the way to the theatre, purposefully avoiding the topic of alcohol, but Blaine was surprised to find her being witty and a little charming (if slightly verbose). Blaine could understand how some people didn't like how much she talked, but it didn't bother him a bit.<p>

"The revival theater?" Rachel asked as soon as Blaine was about three miles away, and it was obvious she knew the root well. "I didn't think anything was playing tonight."

"It was sold out, but I got tickets earlier." Blaine didn't mention that the ticket were supposed to be for him and Kurt, because tickets were another thing that shouldn't be able to make him feel guilty.

Blaine made sure once he had found a parking spot to rush around the front of the car and open Rachel's door for her, making her smile. She giggled when he held out an arm to escort her, but looked confused when he opened the trunk. "What…" she started to ask, and then gasped and squealed in excitement when she recognized the clothes in the back. "Ali MacGraw!" she exclaimed. "This is so cute!"

"I know how much you love your authenticity," Blaine said with a shrug, glad she liked his surprise. The outfit he had chosen for her was the red sweater, black belt, red-and-black checked skirt, and red tights from the scene where Oliver picks Jenny up. He had chosen for himself the outfit Oliver wore while he was walking through campus with Jenny, jeans, a light blue button-up, a blue sweater, gray scarf, and gray cardigan. Rachel seemed thrilled.

"I can't believe we're going to see _Love Story_!"

"'What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved Mozart and Bach, the Beatles, and me?'" Blaine quoted, making Rachel smile brightly as she headed towards the bathrooms to change, Blaine doing the same.

The movie was fantastic, Rachel as familiar with it as he was, and they spent the entire ninety-nine minutes of the movie mouthing every line they could remember, especially the most famous one. The moment Jenny said, 'Love means never having to say you're sorry,' Rachel put her hand in his on the armrest, and he gave it a quick squeeze, not letting go for the rest of the movie. Blaine could tell that she was repressing her emotions a little as the audience discovered Jenny's sickness, so he squeezed her hand again, making her smile. She was one of the rule-following people who didn't talk during movies, so most of the date was silent.

'I don't know,' Rachel mouthed along with Ali MacGraw talking about the church, 'I never really joined. I mean, I guess I never thought that there's any world better than this one. I mean, what can be better than Mozart, or Bach, or you?'

Rachel talked from the moment they left the theatre all the way to her house. "I think we make a great Oliver and Jenny," she confided at one point, smoothing down her checked skirt and then tugging one side of his scarf into submission. "To be honest, they remind me of us, even as far as wardrobe. I think I own this skirt," she admitted with a laugh. "We're both gorgeous, and brilliant, but far more talented than either of them."

"The only way to make this movie better would be music," Blaine agreed, because he could imagine Love Story as a musical.

"It's a shame the first song that would probably be chosen for it is the Romeo & Juliet based Taylor Swift song, _Love Story_," Rachel said, "even though it doesn't really fit the plot."

"You could make the argument that Jenny and Oliver are Romeo and Juliet," Blaine mentioned, "though I agree that song doesn't fit the movie. Plus, there are far too many people today who don't even know about Love Story. I mean, the movie is forty years old."

Rachel started humming _She Keeps Me Warm_, and from there the conversation dissolved into a brainstorming session for _Love Story: the Musical's soundtrack_.

* * *

><p>Blaine once again rushed around the front of the car to open Rachel's door for her when they arrived back at her house. Rachel graciously accepted his hand, climbing out of the car and again clinging to his arm. "Should I run back in and change into my old clothes so I can give this back?" she asked as she grabbed her dress from the backseat.<p>

"Keep it," Blaine said, because he had no other use for the outfit anyway. Rachel smiled, draping her former outfit over her other arm and then taking his again.

"Tonight was really nice," she said with a smile, both of them standing on her doorstep. There were no lights on in her house, which meant Leroy and Hiram must have incredible faith in Blaine.

"Absolutely. There are very few women in the world who could be Jenny at any moment," he said, making her smile. "I love that movie."

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," Rachel quoted with a smile.

"I'll call you," Blaine promised, actually meaning it, and he gave Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back to the Prius. Rachel stayed on her doorstep as he got into the car. She waved when he looked back through the windshield, and was inside the house by the time he reached the end of the driveway.

* * *

><p>Blaine's Prius was long gone by the time Kurt pulled up to Rachel's house, and yes, maybe it was idiotic to have driven all the way from Dalton to Lima (especially since he had to then drive back to make sure he was on time for classes tomorrow, and then drive back up to see his father), when he could have just asked her how the date went via phone. Still, he wasn't sure he was ready to talk to Blaine, and he would sleep better (albeit shorter) if he knew how much of a disaster the date was. Plus, Rachel was easier to understand when he could see her expression and knew what was just dramatic and what was real. Listening to her drone when he could only hear her voice would be… terrible. A date on a Tuesday night was strange to begin with, add that the date was over and Blaine was gone by ten, and Kurt wasn't very worried as he knocked on the door to the Berrys'.<p>

Rachel was eventually the one to answer the door, and Kurt mentally wondered to himself if that was what she had worn on her date with Blaine or if she had come home and changed into something she would consider more comfortable (a sure sign the date went south). "Kurt?"

"Hey, Rachel," Kurt said, kind of pushing through the door and closing it behind him. "Since I was one of the only sober party members," he continued to speak as he walked down into the basement, "and one of the only people who was clearheaded enough to realize how much of a mess we left the place in," Rachel had trash bags and brooms already out, which proved that he could anticipate her (he refused to admit that they could sometimes think alike, though they definitely had the same taste in men), "I was wondering if you could use any help." He grabbed a bag and started doing so anyway.

"Uh, okay," Rachel said, not arguing with him. They worked in silence for a while, Kurt realizing how horrible her basement actually looked (yes, he had been sober, but he had been focused more on a drunk tenor than the state of Rachel's house), and he half-filled a bag with cups within a few minutes.

"Thanks for helping with the party cleanup," Rachel said something finally, cleaning the opposite side of the room from him, "especially considering that you didn't even drink."

"I was in the neighborhood," Kurt said innocently.

"At ten o'clock?" Rachel sounded skeptical, and no, Kurt knew she wasn't stupid. She could add up the number of hours it had taken him to get there and the number it would take him to get back. "Are you sure you're not here just to find out how my date with Blaine went?"

"Oh, was that tonight?" Kurt asked, keeping up the innocent act.

Rachel paused briefly in her cleaning, letting out a deep breath that was almost a sigh, and Kurt was on the verge of a victory dance. She was wearing a black turtleneck and a plain skirt, and either situation that lead to that particular clothing choice meant a horrible date. "Look, we're friends, so… I'm gonna be honest with you." Rachel picked up her trashcan and hugged it as she spoke. "The date was lovely." Kurt tried to fake a smile for her sake, but he had the feeling it didn't come off as very sincere. Still, she kept talking. "We saw _Love Story_ at the revival theatre. We even dressed up as the characters." That could explain the attire, especially the skirt, he thought to himself as she walked over to start picking up cups from the stage, and was that a bra hanging from the curtain? Whose? Who went home without a bra? Was it Rachel's? Gross.

"That's not gay at all." Kurt wasn't sure whether he was hoping she would get the sarcasm or not. "Did you kiss?" He would keep going with the innocent act for as long as possible.

"No," she replied a little wistfully. "Our lips spent the evening mouthing Ali MacGraw's dialogue." Rachel put down her trashcan, which was surely a bad sign for Kurt's patience. "Frankly, I did expect a little snog as the date drew to a close, but… I guess the timing just wasn't right." Rachel sat on the stage, tossing a cup in from her seat.

"Or the blood-alcohol level," Kurt added, continuing to pick up cups, and even Rachel couldn't ignore that one.

"Look… I know that you have feelings for him, and I'm sure you think I'm crazy for asking him out. But Blaine is obviously conflicted and… if he turns out not to be gay, well, then I guess I will have done you a favor." And gotten herself a boyfriend in the process. There were so many things he could say in reaction to her statement, but the first thing he had to do was set her straight about Blaine, and men in general, for that matter.

"And I'm doing _you_ a favor by telling you that Blaine is the first of a long line of 'conflicted' men that you will date that will later turn out to be only the most _flaming_ of homosexuals," Kurt said, sitting down on the stage facing her and abandoning the façade of cleaning up the basement.

"Blaine and I have a _lot_ in common," Rachel said defensively, pulling down her skirt (as if it made any difference).

"A sentiment expressed by many a hag about many a gay." Rachel breathed out her nose in frustration, fighting off a smile. "Look, I don't doubt that you and Blaine would have a jolly good time shopping at Burberry and arguing who would make the better Rum Tum Tugger." Rachel let out a little laugh at that. "I don't dispute that." Kurt shook his head to make his point. "But there's something you and Blaine will never have, and that's chemistry."

Rachel got that determined look on her face that meant she was cooking up something crazy behind those big brown eyes of hers. "Fine," she said, nodding slowly. "Then I'm gonna prove you wrong." Oh? "I'm gonna take the beer goggles off, and I'm gonna kiss him _sober_, and if the spark is still there, then I'm taking you to your bakery of choice for a piping-hot slice of humble pie."

Kurt considered Rachel's idea, and with absolute faith in the fact that Blaine was gay and didn't have chemistry with women, he found the idea more amusing than nerve-wracking. "Fine," he agreed. "And if you're wrong, then I shall serve you the same."

"Deal," Rachel said, and they shook on it. The soprano looked out over her basement and groaned. "Any chance you'll stay and help clean up now that I've told you what you want to know?"

"Minimal," Kurt admitted, standing up and holding out a hand to help Rachel up. "I do have a two hour drive back."

"Which is what made your visit highly conspicuous." Rachel accepted his hand and he pulled her easily to her feet.

"I can't believe you went out on a date where you dressed up in movie costumes," Kurt said with a sniff, because yes, Blaine was exactly the kind of cheesy romantic that would think of that, and he could believe Rachel would be crazy enough to go along, but dear Lorde, _why_?

"I assure you that it wasn't my idea," Rachel said with a smile, but the happiness waned quickly. "Am I a bad friend for asking Blaine out?"

"Yes," Kurt answered immediately, trying not to sound accusatory, "but I can get over that considering how horrible your date was."

"It was romantic!" she argued.

"You wore _costumes_," Kurt replied with a laugh, "you had to change after your date, which was on a _Tuesday_ night, and you're home without so much as a kiss by ten. You don't have to take my word for it, ask anyone, and they'll tell you that's a terrible date."

"Maybe the premise," Rachel admitted, "but _Blaine_ is what makes it romantic. He's cheesy and sincere and goofy and adorable, and he makes all of that work for him by taking girls on dates that match his personality. I can't criticize him for that."

"I agree, with the correction that it's not usually girls he's taking out on dates," he teased, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You understand what I mean. Blaine is sweet, in a way so few guys are."

"Finn is sweet."

"I don't want to talk about Finn."

"And I don't want you to date Blaine, but this isn't a get-what-you-want kind of friendship, is it?" It was more of a competitive friendship, and the prize in question was Blaine.

"Shouldn't you be driving home?" she asked as she return to picking up cups.

"Anything less than eight hours has the same result anyway, might as well find out the good McKinley gossip."

"Goodbye, Kurt," she said, briefly stopping her work to mock-push him towards the stairs.

"And I hope you didn't tell Blaine anything about the New Directions. What happens with Blaine does not stay with Blaine," he called out as he climbed the stairs, thinking about the fact that his kisses with Brittany were now all over the school.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you didn't kiss her," Charlie said at around eleven, laying on Blaine's unused bed, throwing his phone up in the air and catching it to amuse himself. Blaine had already announced that he took no responsibility if it broke in his room.<p>

"I thought you were against this," Blaine replied as he got into his pajamas, too tired to care what Charlie saw.

"Yes, but you don't go on a date with a pretty, talented girl and not kiss her at the end. That makes it a bad date!"

"The date was great, Charlie," Blaine objected as he used a towel to rub some of the gel out of his hair, hoping his crazy best friend would leave shortly so that he could get some sleep. "It was romantic."

"But you didn't kiss her, and I'm willing to bet that sucked all of the romance right out of the air."

"Charlie, forgive me for saying this, but I don't think you know much about women, so I really don't plan to take your advice on my relationship with Rachel."

"You don't _have_ a relationship with Rachel, because you didn't kiss her." Charlie was adamant.

"Would you just go back to your room? We have class tomorrow, and some of us actually believe in showing up."

"I went to class. Just not _my_ class," he qualified. "And I'm sleeping in here tonight." Charlie didn't bother to ask permission, which really didn't surprise Blaine anymore.

"May I ask why?"

"No," was Charlie's answer. "Do you really think I've screwed things up with Lucas forever?"

"He loves you, Charlie," Blaine said, ignoring the snort from his best friend and climbing into his bed. "I think he would do anything for you."

"Then why did he break up with me?"

"That's something you're going to have to ask him."

"You suck."

"Excellently."

* * *

><p>Kurt was feeling relatively cheerful when he woke up on Wednesday morning, even though he wasn't rested in the least. Rachel's date with Blaine had been cheesy, awkward, and terrible, which hopefully had proven to Blaine that he wasn't interested in her. Maybe he was still questioning, but he could stop dating Kurt's best friend.<p>

He whistled to Pavarotti, who had adopted the habit of whistling in return, and he was teaching the bird how to whistle _Good Life _when Chris finally got out of the shower. "Do I even want to know what you were doing in there for twenty minutes?" Kurt asked his roommate, who smiled unabashedly.

"You're in a good mood this morning."

"Blaine's date with Rachel was terrible."

"And you're feeling vindicated?"

"That would be correct." Kurt finished his moisturizing routine. "And I'm headed to Lima today to spend some time with my father."

"On a Wednesday?"

"He said he wanted to see me," Kurt replied, curious himself about his father's insistence. "And since Wes is already starting to become Rachel-esque about Regionals, considering how excited and competitive everyone is, I probably won't get home this weekend. We have rehearsal on Friday, Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday-"

"I get it, lots of rehearsal." Chris was just upset because basketball season had ended at Dalton and he had no extracurricular activity to immerse himself in.

"Why don't you just play baseball?" Kurt suggested. "Or spend massive amounts of time watching March Madness, like every other heterosexual man on the planet."

"And Blaine?" Chris asked with a grin.

"Shut up. Rachel thinks their date was 'fantastic,' but she made it sound terrible."

"Is that something you actually think, or just something you want to think because you want to be the one going out on dates with Blaine?"

"I doubt I would look good in Ali MacGraw's costumes," Kurt said, trying not to notice the bitterness in his own voice. Chris looked at him in confusion. "They went to Love Story at the Lima Revival Theatre, they dressed up as Jenny and Oliver from the movie, it was last night, and he didn't even kiss her at the end of the date, which was over by ten."

"Doesn't sound like a great date, but isn't Rachel crazy anyway?" Kurt nodded. "What did Blaine think?"

"I haven't talked to him."

"Still?"

"I don't want to talk to him until this whole thing blows over," Kurt said as he straightened his tie and picked up his messenger bag, headed for breakfast. The story of his fight with Blaine had reached everyone in the school, and Griffin, despite assurances by Kurt that this didn't mean he had a shot, had made it his personal mission to protect Kurt, making his hockey minions keep a ring around him at all times. He was even sitting at the hockey players' tables for meals, unless he sat with Chris. Charlie was flitting around as usual, but he wasn't talking to Kurt and appeared to have taken Blaine's side, according to Mr. Weatherbie's period 5 class and the fact that Charlie had slept in Blaine's room last night. Something that didn't bother Kurt at all.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but I don't think this is going to blow over. From the way you describe her, Rachel's a lot like you, and she's also a prude. When someone's questioning as hard as Blaine is, what's going to stop him from dating her if it's not you? Especially because she won't let him get anywhere that would make him uncomfortable. Lips are lips, dude, they're the same on everyone, dude or chick." Kurt sighed, but didn't respond as he left. Suddenly he wasn't in such a good mood.

* * *

><p>Kurt suffered through the long drive home with a little help from Whitney and Madonna, and even though it was only four and his dad should probably still be in the shop, Burt's truck was parked in front of the house. Carole's car was gone, she was probably still at work, and Finn's truck was missing from their driveway. He was probably out with Quinn again.<p>

"Hey, dad," he called out as he walked through his front door, dropping his messenger bag next to the couch. Even though he still technically lived in Lima, it felt awkward to just walk through the door. He spent so much time at Dalton, it was starting to feel more like home than his own house.

"Hey, kid, I didn't expect you so early. Don't you have practice?"

"Rehearsal," Kurt corrected his dad's terminology, "and not until Friday. We have some serious work to do for Regionals."

"When is that? Finn couldn't tell me, and he broke up with his only girlfriend that talked about Glee constantly." Kurt chuckled at his dad's description of Rachel.

"April 2nd," Kurt replied.

"I'll be there. Not sure who I'm supposed to be rooting for, but I'll be there."

"To be honest, I don't envy your position in the middle, but I share the same sentiment."

"The longer you spend at private school, the fancier you get," Burt said, but he didn't make it sound like a bad thing. "You still want to teach me about food?"

"Yes, I also feel terrible making Carole do all the cooking in my absence, but did you really call me home on a Wednesday to ask me about cooking?" Kurt asked, because that didn't sound like his dad at all. "And I know Finn isn't having any Rachel or Quinn problems, either."

"Come on, kid, teach me about brunch."

"It's a little late for brunch," Kurt said, noting that it was around four thirty. "How about something we can make quickly? Soufflé?"

"Sure," Burt said hesitantly as Kurt started pulling ingredients out of the cabinets. "I definitely know what that is."

"Soufflé is a lightly-baked cake made with eggs that can be either a main dish or a dessert, depending on the ingredients you add," Kurt explained as he pulled out the ingredients for vanilla soufflé, knowing that would probably be what the kitchen was stocked for. The available ingredients were much less diverse when he wasn't the one doing the shopping, not that he could blame Carole for not stocking more healthy things. With him eating almost every meal at Dalton, they would go to waste anyway. "The word is French, the past participle of souffler, which means to 'blow up' or 'puff up,' chosen because it describes what happens to this combination."

* * *

><p>"Soufflé is all about the whites," Kurt told his dad as Burt was dipping freshly-washed strawberries in sugar to top their creation, which was in the oven. "If you get yolk in it or you don't let it stiffen properly," he continued, ignoring the fact that his dad was eating ingredients, "then you might as well be making pancakes."<p>

"All right. You think the one we already made is ready yet?" Burt asked as he popped another strawberry in his mouth.

"I hope so," Kurt glanced at the oven.

"All right, let's check it out." Burt had the foresight to put on an oven mitt before pulling the tray out of the oven. "Here we go. Ta-da!"

Kurt sighed as he saw their creation. It was flat, drooped in on one edge. "You didn't leave enough room in the dish to let it rise," he told his father as he walked over to the sink, putting one of the bowls they had used in there. He would be nice to Carole and wash their dishes before he left.

"Hey, I'm sorry," his dad exclaimed. "Why are you being so hard on me? I would've been happy with you teaching me to make… toast." Kurt continued to look out the window, knowing that he was being brusque with his father because of his stupid roommate's reality check about Blaine and Rachel and that date he couldn't stop thinking about.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Dad. I know this is supposed to be bonding time, but," Kurt turned around to face this father, "…it's Blaine." Kurt made it a point not to talk to his dad about boys very often, because he loved his dad, but he knew Burt was far from being able to handle Kurt dating. This was an exception. There was no one he could talk to that wouldn't have heard rumors, that could be impartial about the whole thing. Burt nodded. "He's interested… in _Rachel_."

His father took a moment before answering. "I'm confused. I thought he was gay too." Burt went to the refrigerator, probably to grab something to snack on that Kurt wouldn't yell at him for.

"Oh, he is, he is. He's just… experimenting."

"Yeah, he's not the only one." Sometimes Kurt forgot that he got his attitude from his father.

"What does that mean?"

"Look, I need you to ask me before you have someone sleep over." Burt looked entirely unimpressed, taking a sip of the beer he had taken out of the fridge.

"We-we were fully clothed the _entire_ time," Kurt explained. "Blaine was too drunk to drive, so I let him crash here. I was being responsible."

"What, you mean you kids are _drinking_ now?" Burt demanded.

"Finn and I didn't have any… if _that's_ what you're worried about." He couldn't exactly say the same for any of the other New Directions, but that was for their parent to worry about. Plus, he was willing to bet that wasn't what his dad was worrying about.

"No, I'm _worried_ about you being _inappropriate_ in my house."

"And if Puckerman had a sleepover with Finn, would _that_ be inappropriate?"

"That's different," his dad said immediately.

"Because they wouldn't have sex?" Kurt asked. Not that he and Blaine would, but that wasn't something he wanted to argue with his father about at the moment.

"No, I would never allow _Finn_ to have a _girl_ sleep over _in his bed_."

"But would it make you _uncomfortable_ if he did?" Would it be 'inappropriate' for Finn to be having sex? Because Kurt was willing to bet that Burt would give Finn a box of condoms and a high-five rather than a lecture on appropriateness in the house.

"Hey, when have I been uncomfortable with you being gay?" Burt immediately went on the defensive, and if Kurt had wanted to hurt his father, he could have said 'Always!' But that wasn't what he wanted.

"So, it's not _being_ gay that upsets you. It's just me _acting_ on it."

"I don't know what two guys do when they're… together!" How had they gotten on this? "You know, I sat through that whole Brokeback Mountain. From what I gather, something went down in the tent."

"What… do you want from me here, Dad? I…" Kurt shrugged his shoulders, because he honestly didn't know what to say. For the second time ever, he had opened up to his dad about his romantic life, and his dad had reacted by yelling at him for stopping Blaine from getting into a wreck. Kurt couldn't imagine how Burt would react if he knew about all the times he and Blaine had ended up cuddling at Dalton. His dad would probably have a second heart attack on the spot.

"I want you to _apologize_ for being inappropriate… and promise me you'll never do it again."

Kurt considered it for a moment. "Fine. I'm sorry," he said without a touch of remorse. "I won't have sleepovers with anyone that might be gay without asking you first."

"Thank you," Burt said, though Kurt knew his dad knew he was being a touch sarcastic in his apology.

Kurt exited the kitchen, dishes be damned, but he did have to say one more thing to his father. "But maybe you could… step outside your comfort zone and educate yourself, so if I have any questions, I could… go to my dad like any _straight_ son could," he said with a little shrug. Kurt only said it because he knew his dad was uncomfortable and wasn't willing to admit it.

Plus, it wasn't like his dad ever would.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There are only three more scenes in BIOTA, then onto Sexy! I'm going to have a lot of fun writing that. I apologize, as usual, for the delay between chapters, but I made a promise to myself I'm going to try to write more.**

Songs mentioned:  
>'<em>Blame It on the Alcohol<em>' by Jamie Foxx feat. T-Pain (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>Love Story<em>' by Taylor Swift  
>'<em>She Keeps Me Warm<em>' by Mary Lambert  
>'<em>Good Life<em>' by OneRepublic

**Reviews are Love.**


	36. The Grand Decision

Kurt was in a sour mood on Thursday, a sentiment that was apparently shared by the rest of the school. Wes was continuing to be a tyrant about Regionals, going so far as to criticize the diets of some Warblers, and nothing David could do reigned his boyfriend in, which put David in a foul mood as well. Blaine hadn't so much as looked at him, Chris had apparently taken Kurt's advice about watching March Madness but the team he had chosen to bet on had lost, Charlie was still dealing with Lucas… everyone in the school was either bitter or angry, and Thursday was lousy because of it.

Warbler's rehearsal was tomorrow, and they were _way_ past the point of going to bed angry, but the one attempt Kurt had made to talk to Blaine had been foiled by the person he was angriest at: Rachel. When Kurt had stopped by Blaine's dorm to talk to him, Blaine had been on the phone with her, laughing about something. She was on speakerphone, and judging by the slight slur of her voice, she still hadn't given up her most recent vice: alcohol. Rachel and alcohol were a terrible combination, but Rachel and Blaine as a couple were even worse.

Still, Kurt had to admit that he could see the connection. They were very similar, Blaine and Rachel, and they obviously got along well, Rachel telling Blaine about an interesting Glee rehearsal throughout which the New Directions had tortured a hungover Mr. Schuester. Rachel and Blaine bounced off songs for Regionals, though Kurt could easily tell that none of the songs mentioned would ever be used by either show choir, and they were simply testing each others' musical knowledge.

Kurt had no idea how long he had stood outside Blaine's door after classes, listening to them talk and ignoring the curious glances from everyone who walked by, including a tyrannical Wes and moody David. The thought that Blaine and Rachel could actually have a relationship, a long one, was what finally drove Kurt away from his eavesdropping spot. There were short jokes and musical trivia and Love Story quotes, and Kurt didn't want to think anymore about what all of those things meant. Maybe _he_ should call Rachel, and figure out when their bet was going down. He couldn't wait to serve her that slice of humble pie.

To: Rachel  
>'<em>I don't suppose you're backing out on our bet, are you?'<em>

From: Rachel  
>'<strong>Never. I just need a time to do it. We had the most lovely conversation today…<strong>'

To: Rachel  
>'<em>So I heard. What about tomorrow?<em>'

From: Rachel  
>'<strong>I thought you and Blaine weren't talking? That's what Blainers said. And tomorrow? So soon?<strong>'

To: Rachel  
>'"<em>Blainers?"<em> _Really? You should like Charlie. And yes, tomorrow, why not? Too afraid to kiss him without alcohol in his system?_'

From: Rachel  
>'<strong>Considering how much Blaine loves Charlie, I don't see why that's a bad thing. And fine, tomorrow.<strong>'

To: Rachel  
>'<em>You're obviously not around whenever he threatens Charlie's life, which is fairly often. We have Warblers practice tomorrow, so Blaine will be at the Lima Bean after. Three thirty, don't be late<em>.'

From: Rachel  
>'<strong>You obviously have forgotten how much everyone in the New Directions threatens my life, even though they love me. And I won't be late! I'll prove to you that we have chemistry…<strong>'

To: Rachel  
>'<em>Sure, Rachel.<em>'

That response tied up pretty much everything, and the bet was on.

* * *

><p>When Kurt got out of the shower on the big day, Friday, he found Chris teaching Pavarotti the whistling from <em>The Lazy Song<em>. "I see you've finally warmed up to my bird," Kurt said with a grin as he straightened his own tie and then checked on Chris'.

"He's a cool dude," Chris said with a grin, sticking a finger through the cage (something he had been afraid to do before), "though I don't think he likes my singing."

"I can't say I blame him," Kurt said, whistling to Pav himself and receiving a cheery answer.

"You're in a good mood."

"While it terrifies me that you say that, because whenever you acknowledge my happiness it quickly goes south, yes, I am in a good mood. By the end of today, everything will have been resolved."

"Between you and Blaine?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Rachel's going to kiss him. Blaine will figure out that he's gay, and everything will be right in the world again."

"While I'm totally with you on the whole 'Blaine's gay' thing, it can't end there, dude."

"You couldn't remind me any more of Finn if you tried," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "I will start waking you every day with a bath of cold water if you ever call me 'dude' again." Chris' eyes widened, and he nodded rapidly. "Why can't it end there?"

Chris stared at Kurt for a few seconds in confusion before saying slowly, "That doesn't solve anything."

"It solves everything," Kurt argued. "Whatever's happening between Blaine and Rachel stops, I get both of my best friends back, and Blaine stops denying his sexuality."

"Kurt, he compared you to Karofsky and accused you of being biphobic. I mean, I don't want you to be mad at him, but he did, and he told the whole school about some girl named 'Bethany.'"

"Brittany," the countertenor corrected, "and I don't care about that." Kurt dismissed the incident only because he wasn't embarrassed. Blaine hadn't told the actual story, he had only mentioned that he had dated Brittany. If _Pink Houses_ or flannel had been included, Blaine would be dead already.

"And like I said, I'm on your side, but you kind of _were _an asshole to him. Shouldn't you two talk it out?"

"Do roommates always act as consciences?" Kurt asked dryly as he grabbed his messenger bag, headed for breakfast, "Because if they do, I think we should really get Charlie one."

* * *

><p>Wes was still being rather tyrannical during lunch, but Kurt had to face him anyway, because he had been the one who imposed the rules before realizing he couldn't follow them. How the hell was he supposed to beat Blaine to the Lima Bean after rehearsal? Three thirty sharp was exactly when the rehearsal ended, which meant that in order to meet Rachel on time, he would have to ask for a favor. And this wasn't even the kind of favor he could just slide in through David. He actually had to talk to the despot himself.<p>

"Wes, can I talk to you?" Kurt asked during lunch, approaching where the council was sitting at the head of the Warblers' tables. Kurt wasn't exactly sure how to differentiate the head of a round table, but it was obvious to everyone.

Wes turned from his critique of Thad's diet to look at Kurt, giving him a strangely clinical up-and-down. "You need to eat more," was Wes' comment. Kurt took that as a yes, even though it didn't very much sound like one.

"I was wondering if I could leave rehearsal a little early today." Kurt decided to be direct, hoping Wes would respect _his_ respect for Wes' valuable time. Or something like that which made sense only in Wes' mind. Kurt decided to ignore David's laughter.

"Why?" Wes asked, instead of yelling at him, which was at least a good sign.

"I'm sure you've heard about-"

"No, no he hasn't," David interrupted Kurt. "He and Blaine had a fight." Wes waited, patiently, for the rest of the explanation. "That's all I know."

"We had a fight about Rachel, which is a long story, but the bottom line is that I need to meet Rachel at the Lima Bean before Blaine gets there, which means I have to beat Blaine out of rehearsal by at least fifteen minutes."

Kurt wasn't sure if it was the desperation on his face or how annoyed David seemed to be with his significant other, but Wes showed mercy for the first time during the week. "Fine. You may leave at three fifteen." And with that, he went back to supervising the Warblers' carbohydrate intake, or whatever he had been doing before.

* * *

><p>Griffin had stopped with the ring of hockey players during classes, but Kurt was still avoiding Blaine. He wasn't ready to face his best friend yet. Unfortunately, he had to acknowledge the truth in Chris' statement. Blaine and he had been cruel to each other, hopefully both out of anger and both remorseful, but Kurt could only speak for himself. Still, he needed to talk to Blaine about what had happened, because he didn't really want to hurt Blaine.<p>

Kurt mentally braced himself for the afternoon as he walked to rehearsal, not taking the shortcut he had been using since his first day, preferring to keep in the company of Michael and Thad and avoid running into Blaine. Luckily, he had already done the most terrifying part.

Kurt took a seat in one of the arm chairs when he got to rehearsal, Michael sitting at one of the empty chess tables and avoiding Jeff and Nick, who weren't actually taking up a whole couch, considering they were lap-sitting, but rather making people not want to sit next to them through sheer impropriety. Thad went up towards the council, where Blaine had taken his seat, talking to Wes, who had a stack of papers in his hand that Kurt was willing to guess was sheet music. They had been talking about Regionals for a few weeks, maybe the council had finally made a decision.

"Sit down, Blaine," Wes said finally once enough of the Warblers had gathered for rehearsal to begin, banging his gavel impatiently and provoking a few jokes about whether he pounded David that hard. "Very funny, Kendrick," he practically growled, and apparently he had heard that. "David, pass these out," he said impatiently to his boyfriend, who obeyed with a roll of his eyes.

"Guess that answers that question," Michael muttered, making Kendrick laugh and offer him a fist bump.

"Ke$ha?" Blaine was the first one to ask. "What, have you been talking to the New Directions?"

"Have you?" Wes asked in surprise, and then everyone started snickering. "Silent," Wes demanded, banging his gavel again.

"One in particular," Blaine muttered, and Kurt's stomach turned at the lovesick smile that appeared on his face. Blaine was adorable when he was besotted, but Kurt was getting really tired of it.

"Well, yes, I have. Also one in particular, Miss Lopez, and she informed me, accidentally in a conversation about her lover, Miss Pierce-"

"Wait, Kurt, you stole her from _Santana_?" Kendrick asked with a grin. "Naughty." Kurt sighed, because he had been expecting that to pop up in the conversation at some point.

"I don't even want to know," Wes said, banging his gavel for the third time in as many minutes. "Anyway, Miss Lopez informed me that they were performing _Tik Tok_ at an assembly today." Kurt mentally groaned, because assemblies where the New Directions performed never went well (he couldn't help but think of the Britney incident), and singing _Tik Tok_ for Alcohol Awareness Week had the potential to be the worst yet. "So, I found a suitable counterpart for the Warblers."

"_C'Mon_?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow. "Wasn't this popular for like… a week?"

"Blaine, if you don't want to sing it, we will happily give it to someone else. I'm sure your perpetually tipsy romantic interest would be very disappointed in you." That caused a few giggles, which had surely been David's intention.

"'Romantic interest?'" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow. "Are we Sims now?"

"I've kept that family alive for generations!" David objected, Wes hiding his smile behind a hand, and there would always be things Kurt didn't understand about the Warblers. He had no idea how Blaine had gotten so informed so fast.

"Kendrick, the bridge will be the most difficult part for you, considering the range of the notes," David said as he handed the beat-boxer his sheet music.

"I'm sure Kurt can help me out," Kendrick said with a grin, and Wes mused on it for a second before nodding, looking upwards like he was having a Scrubs fantasy moment.

"Sounds perfect, actually. Blaine, would you like the lead?"

"Happily, Cap'n." Oh, damn, that was cute. Perhaps a touch nonsensical, but so cute.

"Jeff, Nick, Trent, and Michael, you may start, with line four." Kurt got his own sheet music just as they figured out their first note, and wow, only Wes could make a catchy Ke$ha song so complicated. "Charlie, I will pretend I didn't see you," the tyrant said coolly as Charlie slipped in, late as always.

"Technically, I'm honorary," Charlie said with a grin as he shamelessly sat down on the couch with Jeff and Nick, which wasn't even the last seat in the room. "I should have a special, honored arrival time, marked in the minutes by David as 'whenever the hell the honorary Warbler feels like showing up.'"

"Right," Wes said tolerantly, and Kurt had always wondered how exactly Wes resisted the urge to strangle him. "Nice hair," he added before starting to assign various Warblers different lines.

"I thought it was time for a change." No touch of the vulnerability Charlie had been showing for the last few days was visible in his flippant comment.

Kendrick hopped into the armchair next to Kurt's and showed him what he had been talking about, in terms of the accompaniment, and that was high even for Kurt, but he was sure he could manage it. David had made a good call, countertenors were very helpful for a cappella songs.

"Line four, go," Wes said calmly, and the Warblers he had picked out for that line began.

_Ahhh, Ahhhh-h-h, Ahh-h-h-h-h-h, Ahhh-h-h-h-h-h-h  
><em>**Saw you leaning against that old record machine  
><strong>**Saw the name of your band written on the marquee  
><strong>**It's a full moon tonight so we getting rowdy  
><strong>**Yeah, we getting rowdy, g-g-getting rowdy**

Wes had been right about the song, the unique background made it the perfect mix of a cappella music and the pop music the Warblers enjoyed so much, even if Blaine wasn't such a good rapper. And sitting next to Kendrick was interesting, he could do such amazing things with his voice.

**Feeling like I'm a high schooler  
><strong>**Sipping on a warm wine cooler  
><strong>**Hot 'cause the party don't stop  
><strong>**I'm in a crop top  
><strong>**Like I'm working at Hooter's  
><strong>**We been keeping it PG  
><strong>**But I wanna get a little frisky  
><strong>**Come gimme some of that yum like a lollipop  
><strong>**Let me set you free**

Kurt tried not to see the similarities between the verse and the week (ignoring the weird part about crop tops and Hooter's that should never be sung by a male), because frankly Wes had absolutely no idea what was going on with Blaine and him and hadn't chosen the song purposefully... Well, he never knew with Wes. It was a toss-up whether Wes was paying attention to the rest of the world or just the Warblers' business, and the closer they got to Regionals, the less Wes cared about real life.

**C'mon 'cause I know what I like  
><strong>**And you're looking just like my type  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

**Now, don't even try to deny  
><strong>**We're both going home satisfied  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

**Write our names on the wall in the back of the bar  
><strong>**Steal some bubblegum from the corner Maxi-Mart  
><strong>**Yeah, we laughing like kids, causing trouble in the dark  
><strong>**Causing trouble in the dark, t-t-trouble in the dark**

**Feeling like a saber-toothed tiger  
><strong>**Sipping on a warm Budweiser  
><strong>**Touch me and give me that rush  
><strong>**Better pack a toothbrush  
><strong>**Gonna pull an all-nighter  
><strong>**We been keeping it kosher  
><strong>**But I wanna get it on for sure  
><strong>**Come gimme some of that yum like a lollipop  
><strong>**Baby, don't be scared**

**C'mon 'cause I know what I like  
><strong>**And you're looking just like my type  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

**Now, don't even try to deny  
><strong>**We're both going home satisfied  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

**I don't wanna go to sleep  
><strong>**I wanna stay up all night  
><strong>**I wanna just screw around  
><strong>**I don't wanna think about  
><strong>**What's gonna be after this  
><strong>**I wanna just live right now**

Doing Kendrick's job was not easy, the notes were high and faded strangely (electronically, which made sense for the song but was very hard to reproduce vocally). The good news was that, as good as the song sounded, Wes was frowning. Apparently, it was not Regionals material.

**I don't wanna go to sleep  
><strong>**I wanna stay up all night  
><strong>**I wanna just screw around  
><strong>**I don't wanna think about  
><strong>**What's gonna be after this  
><strong>**I wanna just live right now**

_(C'mon)_

**C'mon 'cause I know what I like  
><strong>**And you're looking just like my type  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

**Now, don't even try to deny  
><strong>**We're both going home satisfied  
><strong>**Let's go for it, just for tonight  
><strong>**C'mon, c'mon, c'mon**

The Warblers looked pretty pleased with themselves when the song ended, Kendrick giving Kurt a rather rough clap on the back, but Wes was still frowning. "No, no, no, it's all wrong. The harmonies are fantastic, the song choice excellent, but the combination… dismal." That sentence had to be another one of those things that only made sense in Wes' head. "We have little time before Regionals, there can't be this disconnect. The number one thing we should decide on is not arrangement, or even songs, but length of the performance. The New Directions performed two songs at Sectionals, we only performed one. Even though our numbers involve more intricate planning, we have been working as a unit for several years with very little in the way of addition." Kurt didn't take that personally. "We should be able to plan numbers with ease, and thus we should expand the length of our performances. All in favor?"

The vote was nearly unanimous, so Wes banged his gavel and David scribbled down the quick tally in his little book of 'minutes,' which he was supposed to have read at the beginning of the rehearsal. Apparently, Wes had made so many rules for himself, he was starting to slip. "Now the question is two or three songs. All of two…"

* * *

><p>The Warblers had almost finished deciding on all the details of Regionals that <em>weren't<em> song choice (thankfully they didn't have to argue over wardrobe, or they'd never get anything done. After witnessing an hour of Warbler democracy, Kurt could understand why Wes acted like a dictator at times. He was much more efficient), when David, Wes' personal time clock, gestured abstractly to Kurt. When Kurt raised an eyebrow, Wes impatiently said, "Kurt, it's three fifteen. You are dismissed." Kurt nodded to the council as he stood up, ignoring the whisper from fellow Warblers and heading out of rehearsal hall, trying to remember the most efficient route to the parking lot. He had been at Dalton for months, but he still had a little trouble navigating when his mind was elsewhere. He shoved the sheet music for _C'Mon_ in his messenger bag absentmindedly, since David had never collected it after Wes scrapped the song.

Rachel was waiting for him at the Lima Bean, and Kurt chose not to comment on her outfit. Red sweater, black-and-red skirt, and black stockings with black flats, it wasn't the worst thing she had ever worn. Though the red coat with fur edging was a little excessive, both for the red and for the temperature in early March. "Hello, darling," Rachel said with a smile, giving him a hug as he joined her in line.

"Hello, Rach," he said, allowing himself to be hugged and then insisting on paying for both coffees. It was the least he could do when she was about to get her heart broken.

"So, you said he comes this way at three thirty," Rachel began as they sat down at their table.

"Like clockwork, for his post-rehearsal medium drip," Kurt relied, clutching his own coffee with both hands and trying not to get nervous. There was no way Rachel and Blaine had chemistry.

"I just can't wait to lay one on him," Rachel said, far too excitedly considering she was talking to someone who _also_ had feelings for Blaine, and Kurt knew from experience that gay men did _not_ like kissing girls with lipgloss on. It was sticky and strange.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Rachel." In every way. "I mean, I don't mean to be a scold, but I don't want you to get hurt either. There's no victory in this for me either way." He loved Rachel, despite her attitudes about… well, everything, and she was finally happy again after Finn, something he was actively trying to take away from her. Maybe he didn't have the right to call her a bad friend.

"Who cares about you, buddy?" Okay, maybe there would be a _little_ bit of victory in this for him. "I may get a new boyfriend out of this who can keep up with me vocally and, in the future, give me vaguely Eurasian-looking children."

Before Kurt could comment on the likelihood of Blaine _ever_ giving Rachel children, the man in question walked through the door. "There he is, dreamy as ever."

"Okay. Wish me luck," Rachel said with a smile, and she looked so excited. Kurt's stomach was in knots.

Rachel strode right up to Blaine in line with confidence, and Kurt could only see her back but he was sure she was smiling all the way. "Hey, Rachel. What's going on? We-" Blaine managed to say, and he looked genuinely happy to see her. Maybe there really wouldn't be any victory in this for Kurt. He was ending _both_ of his friends' happiness by… by what, pushing them to be honest about what was going on?

He needed to stop overthinking it. Luckily, Rachel didn't give him the chance to do anything stupid, like object, kissing Blaine square on the mouth with no build-up, grabbing his shoulders. Kurt took a sip of his untouched coffee as he waited, acknowledging that he had absolutely no control over the outcome of the action.

Rachel was the one who pulled away, and Blaine looked kind of awestruck. Kurt took a deep breath. "Huh." Blaine was nodding. "Yup. I'm gay." Kurt held in a sigh of relief and a smile. "One hundred percent gay. Thank you so much for clearing that up for me, Rachel." Kurt couldn't see his best friend's expression, but he was sure it was devastated. Only Blaine could make breaking someone's heart sound so positive. "Listen, save my space in line, will you? I gotta go hit the restroom." Rachel just stood there, not saying anything as Blaine left. As soon as Blaine turned his back, Kurt stood up to talk to Rachel.

"That was hard, wasn't it?" Kurt asked.

"Are you kidding?" Rachel looked similarly awestruck, and everyone's facial expressions were being very misleading today. "That was amazing. I am speechless." What? Had she not gotten the message? Or was Blaine just a phenomenal kisser? "I just had a relationship with a guy who turned out to be gay. That is songwriting _gold_! _Oh_!" Rachel grabbed Kurt and kissed him on the cheek. "Okay. I have to go compose, but thank you. Thank you!" she squeaked as she walked out, and… what just happened?

"Talk to you later," he called out just before Rachel left, and she turned and waved at him again before rushing off. "And that is why I love her, I guess."

"Oh, hey," Blaine said awkwardly as he returned from the restroom, and shoot. "I… Rachel just…"

"I was here," was the stupidest thing Kurt could have said at the time, so of course he said it.

"Oh, so you…" Blaine didn't finish the question, but he obviously expected an answer.

"Technically, it was her idea."

"I see," Blaine said slowly. "We… we should talk. Do you want…"

"I already have coffee," Kurt replied, gesturing to the table he and Rachel had abandoned, which still had two coffees sitting on it.

"Oh. So this is why…"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll grab my coffee and we… we can talk." Kurt nodded, mentally groaning at the awkwardness between them which had come back at full force. He threw out Rachel's coffee (she was in such a songwriting frenzy Kurt was sure she wouldn't come back for it… and why was she writing songs anyway? a new facet of the old crazy?), and then sat back down at the table, waiting for Blaine.

* * *

><p>Blaine got his coffee and sat down just as Kurt was finishing up his own. Blaine took a sip, but neither of them knew how to start the conversation and silence descended over the table, the awkwardness tangible even in the loud coffee shop. "I'm sorry," Blaine finally said, and so it began.<p>

"So am I," Kurt said with a sigh. "I know what happened with Rachel was… confusing, for you, but you have to understand how frustrating it is for me."

"How frustrating what is?" Blaine asked, and apparently they were being frank in this conversation.

"You," Kurt answered. "You, all the time. You're frustrating and confusing and maddening and… I didn't think it could get any worse until you did something like this. And with _Rachel_, of all people."

"Why does that bother you? She's one of your best friends!" Blaine objected, and okay, they both needed to cool down a little.

Kurt took a deep breath. "As you know, Rachel and I haven't always been friends. But more than that, Rachel is the person I compete with for _everything_, solos, attention, and _especially_ boys. After the first time you two met at Sectionals, I gloated to her on the phone that you would never be interested in her, the one person with whom there was no contest."

"I'm not your property, Kurt." Blaine managed to say something very passionate in a very calm voice. "I know you're my connection to Rachel and the New Directions, and we're very close, unusually close, but I'm not your property, or your play-thing, and I can't just be around to be the foundation for your self-esteem and your pride."

"I know that," Kurt said, even though he also knew that was exactly what he had been doing with Blaine, placing all his pride on the fact that Blaine liked him more than anyone else, "and I'm sorry, but you have to understand that it hurts to hear Rachel talk about dating you and singing with you and the mildly-Eurasian children you'll have together!"

The conversation paused for a moment as Blaine seemed to process that. "I'm not even going to ask."

"You probably shouldn't," Kurt murmured, because he hadn't intended to slip that into their conversation.

"Kurt, you're my best friend, and I love you, and I will do _anything_ to support you and help you and make you feel better, and I hope you knew all of that, but the fact of the matter is that it has to be a two-way street. I know you couldn't understand, but I was struggling, and I needed you to be there." Blaine sighed. "Look, I lashed out, during our first conversation-"

"And so did I," Kurt admitted.

"And I shouldn't have dragged Karofsky into this, but I was just trying to hurt you. And I don't want to hurt you, Kurt! I don't, but you hurt me too, and you know that." Kurt didn't say anything, because there were only so many variations of confirmations. "I told you, right after we first met, when you told me that story about Brittany, that I wasn't going to look down on your for dating a girl once. Those _exact_ words, Kurt, but you did exactly that to me, even if you were more bothered by the particular girl I chose."

"I… I don't know what you want me to say, Blaine," Kurt said finally, trying to process Blaine's series of speeches. "Do you expect me to justify what I said to you? Because I can't, and I'm sorry that everything got out of hand and that I got angry and 'lashed out,' like you said, but…" Kurt had so many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to put out in the open, but that he couldn't, not without damaging what he was trying to rebuild. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm really sorry."

"That's all you have to say?" Blaine asked softly, and Kurt was willing to bet his best friend knew he had so many things he wanted to say.

"Yes, that's all I have to say."

For some reason, Blaine started chuckling. Before Kurt could ask why, the tenor explained himself, "We are a _terrible_ couple. I mean, absolutely awful. We just… we can't seem to stop hurting each other! You've hurt me, and I know I hurt you more than you're wiling to admit." Kurt didn't say anything. "God, what is wrong with us?"

"We can't seem to stop… stumbling into land mines," Kurt said, because that was the best explanation he could come up with. Blaine had a point, even if he didn't want to think too hard on that fact.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I really am. I shouldn't have accused you of being biphobic and I shouldn't have brought Karofsky into this. I just… we're too good at hurting each other, we just know too much."

"I'm sorry, too," Kurt said honestly, even though nothing really felt resolved. "I'm sorry that I was so unsupportive of your confusion about Rachel."

"And I'm sorry I hurt you." Blaine left the comment completely open-ended. "Can I ask you something, though?"

"Of course."

"Do you really think that being bisexual is just a way guys in high school creep back into the closet, beard in hand?"

"I think you're using too many metaphors," Kurt said, making Blaine smile, "and… I don't know. I mean, yes, there was a point in my life when I thought bisexual was just being too afraid to admit one's sexuality one way or another, but then I think about David and… there are obviously other people like him, people that are conflicted in that way and try to hide in their straightness, so… maybe it's really the opposite? I don't know, Blaine, I don't really understand it."

"I kind of got that," Blaine said with a chuckle, and then winced when Kurt kicked him under the table. "I deserved that."

"You did."

"Maybe you should talk to David about it. I'm sure he would be better at explaining it to you, considering he's actually bisexual."

"At least you're admitting that you're not."

"Shut up. Another coffee? We can talk about that terrible number."

"Yes, please."

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine spent a while talking at the coffee shop, and while Kurt felt better about what had happened at the beginning of the week, he still wasn't sure that anything was really <em>resolved<em>. Maybe things would never be resolved. They had dinner at the Warbler table, and everyone seemed relieved that they were talking again.

Blaine walked Kurt to his dorm after dinner and gave him a hug that was maybe a little too tight and a little too long to be casual, but Kurt didn't ask and Blaine didn't offer. So Kurt shut his door on his best friend and sighed, leaning against it.

"The great Klaine wars are over?" Chris asked. "Wes will be pleased."

"Why will Wes be pleased?"

"Because now he can hang up the banner. Before, it would have just made things awkward."

"I'm not even going to ask." Kurt sighed and leaned a little heavier against the door, just thinking through his conversation with Blaine. "Do you think there's such a thing as truly bisexual? Being equally attracted to both men and women?"

"Isn't that kind of a given? I mean, it's the 'B' in your precious LGBT," Chris teased.

"Just answer the question, Barbon."

"Shouldn't you talk to David about this kind of thing?" Chris asked, and for the first time since they had become roommates, he sounded a little uncomfortable with the question.

"I'm just asking for your opinion, Chris," Kurt said coolly, hoping that he wasn't pushing Chris. His roommate tolerated a lot of things going to Dalton and dealing with all of the Warblers, there was no need to add Kurt to the list.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't see why not. There are a lot of things weirder than the idea of someone being equally attracted to both men and women, and yeah, I'm sure a lot of people say that just because they're questioning, like Blaine, or some people that use it as a stepping stone to coming out because immediately identifying as gay can be scary, but there are also probably a lot of people that feel that way and try to repress one side of themselves because choosing to act straight or gay is easier, right? More accepted, either way? Plus, it wouldn't be hard for them to act one way or another, to feel legitimized, even if they're not being honest."

"You are being far too logical."

"You're supposed to be logical about this stuff, Kurt. If people were logical about LGBT stuff, the Bible wouldn't really be an issue."

"Ignoring that you call LGBT issues in society 'stuff,' I suppose you have a point."

"I mean, I don't buy into the whole 'everyone's bisexual a little bit' thing, because _no_, not everyone's bisexual. Imagine if that were true, there would be almost no gay relationships on the planet!"

"I… I don't follow."

"Okay, you're gonna slap me for this example, but imagine if Blaine were _actually_ bisexual, he would probably just chose the easy route and pretend to be straight. There are so many people who are so afraid of who they actually are, and so many people who are treated like dirt for being the way they are, that if there was a way out, if everyone really was bisexual and could pretend they're not anything different from 'normal,' there would be only a few strong enough to admit to same-sex feelings. Now, you could also make the argument that if everyone was bisexual and could acknowledge that fact, there would be no more homophobia period, but a lot of people would have to have identity crises and go against Biblical ways and… there will probably always be homophobia. Just like if everyone was biracial, there would still be racism, because some people will always think they're better than all others."

Kurt stared at his suddenly philosophical-roommate for a long time, and then shook his head. Not in negation, but just trying to clear it. "Christopher, you make me want to go to bed at seven thirty. You know that? I'm actually going to bed right now, just because of that speech."

"Probably a good thing, you're gonna be so mad when you see that banner, you'll need all your patience." Chris suddenly transformed from philosopher back to Kurt's normal roommate, leaning back, pulling out his laptop, and plugging in headphones. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris."

* * *

><p>Blaine knocked on Kurt's door at six thirty in the morning. Kurt was already awake, but he was kind of glad that he had gone to bed so early the previous night. The last week had been stressful, and he felt… recharged. "You'll never believe what the idiots have done now," was Blaine's opening comment when Kurt answered the door. "Come with me," he said, grabbing Kurt's hand and leading him down the hallway with no regard for the fact that he was in his pajamas.<p>

Blaine dragged Kurt all the way down to the entrance of their dorm, and pulled Kurt in a 180 with a flourish to show him the banner that had been so alluded to. '**Congratulations, Klaine, the Dalton Academy Warblers' Best Gay Couple of 2011!**'

Kurt stared up at the banner for a few minutes, then sighed. "No wonder they didn't want to put it up while we were fighting," was his only comment, and he alarmed himself by how accustomed he was to the antics at Dalton. The school was finally starting to feel like home, he mused to himself as he walked back up the stairs, leaving his best friend staring angrily at the banner.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it," Blaine was still fuming about the banner as they sat down to breakfast.<p>

"The question is really why it bothers you so much," Charlie said as he finished up his oatmeal, his diet having improved under the watchful eye of Wes.

"The question is how you're still surprised by what happens here," Kurt corrected as he sat down next to Charlie with his breakfast, slipping the crazy boy a piece of sausage while Wes wasn't looking, trying not to think about the hypothetical dog Finn was urging Burt to buy as he did so.

"The question is where you get custom-made banners," Thad said as he sat down next to Wevid to join their image of council solidarity. Thad began asking Wes questions about where he had gotten the banner, apparently hoping to get some for the basketball team for states, so Kurt turned to his best friend.

"I think I'm going to do it."

"You wanna be a little more specific before Charlie wakes up fully and has the chance to say 'wanky?'" Blaine asked coolly, having ignored Wes' diet restrictions all together and starting in on his pile of syrup-soaked pancakes.

"I think I'm going to ask David about bisexuality," Kurt clarified, and Blaine nodded, holding a hand over his mouth as he talked and ate simultaneously.

"I thig thas a goo ideah," Blaine said nonsensically. "Unhersaning ih awas beer."

"Finish your bite, I can wait," Kurt said, because even though he'd gotten the gist of the first part, he had no way of making sense of Blaine's sentence.

The countertenor waited patiently while Blaine chewed, swallowed, and then repeated his statement. "I think that's a good idea. Understanding is always better, especially for such a sensitive topic."

"I _swear_ you didn't say all of that the first time."

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "No, I didn't, but I think you should talk to him. I'm sure he would be happy to broaden your perspective."

"I mean, I would talk to Wes, because I know him a little better, but-"

"But you're not sure Wes actually identifies that way, despite his announcement," Blaine finished his sentence," and to be fair, I'm not sure either. Wes' relationship with the female species is long and complicated. Relax. David's not going to bite your head off. Frankly, I would be more afraid of Wes. He can be very protective of his Dave, who also isn't big on the definitions."

"You know, for someone who suggested I talk specifically to David, you're making it sound like a bad idea."

"I would talk to the both of them. Ignoring that slight awkwardness that comes with being alone in a room with a very tactile couple, I think talking to both of them will give you better perspective."

"I hate it when you're right," Kurt said, getting up from the table and approaching the council. He ignored the curious glances of many Warblers and focused on Wes and David. "May I have an audience with you guys later? I have a question?"

"Sure. Thad, when are you-"

Kurt interrupted the Head Warbler at his misconception, probably not the best idea considering David's expression. "Not the council, the two of you. I have a… personal question for you."

Wes looked ready to ask, but David squeezed his boyfriend's hand and smiled at Kurt. "Sure. How about we talk in the secret room, third floor of the library, in about half an hour?" Kurt nodded, thanked David, and walked back to Blaine.

"I don't suppose you know where the secret room on the third floor of the library is?" he asked, noticing Wes and David leave quite a bit early and not thinking too hard on why they might have wanted the delay.

"Oh, grasshopper, you have so much to learn."

* * *

><p>With Blaine's directions saved on his phone, Kurt navigated through Dalton's winding library, walking up the South stairs to the third floor, finding the eighth row of bookshelves on his left side, and then following the row from the beginning to where it turned to a tunnel, trying not to wonder exactly how stable the structure was. Supposedly, people came up to Dalton's secret rooms all the time, they couldn't be a hazard.<p>

Kurt found the room after a three minute walk, marked X32, and walked in. David and Wes were already there, and they had pulled three chairs into a circle. When Kurt walked in, they were pouring over the book David had that contained the official minutes of the Warblers.

"I think we made a good call with the two songs, but the problem is that we don't want to make the set list too repetitive, in style or tone. I know Blaine loves his pop music, but we should do something a little different, while trying to keep away from music traditionally covered in a cappella versions…" Wes was saying, but David stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Stow Regionals, sweetie. What's up, Kurt?"

"I wanted to… I'm not sure how much you guys know about my argument with Blaine."

"It involved a woman, a close friend of yours if I've heard correctly, and Blaine questioning his sexuality… a sentiment I'm almost positive you don't share," Wes said coolly, both informing Kurt and trying to figure him out all at once.

"Blaine thought that he might be bisexual, and during our argument, I realized I don't really understand the topic, and now I'm trying to."

"That's very admirable of you, Kurt," Wes said with a slightly condescending smile. "I will admit that I'm in a hurry, I have to meet with Thad and my banner guy in a few minutes, but-"

"Wes, stop talking," David said with a little smile, a statement only he could make and not be killed for. "Do you have a specific question, or are you just trying to understand the general…" David trailed off, gesturing for Kurt to sit, since he had been standing only a little out of the doorway, clutching the strap of his messenger bag out of sheer awkwardness.

"More the latter," Kurt said as he sat down, leaning his messenger bag against the leg of his rather comfy chair.

"I know I may be a stereotype," Wes began, and clearly he was talking first, "but I shouldn't have identified myself as bisexual, because I am gay. I didn't love Alison, and while I can recognize a woman's beauty for the purposes of picking a girlfriend, I'm not attracted to them. If I was, I probably would have slept with Alison, regardless of my love for Dave. I used my announcement of bisexuality to the Warblers as a stepping stone, as a transition from one extreme to the other, because I was too afraid to… But this isn't about me," Wes corrected himself, clearly getting the vibe David had been throwing off throughout his speech. "I know a lot of people don't think there are actually bisexuals, and I don't know or care if you happen to be one of them. A common misconception is that people who come out as bisexual are on their way to either end of the spectrum, either ending up straight or gay. In our popular culture, you'll see that many people think women who have engaged in homosexual relationships are always going to go back to the dick at some point," David snorted at his boyfriend's phrasing, "and if you're a man who engages in a homosexual relationship, you're always going to be seen as gay, mostly because too many people see that as a derogatory… characteristic, and bad rumors stick longer than good ones. Many people see bisexuality as a trendy thing, something people do to attract attention." Wes put a hand on David's knee, but Kurt wasn't sure if it was comfort or solidarity. "A lot of people see bisexuals as not gay enough or not straight enough, or that they just can't make up their minds, and thus they're not really welcome in either community. But being bisexual is real, and it's difficult. It's often tough for people to understand because it's not strictly definable. There are no guidelines, no boxes to check off that define you one way or the other, but in the end, it's how you think of yourself and acknowledge your connections to other people, and it's very easy to find yourself having intimate connections with both men and women, and only trying to focus on one of the other in order to pigeon-hole yourself. But just because you're in a straight relationship or a gay relationship, doesn't mean that you are one or the other, and being bisexual isn't something to be abhorred or revered or scared of, it's just another way of being." At some point, Wes had stopped talking to Kurt and was directing all of his words at David, who was smiling lovingly. "And now," Wes said, taking his hand off David's knee and standing up, "I really should go." Wes leaned down to give his boyfriend a not-so-quick goodbye kiss, both of them muttering their usual chorus of 'I love you.'

"As you can see," David said with a smile once the door had closed behind Wes, "he's very supportive. And in his attempts to be very, _very_ supportive, I'm guessing he didn't answer anything you were wondering at all."

"Not really," Kurt admitted.

"So, let's talk." David leaned back casually in his chair. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, first, is that how you define yourself? Bisexual?"

"I would put myself at a four on the Kinsey scale, but as far as society goes, that's close enough to qualify as 'bisexual.'"

"I guess I just… have trouble believing that someone can be equally, one hundred percent equally, attracted to both men and women."

David nodded, and Blaine had been right. He was very nonjudgmental. "I can see why that's a difficult concept to wrap your head around, and I agree that most people probably tend to be more attracted to one gender or the other, but it's perfectly possible for one person to be attracted to both genders."

"I…"

"I can attest, personally, because I've _literally_ been in love with two people at the same time, two people of different genders. You know how much I love Wes, any idiot can see that, and according to rumor you've seen exactly how attracted I am to Wes." David grinned and Kurt tried to ignore the fact that he was blushing. "And I know you've never seen me with any of my girlfriends, but I've also been with women. And when you're talking about sexuality, you can't put intimate relationships and sexual ones in different boxes, because the fact of the matter it all boils down to who you want to be with, in any way."

"Before, I kind of saw bisexuality as a way for people who were facing adversity to duck back in the closet, but-"

"But it can be that!" David said. "I think a lot of the reason bisexuality has been so illegitimatized is because people use it as a way to deny their sexualities, or as a transition stage, like Wes did, or in a hundred other ways of trying to hide who they really are, and while that might be what's easiest for some people, it's also a difficult reality for others. I think it's possible a lot of people who claim to be bisexual also don't really understand it, and I don't blame you for not getting it. Believe me, it's taken me almost four years to fully wrap my head around it." David tilted his head and stared at Kurt for a moment. "Does that help?"

"I… yes, I guess. Yes, that does," he said decisively. "Thank you."

"No problem. How are you and Blaine, by the way?" Kurt sighed, and David chuckled. "Why does that seem like an actual answer?"

"Because it is," Kurt answered. "It always is."

"See you at rehearsal tomorrow," David said cheerfully as Kurt left the room, trying to mentally reverse the instructions Blaine had given him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, now, let me calm down some people. I'm not bisexual, and while I know a few bisexual people, I can't pretend to understand it, and I'm not trying to preach or persuade anyone. However, the only perspective that was presented on the show was Kurt's mild biphobia, so I wanted to present some different perspectives, mostly positive and forward-thinking ones. I apologize if I offended anyone, and that was not my intent, but Glee has completely been skating over the issue for years, and it is mentioned in both BIOTA and Sexy without being as thoroughly examined as homosexuality has been throughout the show. And none of these are necessarily my personal opinion. Chris' opinion is based on the testimony of a friend of mine, Wes' opinion is taken (almost word for word) from an interview with Noah Michelson (HuffPost Gay Voices Editor), and David's opinion is that of a bisexual person I know.**

**Also, I am happy to report that Noah Michelson also used the phrase 'gold star gay' in his interview, which may just be my favorite phrase ever. And for those of you who don't get the Glee reference, that's a personal problem you need to resolve.**

**Also, in the second scene, Chris speaks for all Glee fans and Kurt speaks for RIB, because no make up scene? Seriously? Why do issues just magically resolve themselves on television?**

**Also, I know I promised at least *someone* that I would start Sexy this chapter, but that didn't pan out, so Sexy will start next chapter, and hopefully it won't take too long to get through Sexy (which is another incident that requires a make-up scene never given to us), so we can get to the good stuff :) Oh, and don't worry about Charcas, that will be back in focus next chapter.**

**Also, it's been three weeks since I posted, so I will apologize. I am sorry. For some reason, I couldn't get past the first paragraph earlier, and then today I just whipped out a chapter. So, yay!**

**Also, I've used 'also' as the transition between every paragraph in these ridiculously long author's notes, so I apologize.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_The Lazy Song_' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)  
>'<em>Pink Houses<em>' by John (Cougar?) Mellencamp (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Tik Tok<em>' by Ke$ha (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>C'mon<em>' by Ke$ha

**Reviews are Love.**


	37. Charlie's Story

Charlie Shields began the day by vandalizing Wes' precious banner in the Dalton common room while he and his beloved boy toy were off talking to Kurt (who apparently planned to accost them about bisexuality, based on the Klaine conversation he had overheard). If it had been any other day, or any other week, Charlie would have changed the couple name from Klaine to Charcas, but he preferred not to think about Lucas at that moment, so instead he continued his normal goal of driving his best friend to insanity. With a pink Sharpie confiscated from Jeff's room (Charlie made himself a mental reminder to mock the blond boy about having one later), Charlie crowded the border of the banner with hearts and then wrote a little note wishing the happy couple happiness at the bottom, signing it with a flourish. Blaine was already mad about the banner, he couldn't wait until the tenor saw that.

Returning the commandeered stepping stool to the kitchen, Charlie duct-taped the pink Sharpie to Jeff's door with another little love note and skipped back to his own room. He deleted several text messages from booty calls, some innocent, some dirty enough to make a hooker blush, and turned off his phone. There was no one he wanted see on that particular Visiting Day, and he doubted Blaine was going to be dropping by to check on him. He and Kurt seemed to be back on good terms, though every second they refused to admit that they liked each other only made things more and more complicated. They were both absolutely ridiculous human beings.

The flip side of the fact that he would be abandoned by his best friend for Kurt today was that Blaine wasn't around to bother him about his personal problems, not that he had any. Lucas had clearly moved on, pulling away by focusing all his attentions on Kurt, and Charlie wouldn't be the kind of pathetic boyfriend who clung to a false hope until Lucas actually found someone else. The cheerleader hadn't called once, and if he was waiting for Charlie to call, he was going to be sadly disappointed. Charlie always had options, though his first choice had been alienated by a sobbing Kurt showing up at his door.

Hopping up on his freshly-made bed, closing his eyes and leaning back against his pillows, Charlie was dismayed when the blond boy popped unbidden into his mind. Yes, Lucas was gorgeous, but Charlie didn't want to think about him, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge his ex-boyfriend from his mind. Unfortunately, fate was a bitch, and the honorary Warbler's attempts to replace Lucas' image with something a little more helpful was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Blaine, can you please just go fuck Kurt and leave the rest of us the hell alone?" Charlie asked, annoyed, but that didn't stop his irritant of a best friend from knocking again. "And if Wes is mad, please tell him I only made _improvements_ to his boring-ass banner."

The door opened, Charlie opening his eyes to roll them, but he sat up for one reason: Blaine never walked in uninvited. Yes, Blaine flew to his room in times of trouble and pain, but he knocked and waited patiently like a good boy, something Charlie loved to tease him for. The only time he had ever barged in was to talk about… "_Oh_," was his only response when he saw the much-taller silhouette in his door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Lucas said with a soft smile, obviously inferring Charlie's plans from his pose on the bed.

"Why are you here?" he asked, trying not to sound cranky.

"Your phone is off," Lucas said quietly, as if Charlie didn't know that.

"You didn't call me anyway."

"I hadn't figured out what was going on; I didn't know what to say." Lucas invited himself in, sitting on the end of Charlie's bed.

"And now your transcendent wisdom has told you what?" Charlie snapped, not wanting to talk to Lucas anymore than he wanted to talk to Blaine.

"Do you remember that day we made up?" Lucas asked calmly, never thrown or deterred by Charlie's attitude or pessimism. "A few days, maybe a week after you told me you loved me for the first time, and we-"

"I remember," Charlie said quickly, because he didn't really need to think about their good times. His allergies would start acting up.

"You told me you didn't know how to handle being in love, and all I asked of you was that you wouldn't freak out." Charlie stared down his ex, unimpressed. "And that's what you're doing, isn't it?"

"Really? You're blaming this on me?" Charlie demanded, suddenly angrier than he had been all week, sitting up and glaring at Lucas, who was still standing by the door. "The fact that you're so obviously tired of me that you're started hitting on _Kurt_ of all people again is now somehow my fault?"

"Of course not," Lucas said, far too calm in the face of Charlie's accusations, coming to stand in front of him. "This is most definitely my fault, your little freak-out."

"This is not some 'little freak-out,' Lucas, don't try to make me sound like the irrational one!" One second Charlie was yelling at his stupid, unnaturally serene ex-boyfriend, and the next Lucas had him back against the sheets and was kissing him and _oh_. "Get off me!" Charlie said once his wits returned, putting his hands on Lucas' unfairly firm chest to push the blond boy away.

"I love you, Charlie," was Lucas' only reply, and suddenly all the strength in Charlie's arms was gone; he clung to Lucas' shirt, rather than pushing him away.

"What?"

"I love you," Lucas said again, "and I know it's long overdue, but-_mm_." Charlie grabbed the stupid, idiotic cheerleader and kissed him hard.

"I hate you, you know that," he pulled away from the kiss to mutter against the moron's lips before kissing him again.

"I'm well aware," Lucas said with a big smile, standing up from their awkward entanglement and pulling Charlie up with him, wrapping his arms around the honorary Warbler. "You're too skinny."

"Shut up," Charlie snapped, burying his face in Lucas' chest. "I love you," he mumbled.

"I love you, too."

"Can we be a couple again?"

"I wasn't aware we broke up," was Lucas' surprised-sounding comment and… uh-oh.

"Um…" Charlie pulled away, and his face must have looked guilty because Lucas sighed.

"You slept with someone else?" Lucas' question was met by a jerky nod. "You are _really_ lucky that I love you, you whore," he said, pulling his boyfriend close, and Charlie didn't mind because he knew the cheerleader didn't really mean it. "And there's nothing between me and Kurt besides some cheerleading embarrassments."

"You have to tell me about all of those later," Charlie said, thinking about all the blackmail he could do with those stories, and Lucas smiled at him, looking completely and ridiculously besotted. "What?"

"Nothing," Lucas said, giving him a kiss on the nose. "I can't believe you thought I liked Kurt again. That would be as absurd as you dating Blaine." Again, Charlie's face must have given him away. "Is there something else you would like to tell me?"

"Well, you're well aware I was the school slut for a few years and during that period I slept with Blaine on an occasion or two. I also may have had a little, itty-bitty, tiny thing for him." Lucas' mouth tightened into a line. "But that was a lone time ago!" Charlie tried to assure his apparently-worried boyfriend, who very appropriately burst out laughing.

"You really are something." Lucas shook his head as he regained his composure. "I love you so much."

"You know, I love you, too, but I was thinking…" Charlie said, pulling out of the embrace and sitting back on his bed, "when I told you for the first time, there was… not exactly build up, but at least some explanation after I blurted it out, and we were at a hotel, and there were flowers. Admittedly, you brought them, but still. I gave you a whole speech about how charming and tolerant you are and how you're the only person whose ever made me _want_ to be monogamous, and we had sex for the first time after. All very romantic."

"I remember," Lucas said with a smile, sitting down next to him.

"Yes, and while the fact that you _finally_ blurted it out is very sweet and everything, this isn't exactly _romantic_."

Lucas stared at him for a long moment. "Excuse me?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to go full Elliot Reid on your ass," Charlie said with a sigh, struggling to keep a straight face as he teased his boyfriend. "I gave you a whole speech about love and monogamy in possibly the most romantic setting we've ever been involved in, you said those three ginormous words quickly so I would stop being mad at you. I think you should at least put as much effort into it as I did."

"Fine," Lucas said with a shrug. "Charlie, when I first met you-"

"Nice try, but not right now," Charlie said with a laugh. "Speech or not, my dorm room after a fight is _not_ romantic." Charlie climbed onto his lap, straddling the cheerleader. "Besides, I have a much better use for that mouth at the moment."

* * *

><p>Blaine's first reaction at the lunch table when Charlie walked up hand-in-hand with his boyfriend (Lucas expertly balancing both of their trays on one arm thanks to his spell as a waiter) was to roll his eyes. "I told you he loved you."<p>

"Shut up, Anderson," Charlie said as he settled next to Blaine, making sure to not leave enough room for Kurt. Couldn't have Blaine messing everything up again, they had only been tolerating each other for about a day. "Don't make me wet willie your ass." Blaine scooted away as much as was physically possible.

"You're disgusting," was Blaine's reaction, and while that particular combination of words hadn't been Charlie's _intent_, it was better than he ever could have dreamed up.

"Now, that's just unnecessarily vulgar," Nick said with a roll of his eyes, but Jeff was grinning.

"So, Lucas, I have a question for you." Lucas head obediently turned toward David as he sat down next to Charlie, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's waist automatically. "Exactly how many times were you dropped on your head as a baby?"

"David, do you _really_ want to drag bad romantic decisions into this conversation?" Charlie asked, staring the African-American down. "Because I don't think you want to go down that road with me."

"I can't believe you just referred to your own boyfriend's love for you as a bad romantic decision," Blaine muttered, making the people within earshot laugh. Lucas was struggling to keep a straight face.

"I think the way you protect him from us is so cute," Kurt said as he sat down between David and Michael, just a few seats away from Blaine but far enough to make the tenor gaze longingly at him. Seriously, what was wrong with those two?

"I think your ass is so cute," was Charlie's automatic reaction.

"I'm going to guess somewhere in the hundreds," David answered his own question.

"Oh, go lick Wes'-"

"Babe, it's fine," Lucas cut him off before Charlie could finish his sentence, but that didn't stop Michael from wrinkling his nose and the table virgin blushed. "I think I retained enough brain cells to mock someone who was dropped on their head thousands of times all by myself," he said, at first shyly and then gaining confidence when other members of the table grinned.

"I hate you," David said, but Charlie could tell Lucas had earned the council member's respect.

"So does the emotional revelation of being in one hundred percent requited love mean we'll be seeing a new hair color?" Blaine teased as he wolfed down pizza like a champ.

"Nah," Charlie replied, pulling out his phone and examining his reflection. "I think I like the hair."

"I do, too," Lucas muttered, running his fingers through Charlie's navy tips. "It looks more like you than your natural hair color."

"Then I think I'll keep it," Charlie said with a smile, earning himself a soft kiss, and then he realized the entire table was staring at them. "Problem?" he asked the Warblers at large.

"Oh, my God, Charlie Shields has a soft side," Jeff said in shock.

"A very weird soft side," Nick muttered next to him.

"To be honest, I was just surprised that after making up you two climbed out of bed long enough to visit with us," David said with a grin, and Lucas rolled his eyes. Wes leaned in to mutter something in his boyfriend's ear, making him laugh, and then tapped Thad and obviously started talking about council things.

"Will we be doing another impromptu number before Regionals?" Blaine asked the council, obviously eager to sing again, and Charlie turned back to his boyfriend with a roll of his eyes.

"I apologize," he said to the cheerleader, "they can't talk about anything but show choir for more than a few minutes. To be honest, I used to hate them before I realized their interludes were quite interesting."

"And you met Blaine," Lucas teased, but his eyes were warm.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, you're killing my rep," Charlie said, focusing his eyes on Lucas' chin rather than the big green ones staring back at him.

"Somehow I think you'll survive," Lucas replied dryly.

* * *

><p>Since homework was an occupation meant only for juniors and Charlie no longer believed in it, he and Lucas took a walk through Dalton. "I cannot imagine going here," Lucas said, looking around as they walked hand-in-hand through the mostly-abandoned Dalton building.<p>

"It's not as stuffy as it looks," Charlie said with a sniff as he looked around as well. All chandeliers, wood panelling, floral wallpaper, and hardwood floors covered by long, intricately-designed, extremely-expensive rugs, the senior could see why Lucas found the place boring. "Remember Valentine's Day?" he asked, grinning at his boyfriend, because while he wasn't a huge fan of the overly-sentimentalized, card-company-based holiday, the true lack of decorum among Dalton boys was only visible to outsiders when the walls were pink.

"Yes," Lucas said with a chuckle. "I remember you neglected to tell me when you suggested I send a thank you card to Kurt that it would be delivered by a man in a pink and gold toga."

"Details," Charlie dismissed the cheerleader's statement, because that had been entirely worth the ridiculous price. He was just sad he had missed the expression on the virgin's face.

"That wasn't what I meant though," Lucas said with no prefacing words indicating to what he was referring. Charlie raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean this school is _incredible_!"

"McKinley doesn't quite measure up after visiting?" Lucas' only answer was a snort. "Good. That means we get to keep Kurt then."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Lucas sing-songed with a teasing smile. "However, I _have_ learned my lesson regarding talking about Kurt," he teased, "so what's been happening here?"

"Wes is being even more of a terror than usual. He keeps analyzing everyone's diets and he _won't_ stop telling me that I need to eat more!" Charlie griped.

"You do," the perfect boyfriend said, "you're too skinny."

"Shut up, broken record, you love it," was Charlie's automatic reply.

"Aw, look at them," Lucas said as they walked by one of the cafeterias. Kurt and Blaine were inside having coffee and laughing. The awkwardness was obviously still there, Charlie could see it, but whatever their road block was, it remained hidden, Klaine acting like they always did. Lucas immediately added, "Sorry."

"They're such idiots," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes as they continued walking, missing the end of a McKinley anecdote about someone named Puckerman and his (pitiful in Charlie's opinion) attempts to woo Kurt's best friend. "When do you have to leave?" Charlie asked his least favorite, but inevitable, question.

"Soon," was Lucas' very sad answer. "I have to be home for dinner." Lucas' parents were a special sort. They weren't boring, like Charlie's. Rather, they were a little too far on the other end of the spectrum. Apparently, Lucas' official outing as swinging both ways…

"Wait a second," Charlie interrupted his own musings. "Why didn't Kurt ask _you_ about being bisexual?"

Lucas considered the question for a moment. "Maybe he didn't want to make you angry by talking to me," he suggested, "or maybe he knows I didn't struggle with my sexuality. I realized, accepted, shut up, and continued life, dating on both sides of the aisle." Charlie laughed.

Anyway, Lucas came out to his parents by introducing them to Charlie using the words 'my boyfriend,' a title he hadn't approved at the time. Mr. and Mrs. Montressor hadn't even been phased, Mrs. Montressor giving him a hug and Mr. Montressor asking him about Dalton. They were a bit eccentric though, probably explaining why Lucas was so adept at handling Charlie's crazy. The proof was that immediately following his generic question about Dalton, Mr. Montressor asked if they used condoms. Lucas had blushed and spluttered that they weren't having sex, earning a "Sure, honey," from his mother, who then went off to cook. Charlie then had a conversation with Mr. Montressor about the pros and cons of condoms in a monogamous gay relationship, through which Lucas buried his head in his hands and didn't say a word.

The night had only gotten better.

However, they did have certain rules about Lucas being home. The Cheerio could stay on Friday nights, but he had to be home at a different time every Saturday, the logic being that if he stayed over on Saturday, he would be too tired to do homework on Sunday. Which was rational, but also terribly unfair.

"So soon?" Charlie asked him as they continued walking. "What time is dinner?"

"Is this you admitting you miss me when I'm gone?" Lucas asked teasingly, and Charlie rolled his eyes. "Careful, you might ruin your reputation."

"You already did that."

"Considering your former reputation, isn't that kind of a good thing?" Lucas' tone was gentle, as if Charlie would actually be offended.

"I hate you."

"I love you, too, Charlie," Lucas said calmly, and damn if that didn't make Charlie's heart attempt for Artistic Gymnastics Olympic gold. And judging by the bastard's smug expression, he knew that.

"Would you just tell me what time you're leaving already?"

* * *

><p>After Charlie had disgusted everyone in the lobby by saying goodbye to Lucas, he wandered back to the Warbler dorm in search of entertainment. Blaine was in the lounge on the second floor, tutoring that evil freshman in math, so Charlie sauntered upstairs in search for his not-boyfriend. He found Kurt upstairs in his dorm, sans roommate, with the door open. Taking this measure of temperature-control as an invitation, he immediately made himself comfortable on the countertenor's bed, leaning back against his pillows.<p>

"May I help you?" Kurt asked, his tone a little rude, obviously trying to complete some idiotic physics assignment.

"No, I'm good," Charlie said, relaxing on his bed. "If you need help with that physics, I would ask just about anyone but Blaine. Math gives him mental spasms." Kurt just rolled his eyes and ignored the senior, going back to his homework.

Charlie had almost gotten lost in his thoughts when Kurt's phone rang. Kurt picked it up without looking. "Hello?" The voice on the other line immediately started talking, and Charlie couldn't make out any of the words, but the pitch was high and the stream was endless. "Oh, hi, Rachel," Kurt said, rather sarcastically. "Lovely to hear from you too." The words hadn't stopped.

"Hi, Rachel!" Charlie called out, and he heard the stream stop, then the pitch of the words changed.

"Yes. Yes. Okay, I just _love_ having conversations with two crazy people at a time," Kurt said into the phone before pulling it away from his ear and placing it on speaker.

"_So this is the famous Charlie!"_ came a tiny voice from the tinny speakers.

"In the flesh," Charlie said, gesturing to himself even though Rachel couldn't see him. "And this is the infamously annoying Rachel Barbra Berry?" Kurt quickly clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

"_I…_" Rachel seemed at a loss for words, which was the effect Charlie tended to have on people the first time he met them. It was a wonderful deterrent for roommates.

"How did your Ke$ha performance go?" Charlie called out, still rather comfortable on the bed.

"_Kurt, how does he know about that_?" Rachel demanded.

"Don't ask me, Wes is the only reason I know," Kurt said, sounding rather happy about his innocence.

"And Santana is the only reason Wes knew," Charlie called out. Kurt mouthed 'she's gonna _kill_ you,' probably referring to Santana, but Charlie shrugged. Let her try, she wouldn't be the first. "Anyway, how _did_ _Tik Tok_ go during Alcohol Awareness Week?"

"_I swear Santana's _trying_ to sabotage to club, as if she didn't fail enough at that last year. I thought she claimed to care about the New Directions, but here she is feeding insider information to our biggest competition for Regionals-_"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Charlie murmured, making Kurt smile.

"_Like she _wants_ us to lose and not be able to go to Nationals and possibly be shut down by Principal Figgins, because even though everyone seems to have forgotten that, the agreement Mr. Schuester made last year and Miss Sylvester only extended for one year is still hanging over our heads! I can't believe-_"

"You know, I'm very sorry," Charlie interrupted her. "When I asked, I wasn't aware that you spoke in soliloquies. I'm going to ask one more time: how did the performance go?"

"_It was terrible!_" Rachel began immediately. "_It was an absolute disaster. I rightfully informed everyone that it was a Broadway tradition for nervous performers to have a cocktail before going on stage, but Brittany drank too much and _puked on me_ mid-song, while Santana spewed out over the stage and audience. It was absolutely horrible and disgusting and I'm never drinking again._" Kurt rolled his eyes at the proclamation.

"I'm guessing Principal Figgins didn't like that?" Kurt asked, scribbling away at his homework as his crazy best friend talked.

"_Au contraire!" _she announced with unnecessary volume and flair. "_He thought we were acting and using special effects and he _loved_ it! He said it would be the perfect thing to discourage students from drinking, showing the negative effects and scaring kids away from drinking, said no one had shown up drunk to school that day for the first time in weeks, and offered us discounted frozen yogurt! At least he was right about something_." At that point, Charlie was so confused by her spiel he had absolutely no idea what the naive principal was right about.

"Kids were showing up drunk?" Charlie asked. "Man, I miss public school."

"_Mr. Schuester was less impressed though, and made us promise not to drink until Nationals, comparing us to prizefighters._"

"Sounds like a Mr. Schuester lecture," Kurt said. "Can't say I miss those." Despite his words and his sarcastic tone, there was somewhat of a nostalgic smile on his face, and Charlie was starting to think that Lucas was right. They shouldn't be too certain that they had won Kurt's talent permanently.

"_However, he was very sweet and did offer us his phone number for times of distress, imploring us to call him if we ever fall off the wagon. Want me to forward it to you?"_

"Rachel, I don't drink," Kurt said coolly. "I've been drunk exactly one time in my life, and Catholic school isn't like it is in _bare_. We don't sit around sharing swings of unblessed Church wine from chalices on altars."

"Why don't we?" Charlie asked, because that sounded like a fantastic idea to him. They would have to get the altar out of the basement though.

"_Yes, but when you come back to McKinley, Mr. Schuester will expect you to take the pledge as well. He's also become very serious about not drinking, after what happened_."

"Oh, do tell," Charlie said eagerly, because McKinley sounded ten times as interesting as Dalton, Lucas' envy be damned.

"_He was drunk and clearly intended to call Miss Pillsbury, but ended up leaving the message for her on Coach Sylvester's voicemail, talking about how he loved her food-related compulsions and something about riding a bull that sounded extremely suggestive and… it was rather creepy actually_."

"Says the girl who had a crush on him," Kurt teased with a smile as he shut his physics book.

"_I was young and naive!"_ Rachel objected vehemently.

"Still are, by the sound of it," Charlie said loud enough for the phone to pick it up.

"_Anyway, Mr. Schuester was humiliated, and I'm guessing Miss Pillsbury was, too. She's taken over the celibacy club, so we had our first meeting in over a year on Friday_."

"Wasn't your last meaning that time Finn accidentally popped the balloon?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the phone as he pulled out even more homework.

"Do I even need to tell you how suggestive that sounds?"

"_That was the last meeting I attended, the one when Quinn was praising the pervert who doubtlessly invented the Cheerios' skirts. The last actual meeting was before Quinn announced her pregnancy to the school._" McKinley was a weird place.

"The tight skirts or the pleated ones?" Kurt asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Every moment-"

"_Is an opportunity for fashion_," Rachel completed. "_Yes, we know Kurt. And the pleated ones. Quinn used to believe it was all about the teasing and not about the pleasing, which worked fantastically for her as I recall_."

"Aren't you two supposed to be friends now?"

"_She's seeing Finn again_," Rachel complained.

"Yes, yes, I knew that, but no bringing up Beth. That was enough of an ordeal last year. We don't need to push it. Figuratively or, dear God, literally." Charlie didn't get the joke but Rachel started laughing.

"_Well, I'm sure Blaine would have enjoyed that performance. We've always been so fantastic at assemblies_."

"I don't want to talk about Blaine," Kurt said gently, suggesting that there was still more going on under the surface with Klaine. "And I certainly don't want to talk about our collective near sexual assault of poor Finnegan." Rachel giggled. "How did your Celibacy Club meeting go?"

"_Miss Pillsbury is awkward as usual even using the word sex, but other than that it was fantastic. A little small, perhaps, but we're working on it. We're celling chastity charms! Little lock and key necklaces, they're adorable. Do you want one_?" Oh, dear God. Charlie started laughing so hard he hit the floor rather painfully.

"I think I'll pass, Rachel," Kurt said, turning to look at Charlie with disdain. "I think Charlie's reaction pretty much sums up how Dalton in general would react to me wearing around a key to my proverbial 'lock.' And I'm not a big fan of jewelry besides."

"_It would support the Celibacy Club at the school!_" Rachel continued her sales pitch as Charlie hauled himself back up onto Kurt's bed, laying upside-down on it, head by the end of the bed, head perched on his hands as he stared at the phone.

"And who else is in this Celibacy Club of yours?" Kurt asked. "_Please_ don't tell me you guilted my pushover of a step-brother into it, you know he doesn't believe in celibacy. He's a teenage boy!"

"_It's just Quinn and I at the moment._"

"You and Quinn?"

"_Yes._"

"In a room together?"

"_Yes._"

"Alone?"

"_Yes._"

"No wonder Miss Pillsbury feels uncomfortable."

"_I am perfectly capable of cooperating with Quinn. She is my friend and teammate, and I will not let Finn get between us._"

"You just insulted… you know what? Never mind," Kurt sounded a little short with his best friend.

"So how much are these necklaces?" Charlie called out, and Kurt looked at him curiously.

"_The cost for the set, lock and key_,_ is only fifteen dollars!_" Rachel said, sounding ecstatic that someone was interesting in her ridiculous notion.

"And I don't suppose you sell matching belts?" he asked, trying to make his tone as innocent as possible.

"_I…_" For a second, Charlie thought he had gotten her speechless again. "_We had never considered belts, but that could be interesting. It's certainly more symbolic of sex than a necklace. The belt buckle could be the lock…"_

"Dear God, she doesn't get it, does she?" Charlie asked Kurt as the crazy girl continued to talk; the countertenor shook his head. "Chastity belt jokes just go right over her head?" Kurt nodded. "How innocent is this girl?"

"One hundred percent," Kurt answered, and apparently Rachel heard that one.

"_Just like you, Kurt, which is why you should buy one! Charlie, are you interested?_"

"Sweetie, the celibacy train passed me _long_ ago," he said with a laugh, trying to push what Lucas had said about his reputation earlier out of his head.

"_It's never too late to start!_" she said encouragingly, and this girl did _not_ give up.

"I don't think my boyfriend would be too pleased with you right now, but I'll order one on Kurt's behalf… maybe give him the lock and the key to Blaine though," Charlie said, smirking at the junior.

"_That's not how they're supposed to work_," Rachel started to object, "_the idea is…"_

"Shut up, Charlie," Kurt muttered as Rachel continued to talk. "Rachel, we get the charms, I just don't want one!" Kurt said, finally stopping her rant.

"_Why not_?" Rachel asked, very injured. "_On Valentine's Day, we talked about…"_

"We talked about forgoing boys, I know. And since then, you've dated my gay best friend, so you really don't have time to talk." The girl was silent. "Look, Rachel, there's celibacy by choice, which is admirable, and there's celibacy by lack of option, which an entirely different situation, one which I doubt you will face."

"Kurt, I think you have quite a few options," Charlie began, prepared to list a few, starting with Blaine, but Kurt interrupted him.

"_Viable_ option," he qualified his statement. "I know you want to wait until after your Tony and your twenty-fifth birthday or whatever-"

"_How could you _possibly-" Rachel began.

"Finn tells me way more than you know, Rachel. Way more than I want to know, for certain," Kurt said, wrinkling his nose. "Anyway, I respect your choices, probably more than Finn does, but I'm not you."

"So what do you think about celibacy?" Rachel asked, surprisingly sane all of the sudden, and Kurt's eyes flickered to Charlie.

"Just pretend I'm not here," he suggested.

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't, but I'm getting the feeling that if I leave, you'll follow me."

"That seems likely," he admitted.

Kurt sighed. "Look, Rachel, I don't know anything about s-sex-"

"_Kurt, my dads-_"

"And I don't want to talk to your dads!" he said quickly, like he knew the interruption was coming. "I know you say that girls want it just as much as guys do, which I know in some cases is true because I've _met_ Santana, but I also know you're not one of those girls. And yes, I'm a teenage boy, and I think about it, maybe slightly less than most but surely more than you do, and maybe the idea makes me uncomfortable _now_, but if a viable option were to present itself to me, probably sometime in the future knowing the aversion of most brutes in Ohio to people of my persuasion, my go-to answer wouldn't be 'not until I'm twenty-five.'" There was dead silence from the other line. "So, I'm sorry, but I don't want any of your chastity charms."

"_Is this about Blaine_?" Rachel asked, and Kurt rolled his eyes at nothing in particular.

"No, Rachel, this isn't about Blaine. And before you object," he said quickly, "you of all people should know that personal attitudes towards s-sex aren't necessarily related to the person you're…" Kurt trailed off. "If that were true, it could be concluded that your chastity is related to Finn, which I'm sure is untrue."

"_I… And what if it is? In part?_"

"Are you trying to tell me you're not attracted to my brother? Because I know Blaine's cute, but…" Rachel started laughing.

"No,_ I just mean that… you know about Finn's first time. And if celibacy by choice prevents that, I think it's the most realistic attitude._"

"But celibacy by choice also _caused_ that. Not Finn's, of course, but rather Quinn's. If Quinn had been with Finn and not Puck, she probably never would have gotten pregnant because Finn is smart enough to use a condom and Finn never would have slept with Santana."

"_Just because we're in high school and hormonal, doesn't mean celibacy isn't an option!_" Rachel suddenly burst out before hanging up.

"Wonder what sexually-active bee is in her bonnet," Charlie said as Kurt's phone beeped to indicate Rachel's dramatics.

"Pretty much all of the people I just mentioned, I'm sure," Kurt said with a little sigh. "McKinley can be very dramatic, as you might have noticed."

"I did," Charlie said with a grin. "Sounds awesome."

"That would be what you think, yes," Kurt said with a laugh. "What did you think of your first treatment of Rachel? I promise you she's more tolerable in smaller doses." Charlie snorted.

"I can't believe Blaine went on a date with her over you."

"I can," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "He's good enough with crazy to be friends with you, there's no reason he couldn't handle Rachel."

"Now, that's just cold. Am I that crazy?"

"Worse," Kurt said dryly, but a smile was curling the edges of his mouth. "Now, is there a reason you're in here?"

"No, but I'm glad I didn't miss that conversation!" Charlie said honestly, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Mock me if you wish, but I'm not going to go out searching for a gay guy I have a connection with in the hope of copulating. I can wait."

"I can't believe you just used the word copulating." Kurt shrugged. "I guess that word makes sense when you stutter every time you say sex and blush whenever anyone else says it." Kurt's cheeks reddened as if to prove his point. "Slightly better than mating, cleaner than fucking, a little worse than intercourse, a _thousand _times better than making love, but really, I prefer porking over all of the above. However-" Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Is this the mocking part? Because I would really like to get it over with so I can focus on my homework," Kurt interrupted him.

"_However_," Charlie said again, "I can kind of see where you two are coming from." Kurt's head whipped around, giving the junior the opportunity to gawk at him. "What?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Charlie?" Kurt asked breathily, eyes wide, and it didn't even sound like he was kidding.

"Shut up," he said with a laugh. "Just because it's not an option I chose for myself, doesn't mean I don't understand how people could do it, and I respect the people that chose to." Charlie wasn't sure if Kurt could hear the unspoken, 'more than I've respected myself, a lot of the time,' after his sentence, but he was sure it was for the best.

"Do you wish you had?" Kurt's question was clear.

"If I answer that question, which I will, you have to answer mine." Kurt nodded. "Sometimes. Certainly with some people, especially the ones whose names I barely remembered," Charlie could tell the junior was working very hard to keep his face nonjudgmental, "and even with some I remember well. Certain Warblers, I'm not going to tell you who, and obviously Blaine-"

"Blaine?" Kurt asked in surprise.

"Yes, Blaine," Charlie confirmed. "Not that it wasn't fun and sweaty and _amazing_," Charlie said all of these things just to watch Kurt look at the floor as his cheeks darkened, "but I think it would have been better for both of us, and we've talked about this before, remember?"

"Yes, I know," Kurt said, "I was just surprised he was one of the first examples that popped into your head."

"I'm always thinking about him when I'm around you," Charlie said with a shrug. "You two are pretty much a joint entity ninety-nine percent of the time, it's hard not to think about one of you when with the other. It's like you're… two pieces of a puzzle, a perfect fit, two pieces of one whole…"

"Shut up," Kurt said, finally catching on that Charlie was messing with him.

"And now you have to answer my question."

"I am appropriately dreading it." Kurt turned to look at him.

"Is Blaine a… 'viable option?'" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at the countertenor, who blushed red at the question. Charlie didn't know what kind of horrors the junior had been expecting, but he hoped his question lived up.

"I don't want to talk about Blaine," was Kurt's answer.

"I don't care, you promised you would answer my question."

Kurt sighed, looking away. "Maybe, at some point, he could be," was his mumbled answer, and while Charlie was cruel enough to pretend that he didn't ear and ask for it to be repeated louder, he also knew that if he wanted an answer to more than one question he wouldn't push it. Whatever the joke related to that phrase was.

"And why don't you want to talk about Blaine?" he asked.

"I promised you one question."

"Humor me."

Kurt sighed for what had to be the billionth time during their conversation. "Charlie, you know-" Kurt suddenly got up to shut the door, as if whatever he was about to say was more sensitive than all of the things that had been said before, an idea that was pretty hard to believe. "You know I like Blaine-"

"Really? You had to close the door to tell me _that_?" Charlie had to ask, because everyone in the school knew that. Even Blaine.

"Charlie!" Kurt chastised.

"Sorry, sorry. SCT?" he asked, and Kurt stared at him questioningly.

"_What_?"

"SCT," Charlie said. "It stands for Serious Conversation Time, it's what Blaine uses when he wants me to stop being an asshole and making jokes and actually talk to him like the real human being that lives inside a shoe in my head."

"Fine, fine, SCT," Kurt said, not even bothering to comment on that last part. "You know I like Blaine, and you know for the life of me I can't _stop_ liking him, even when I've tried, but… do you know how much he's put me through since I met him?"

"Relationships aren't easy," Charlie said with a shrug.

"Yes, I know, but we're not _in_ a relationship. If we're this bad as friends, how do you think we'll be when we're actually in a relationship? He even said the other day that we would be a terrible couple!"

"Someday, I will choke him," Charlie promised himself. "Anyway, do you really want me to answer that question?" Kurt nodded. "I think you'll be fantastic."

"Pardon?" Kurt asked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Look, all couples go through all of their personal shit when they're together. Terrible ex-boyfriends, bad stories from the past, insecurities… everything that qualifies as baggage. You and Blaine have already done all of those things. You've dealt with his worst ex, you've both awkwardly plugged through your weaknesses and insecurities, you both know each others' stories, you've already done all of the terrible couple stuff… besides the awkward first time, but the bottom line is: you've done all of the hard stuff that leads to two people being a fantastic couple. Now you just need to reap your reward: the happy moments." Kurt looked like he was considering it. "And if you give up now, everything you've done and been through, and all of the happy moments that have been interspersed throughout the pain, will be for nothing. He knows your family, he's met your parents, your friends love him, and vice versa. Hell, you've practically lived together! I think you two will make a great couple, because you have all the best parts of a relationship yet to come."

"What if things don't work out?"

"Then you break up," Charlie said simply. "And maybe it will be a while, and maybe it will be awkward, but you'll get back to being friends at some point, and you'll still have some form of a happily ever after. Just with two different people, and each others' eternal support as two of the closest friends in the history of the universe."

"You can't be friends with exes."

"If that was true, I wouldn't have any friends at Dalton. I'm friends with Blaine."

"One-night stands don't really count."

"Au contraire! Besides, you and Blaine have already beaten the odds on being weird friends, I'm sure you can do it some more." Kurt grunted noncommittally. "And as for the two of you being a terrible couple, want to give me some context?"

"We're too good at hurting each other," Kurt murmured.

"That's true of any couple. That's why divorces get so ugly." Kurt nodded, clearly thinking Charlie's words over. "But you know what comes before divorce? Love, marriage, sex, all the fun things. Maybe the solution to being too good at hurting each other is not _trying_ every five seconds…" Charlie suggested, making the junior smile.

"You have a point," Kurt admitted, "but I don't know how much longer I can wait for him, Charlie."

"Maybe that's something you ought to be telling _him_," Charlie suggested, knowing it would never happening.

"Are you going to Warblers rehearsal tomorrow?" Kurt asked as he worked on some more homework, clearly done with the serious conversation.

"What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"_Oh_, no, sorry, I don't believe in mornings."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

* * *

><p>Despite his promise to Kurt, Charlie did drag himself out of bed at ten thirty, run a comb through his hair, and slap on some deodorant for Warblers' practice. He didn't want to miss whatever was happening right before Regionals, because frankly, Wes was funniest at his most insane.<p>

Kurt and Blaine walked in together a few minutes after his arrival, Kurt raising his eyebrows at his presence and Charlie just shrugging. He did everything on a whim, the countertenor should know that now.

"Please, everybody, please settle in," Wes said impatiently ten minutes before practice was supposed to start. "I have a proposal for our opening number for Regionals, which will _not_ be _C'Mon_, as the song received negative results from you, my constituents." Wes didn't sound pleased, but at least he wasn't being a dictator and ignoring their feedback. "Blaine will take the lead, if there are no objections." But, of course, there was no time for objections. "The song in question will be _Misery_ by Maroon 5." Everyone cheered excitedly, the song was exactly in their wheelhouse. "David, distribute the sheet music. Today and next rehearsal we will practice this song, we will do a dry-run before Regionals, and we will plan another song next week to fit into our expanded set list."

Charlie mused as David passed out the set lists and Wes continued to excitedly spew words that he didn't really care about. He could see Kurt rolling his eyes and doubtlessly muttering to Jeff, a sympathizer, about solos in the Warblers, and Lucas' words came to his mind again. Everyone loved Kurt, and wanted him to stay, but when Charlie really thought about it, Kurt didn't belong here. He couldn't understand the notion that the Warblers didn't fight for solos because solos were no more important. Kendrick doesn't get solos, but what would the Warblers do without him? Every role is equally important, especially Kurt's as the only countertenor, but Kurt couldn't be happy unless he was the center of attention. All of the other Warblers just needed to feel necessary, and they did, because they were. Kurt didn't get that, and the probability was that he never would, poor kid.

"Are you actually performing at Regionals?" David asked, breaking Charlie out of his thoughts, and the senior shrugged, having not yet decided. "I would say yes for as long as you're in the room, because Wes may not seem tyrannical at the moment, but he's fucking insane."

"Eight-part harmony, everyone, no mistakes. We'll do a bare-run. Kendrick, give us a beat. Blaine, all yours."

_So scared of breaking it that you won't let it bend  
><em>_And I wrote two hundred letters I will never send  
><em>_Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem  
><em>_You'd rather cover up; I'd rather let them bleed_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I really liked this idea, of seeing the world through Charlie's eyes for a little. So, I did it. Also, apparently I lied, and Sexy is not in this chapter, though it does set up for it a little (Rachel with the celibacy meeting and their little chat about celibacy). Still, I do apologize, and the Lima Bean Scene with Sue Sylvester will begin the next chapter (no doubt, this is an absolute promise). Still, it's only been nine days since I last posted a chapter, so you guys can't be too mad at me, right? :D**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Tik Tok_' by Ke$ha (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Push It<em>' by Salt-n-Pepa (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned... kind of)  
>'<em>C'Mon<em>' by Ke$ha (mentioned)  
>'<em>Misery<em>' by Maroon 5

**Reviews are Love.**


	38. The Animal Inside of You

Monday was perhaps the least interesting day that had occurred at Dalton since Kurt joined the student body. Wes was still being a tyrant, but he had focused most of his energies on Blaine, who was essentially being impeccable and causing the despot great frustration; he had nothing to criticize. However, Blaine did need to get some air from the constant watch of Wes, and that was how Kurt's Tuesday became interesting. After classes, he was walking down the hall with Kendrick.

"Ten bucks says that the second number will _also_ be sung by Blaine, and will be something else straight off the top 100."

"That is Wes' version of a diversified set list," Kendrick said with amusement. "Next Warbler's practice, Mike, Trent, Robbie, and I put together an arrangement of _Dynamite_ just to prove that we could." Kurt laughed, remembering the rehearsal where they had proposed songs, all of which had been ignored. "You have to feel bad for Blaine, though."

"'Have to' is a strong phrase," Kurt said, his mouth twisting a little at the corner, because yes, he loved Blaine's voice and it was what had drawn Kurt towards the tenor in the first place… but it was like coffee. He loved it, and having a cup was great, but too much left a bad taste in his mouth.

Kendrick was about to respond when Kurt's arm was grabbed rather roughly and the Dalton hallway flashed before his eyes as he was pulled into a closet. Immediately, he pulled out of the grasp, striking at whoever had grabbed him with his arm because really? He was _not_ going to tolerate being bullied at Dalton!

"Ow! It's _me_!" came a very familiar voice that he had just been complaining about, and a light flashed on just in time for Kurt to see Blaine letting go of the cord. "Though I do apologize for scaring you."

"Any particular reason you pulled me into a closet?" Kurt asked.

"This is a very special closet," Blaine said with a grin.

"I'm officially writing you off as mentally unstable."

Blaine rolled his eyes in response. "Not like that, you pervert." Kurt's cheeks flushed as Kurt realized what Blaine had thought he had meant. "You know how Dalton is essentially Hogwarts minus the wands?"

"Indeed, I believe that's why you go here."

"Well, like Hogwarts, there are certain secret passages at Dalton, including the secret staircase that leads out of the Warblers' rehearsal space. This hallway is connected to the same set of stairs, but with a different exit, the parking lot."

"And the reason we can't just walk out of the front door?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. He knew this was Blaine's way of getting them to the Lima Bean for the afternoon, but he didn't understand the secrecy.

"Wes," Blaine answered with a grimace, and Kurt started laughing, realizing exactly the problem.

"Is he really that bad?" Kurt started to ask, but he couldn't keep a straight face. The Head Warbler was absolutely insane, since they only had a little bit of time until Regionals. Kurt ignored the buzz of his phone, assuming it was Kendrick asking where he had disappeared to.

"Shut up," Blaine said with a pout that was rather adorable. "Do you want to come with me or not?"

"If I say no, are you going to abduct me again?"

"Possibly."

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine managed to get out of Dalton without Wes locating them (Kurt briefly mocked his best friend again when he learned that Blaine had ditched his phone in case Wes was tracking its GPS, and he insisted on taking Kurt's Navigator, thoroughly scrutinizing the car before declaring it clean of tracking devices), and they discussed song choices for the second song at Regionals on the way to the Lima Bean. Hopefully, Wes would actually give his 'minions,' as he called them, some input on the last half of their setlist.<p>

"Don't you think it's time for the Warblers to do a Joan Armatrading medley?" Kurt asked Blaine as they waited at the pick-up station for their coffee.

"Um, I'm not so sure people know who that is," Blaine said with a little chuckle. Kurt glowered at him.

"Well, well, well," Kurt heard a rather dreaded voice from behind him, "if it isn't my sweet, sweet Porcelain." Blaine kind of did a double take, nonplussed, as the two turned around to face Coach Sue Sylvester, wearing sunglasses and looking menacing.

"Coach Sylvester," Kurt greeted her as politely as he could manage. "What are you doing here?" The Lima Bean wasn't even a McKinley High hangout, so she couldn't claim that she was looking to supervise or torture her Cheerios.

"Oh, just picking up some coffee. I like my enemas piping hot." Kurt didn't bother to react, used to the crazy woman, but Blaine looked at her in concern and possibly a bit of fear. "Actually, boys," she said, taking off her sunglasses to pretend that she was dropping the act that was her real personality, "I heard that this was a Dalton Academy hangout, and I come in a spirit of fellowship." Kurt almost snorted at the idea. Blaine smiled at her though, the oblivious idiot. "As you no doubt have heard, I've taken over for the coach of Aural Intensity."

"We heard you pushed him down the stairs," Kurt said calmly.

"No, you can't prove that," Coach Sylvester said immediately, proving to Kurt that she had done so.

Blaine looked sort of confused again, and a little worried, so Kurt assured him, "This is just sort of how she talks."

"So, I happen to have some top secret intel. Will Schuester has finally realized that his team's Achilles' heel is their utter lack of sex appeal," Sue told her story as the barista handed all three of them coffee. "The New Directions are getting sexy," she told them as she threw an entire sugar packet in her coffee, paper and all. "And the key to Regionals is out-sexing them. And I suspect that the judges are scoring extra for it this year." She wasn't actually going to drink that coffee, was she? Was that vinegar she was pouring in? "So, Porcelain, quid pro quo, what do you have for me?"

"I'm sorry, Coach, but you and I are-are not in cahoots," Kurt told her, knowing the Sue Sylvester was not a woman who could be trusted when it came to competition.

"Probably should have nailed that down before I gave you my top secret intel. Porcelain, you just made a powerful enema." Kurt stared after her curiously, but he really didn't care.

"We've got to hold an emergency meeting," Blaine said, apparently finding his voice after the horror of Sue Sylvester had worn off.

"Why?" Kurt asked, wondering what Blaine had been thinking while Sue was spouting her nonsense.

"Weren't you listening?" he asked, and oh, boy. "The judges at Regionals have an eye out for something new, which means… the Warblers have got to do something sexified." Kurt took a look at Sue Sylvester as she reached the door, because unbelievably enough she had actually _gotten_ to Blaine.

"Blaine, I hate to challenge your supreme authority over the Warblers, but you do realize that woman is crazy, right?"

"Coffee enema stuff aside," Blaine replied, his voice containing his horror, "she's a reasonably good source for the going-ons at McKinley, and she's looking for every opportunity she can get for the New Directions to lose. I don't think she's lying."

"But _if_ the New Directions are trying to… increase their sex appeal, which I doubt, they're certainly not going to succeed and I doubt the judges at Regionals are looking for it." Blaine was starting to make his own coffee, and Kurt wondered if he was even listening.

"I think that's the only time I've ever heard you say sex without stuttering."

"_Blaine_," Kurt implored the tenor, "don't listen to her. The Warblers should stick to what the Warblers do best, and that's _not_ the sexy stuff."

"You're the one who has been saying since day one that the Warblers need to branch out. We're all young, talented, attractive men, I don't see why we shouldn't try out the sex appeal angle for once," Blaine said with a shrug, bumping Kurt's shoulder with his. "And if it doesn't work, there's no harm done. Maybe Wes won't even like it." Blaine started patting his pockets. "I'm going to need your phone."

"I'm sorry, my phone does not participate in asinine plots."

"Now, I know that's a lie."

* * *

><p>Blaine had called a very irate Wes using Kurt's phone as Kurt drove them back to Dalton, and soon enough the Warblers were gathered in their rehearsal space, and Blaine was speaking at the front. "Esteemed council, fellow Warblers," he began with that decorum saved for official meetings, "I have good news and I have bad news, both regarding our competition at Regionals and both gleaned from a fairly reliable source at William McKinley High School." Kurt rolled his eyes when Blaine once again referred to Sue as reliable. "The bad news is that the New Directions have a new strategy for Regionals." Everyone was immediately paying attention, a few groans coming from the audience. "The good news is, their strategy is something we can far outdistance them in."<p>

"Junior Warbler Anderson, can you get to the point?" David asked, rubbing his temples in a way that suggested his boyfriend hadn't stopped talking about Regionals for the last week.

"The New Directions are going to try sex appeal," Blaine said, making several sets of eyebrows raise, including Kurt's, "and I suggest that we can beat them to it."

"Why would that ragtag band of outcasts try _sex_ _appeal_?" Thad asked, and then added as an afterthought, "No offense, Kurt."

"I'm sure Kurt didn't take offense," Charlie said, making his usual late entrance, "because he's pretty much the most gorgeous being to walk the face of the earth." Kurt tried not to blush as a few guys nodded; Charlie took a seat next to him and slung an arm around his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Thank you for being on time, Senior Warbler Shields," Wes said coldly.

"Sorry, Wes, I was balls-deep in-"

"Save it, Charlie," Blaine interrupted him, "we all know your boyfriend isn't here." Charlie proceeded to grumble about how that excuse had worked so much better when no one had known who he was sleeping with. "To answer your question, Senior Warbler van Heusner, I don't know why the New Directions have taken this turn, but it is suggested that it is being looked for at Regionals by another coach."

"What do you suggest for a course of action, Junior Warbler Anderson?" Wes asked coolly, obviously not subscribing to Blaine's theory.

"We perform a number, for an objective audience, trying out this strategy. If they find our attempt unsatisfactory, we can abandon the result and continue with our usual plan. If the reaction is positive, we can attempt to incorporate the style into our performance at Regionals." Blaine waited patiently as the council discussed, muttering to each other in low voices. Kurt couldn't catch even a whisper of their conversation, and after a while he was beginning to think they were just _acting_ like they were arguing to prove their authority.

Wes eventually pulled out of the huddle. "All in favor of having an extra rehearsal tomorrow to choreograph and practice a number involving sex appeal, which will be performed on Thursday morning at Crawford Country Day?"

Hands were raised, Kurt reluctantly supporting his friend, and eventually they had to result to paper ballots, the call was too close. If the sexy number won by his vote, he was going to be very annoyed with himself and Blaine.

Wes banged his gavel. "By three votes, sex appeal prevails. We will arrange, practice, and choreograph a number at an extra rehearsal tomorrow, right after classes, and we will leave classes on Thursday morning to perform for some ladies from Crawford Country Day."

"Any ideas for the number?" David asked Blaine, who only shrugged in reply.

"Open forum," Wes declared, banging his gavel again. Apparently, those two words were magic, because Kurt couldn't even keep track of all the suggestions that followed.

"_Urgent_ by Foreigner."

"_Pour Some Sugar on Me_ by Def Leppard."

"_Lady Marmalade_, either version."

"_Sledgehammer_ by Peter Gabriel."

"_Let's Get It On_."

"_Me & U_ by Cassie."

"_Dr. Feelgood_ by Mötley Crüe."

"_Kiss You All Over_ by Exile."

"_I'll Make Love to You_ by Boyz II Men."

"_Promiscuous_ by Nelly Furtado and Timbaland."

"Stop, stop!" Blaine insisted over the noise, Wes' gavel helping to quiet the sudden explosion of sound. "You're all being _way_ too literal. All those songs are _about_ sex, which is kind of slap-in-the-face."

"Do I even need to be the one to make the joke here?" Charlie asked, earning himself another bang of Wes' gavel.

"We want something that we can _make_ sexy, not something that just screams it, and we're still looking for something modern."

"How about _Animal_?" Charlie was the one to ask, having been surprisingly quiet during the first round of suggestions.

Blaine appeared to consider it. "Perfect, Charlie."

"All in favor?" Wes asked, and when the vote was near unanimous, he banged his gavel again. "The choice will be _Animal_, by the Neon Trees. Dismissed."

Charlie turned and grinned at Kurt. "For the first verse, you can thank me later," the crazy boy said to the countertenor, smacking a kiss to his cheek before leaving the room. Kurt thought through the first few lyrics and groaned.

_Here we go again  
><em>_I kinda wanna be more than friends  
><em>_So take it easy on me  
><em>_I'm afraid you're never satisfied_

* * *

><p>"I still think this is a bad idea," Kurt said to Blaine as they left AP Gov the next day, headed for Warblers' practice. "Sue Sylvester is crazy, and all we're doing is wasting time before Regionals."<p>

"Wes won't make the final determination for song selection before we hash out _Misery_ anyway, and we won't do that until at _least_ Sunday. So, really, all I'm doing is ensuring that Wes has something to preoccupy himself with so he doesn't get himself murdered by his own subordinates." Blaine had a point, everyone was starting to get really annoyed with Wes. "Besides, what's really the problem? Doing this number could be fun!"

"Says the only person that will be singing," Kurt grumbled as they entered the room.

The Warblers were very prompt, and it was surprisingly _Wes_ that was late. The rather ruffled appearance of his hair and his improperly buttoned shirt quickly explained the tardiness. The fact that David walked in with him with a rather wolfish grin also helped. "Attention, everybody," Wes said, still seeming a little bit distracted as he sat down and banged his gavel. "David, Thad, and I stayed up late last night to work on an arrangement of the song, which Thad will now pass out." Kurt couldn't imagine what Thad was putting up with now that the two other council members were having sex openly.

Blaine raised his hand, and Wes nodded for him to speak. Blaine stood up from his seat next to Kurt. "If I may be so bold as to suggest a slight change?" Wes glared rather fiercely at him. "Something that would not affect the harmonies of the Warblers," Blaine corrected himself quickly, and David nodded for him to continue. What the hell was Blaine suggesting? "While I am more than happy to perform the number, it may be easier for their to be two focuses." Wes raised an eyebrow. "I am suggesting that I not be the only lead on this song. Not only will it make the experience more comfortable, but it also improves our chances of reaching the girls. Women, as we all know, have certain types that they find appealing."

"Blaine, if there was a single universal on the planet, it would be you," Thad said, jealous rather than amused.

"And I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable, Junior Warblers Anderson," David said, raising an eyebrow like he didn't believe a word of what was coming out of Blaine's mouth. Kurt wasn't sure anyone did.

"Do I even need to ask who you are suggesting to be your partner?" Wes asked, and Kurt could tell he didn't believe Blaine either.

"I'm with Blaine on this one," was how Charlie chose to enter on that particular day, taking a seat on the arm of one couch near the council's desk. "He's hot as hell, girls have _literally_ thrown their panties onto the stage at him on several occasions," Charlie wrinkled his nose when he said the word 'panties,' "and he'll sound awesome singing the song. If we're going to capitalize on sex appeal, he would be the one to do it with."

Kurt looked around, curious who Charlie and Blaine agreed to be the person with the greatest sex appeal in the group, and then he realized they were both looking at him, as were several other Warblers. _What_? Did they seriously think girls' reactions to him as a cheerleader would still apply?

"All in favor of Kurt doing a duet with Blaine?" Charlie was the one to call for the vote, making Wes glare at him. Sadly, Kurt didn't get a chance to object before the vote was cast, and it was nearly unanimous.

Wes banged his gavel. "Kurt and Blaine will be performing _Animal_ as a duet tomorrow morning. Kurt, Blaine, I'm going to assume you can work out your parts and harmonies together. Nick will take over the lead part as the rest of the group practices the harmony arrangements. We will reconvene in half an hour to talk about choreography."

"Happy now?" Blaine asked casually, sitting back in his seat next to Kurt as the rest of the Warblers formed a circle on the open end of the room and started figuring out the harmonies, beginning with a bare-run, Nick's voice filling in Blaine's part rather impressively.

"When I was lamenting you singing it solo, I wasn't suggesting that _I_ should sing it with you!" Kurt hissed, a little bit angry and a whole lot embarrassed.

"What?" Blaine asked innocently. "You've done the whole sex appeal thing in front of a crowd before, you'll be fine. You have just as many gorgeous people behind you this time as you did then." Blaine grabbed both of their copies of the arrangement, which David had left on the coffee table in front of them. "I guess we're cutting it down. No first verse or chorus, I guess Wes didn't want the cannibal reference in there, though Ke$ha somehow manages to make it sound sexy." Stupid Charlie, he had gotten them into this. "And then a little bit off the close-out, the repetition of here we go again and the last half-chorus." Blaine shrugged. "Reasonable enough. Do you want to split up parts?"

"You're seriously fine with this?" Kurt asked, because not only was the idea of Blaine sharing the spotlight previous unfeasible, but they were singing a song together that was _supposed_ to be sexually-charged, and Blaine didn't even seem concerned.

"I'm not the diva here," Blaine said with a smile. "I thought you'd be happy to get your first solo." Okay, apparently the oblivious was _not_ getting what Kurt was saying.

"I am," Kurt lied, still not sure about the whole idea. "You can open, and I'll come in half way through the verse."

"You'll sing that, and then we can do the chorus together…"

* * *

><p>Charlie was sitting on his bed when Kurt got back to his dorm after what had to qualify as one of the most awkward Warbler's rehearsals of his life, and the crazy idiot at least looked a touch remorseful After spending the first half an hour singing sexually-charged lyrics to one another, they then spent the next hour and a half blocking various choreography options, most of which involved <em>far<em> too much touching for Kurt's comfort. And Blaine was still oblivious. "So, how goes the eye sex?"

"Not funny, Charlie," Kurt said, as close to a growl as he could manage.

"And the more important question, how the _hell_ do you control your raging boners during rehearsal?"

Kurt knew his face immediately went crimson. "Charlie!"

"What?" Charlie said, shrugging. "I'm not an idiot, I know you're attracted to him, and this stuff _must_ be getting to you. Plus, your roommate is not as oblivious as you think to your daily activities." Charlie's eyes sparkled, and Dalton really needed to invest in thicker walls if they were going to cram hundreds of hormonal males together on one campus.

"Charlie, I don't masturbate," Kurt lied very convincingly, but Charlie snorted. "At least not daily," he argued, and Charlie conceded that point.

"Still, this is going to be _awkward_." Charlie sounded more excited than sympathetic. "Especially since you _know_ he's going to point those smoldering golden eyes at you. There's nothing that gets a crowd of girls going faster than two guys all over each other, though it's a shame Wes edited his boyfriend's choreography."

"I would call it a blessing," Kurt corrected, because David's version of sexy was almost sex. "And I am perfectly capable of controlling myself, thank you. It will be especially easy," Kurt said as he pulled out his homework, recognizing that Charlie was in no mood to leave anytime soon, "since I am performing alongside him. I can simply focus on my part."

"Or turn those baby blues back on him and make _him_ the one dealing with the awkward boner." Kurt's cheeks flushed again, but he otherwise managed to ignore Charlie's comment. "Oh, come on. Teasing you is no fun if you don't play along."

"Charlie, I have a lot of work to do."

"Kurt, we're not going to classes tomorrow." Charlie rolled his eyes and hopped off Kurt's bed. "My advice would be to work through the number a few times in your head and then jack off a few times more before heading to bed early." Charlie smacked a kiss to his cheek as he left the room. So used to the crazy, all Kurt did was roll his eyes.

* * *

><p>Kurt went out of his way to avoid sitting next to both Blaine <em>and<em> Charlie on the bus, Blaine because all he would want to do was practice or talk about the number, and Charlie for obvious reasons. As a result, he ended up in the front, sitting next to Thad and watching Wevid half-argue and half-make-out. Kurt would never understand that particular pairing.

"Are you excited?" Thad asked innocently. It wasn't exactly awkward to be sitting next to the council member, he had known the boy for long enough, but they hadn't had very many private conversations. "To perform your first solo with the Warblers," he clarified when Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him.

"A little," Kurt decided was the best answer, because _yes_, he was nervous, but it had nothing to do with the fact that he was performing. In fact, he was excited to be in the spotlight for once, even if it was an unofficial number in front of a bunch of private school girls.

"You shouldn't be," Thad assured him. "You have a wonderful voice, and you and Blaine have great chemistry."

"That's what I'm worried about," Kurt mumbled, quiet enough that Thad shouldn't have been able to hear him, but the older boy smiled.

"Blaine may be oblivious, but he's not blind," Thad said, surprisingly kind instead of teasing. They sat in silence for the rest of the bus ride to Crawford Country Day.

Overall the school wasn't as impressive as Dalton, the siding on the dorms a little faded in places and the grounds poorly maintained, but it was swarming with girls who looked rather pleased with their living arrangements, most walking around in groups of three or more. The CCD uniform, Kurt decided, wasn't the worst thing in the world, though he was sure it would be tiring after a while, and he wondered if there were variations. It certainly beat the Dalton blazers. The blue-and-white plaid skirts, ties, navy sweater vests, white button-downs, black knee-highs and black Mary Jane's were cute enough that Kurt didn't even notice Blaine coming to stand next to him before an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Ready?" his best friend asked him, and the only option Kurt had was to nod.

Wes, David, Thad, and Blaine, the four who seemed to know where they were going, let them to something that appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There was a row of girls in uniform lined up in front of some sort of structure, which Wes frowned at. There went their choreography. As soon as Blaine walked into the room and flashed them a radiant smile, they all started nudging each other and waving suggestively. Flirts.

Blaine strolled out confidently into the middle of the room, sticking his hands in his pockets and immediately getting all the girls' attention, and Wes split the Warblers onto each side of the structure, muttering choreography into each member's ear as they passed. He really did think fast, and Kurt nodded at his instructions. They were pretty simple. Just… follow Blaine.

"I would like the welcome the ladies of our sister school, Crawford Country Day. As you know, the Warblers are competing in our show choir's Regionals competition next week." Everyone had been saying 'next week' for the last month. "So, what we're going for here today, ladies, is something a little… a little sexy," Blaine said with a rather intoxicating smile that was quickly returned by the girls. "But we need your input. Are we _scream-worthy?_" Blaine increased his volume and he was such a _dork_, Kurt couldn't help but smile as smitten as the girls in the audience. "Do we make your _knees_ turn to _jelly_?" he asked, illustrating. "So, without further ado, hang on to your bobby socks, girls, 'cause we're about to rock your world." Kurt quickly went through the opening in his head as he tried to ignore what that particular combination of words reminded him of… the last time Blaine had been around women.

* * *

><p>Blaine turned and faced the stairs as the girls giggled, ignoring how his teammates adjusted their blazers and ties and hair, generally acting like the teenage girls they were trying to impress. The music swelled behind him as the Warblers climbed up the stairs on both ends. Blaine got in the back of the line, and saw Kurt do the same.<p>

**Here we are again  
><strong>**I feel the chemicals kickin' in  
><strong>**It's getting heavy  
><strong>**And I wanna run and hide  
><strong>**I wanna run and hide**

The girls were already cheering and melting, Blaine easily getting caught up in the song as his duet partner ran up the stairs to join him.

_I do it every time  
><em>_You're killin' me now  
><em>_**And I won't be denied by you  
><strong>__**The animal inside of you**_

Blaine was sure his look of confusion matched the ones on the girls' faces, because… what was Kurt doing? He was grinding his hips and the tenor was sure he caught a few pairs of eyes flicker in the direction (not just the girls', either), but his face looked… pained. Extremely pained. Was he okay?

_**Oh, oh, I want some more  
><strong>__**Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**Take a bite of my heart tonight**_

_**Oh, oh, I want some more  
><strong>__**Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**What are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**Say goodbye to my heart tonight**_

_**Hush, hush, the world is quiet  
><strong>__**Hush, hush, we both can't fight it  
><strong>__**It's us that made this mess  
><strong>__**Why can't you understand?  
><strong>__**Woah, I won't sleep tonight**_

Kurt and Blaine got to operate the bubble cannon, which was awesome, and the spewed bubbles out over the Warblers and the girls as everyone continued to sing, but Blaine was… concerned, certainly. He didn't know if Kurt was trying too hard, or what, but he looked pained, and he looked so much more relaxed, so much more natural, and yes, he would admit it, so much sexier when he wasn't trying at all.

_**Oh, oh, I want some more  
><strong>__**Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**Take a bite of my heart tonight**_

_**Oh, oh, I want some more  
><strong>__**Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**What are you waiting for?  
><strong>__**What are you waiting...**_

_**Here we go again, oh, oh  
><strong>__**Here we go again, oh, oh  
><strong>__**Here we go again, oh, oh  
><strong>__**Say goodbye to my heart tonight**_

By the time they finished up the number, everyone was soaked in bubbles and laughing and Blaine had somehow gotten involved in an epic beach ball battle with Kurt. There were breakdance moves being performed on the slippery surface (which could only end well), and the Warblers were flirting shamelessly with the girls (not just for the purposes of the song either. Most of them had originally thought the idea stupid, he knew). Kurt had stopped it with the strange faces and looked to be genuinely having fun, Charlie twirling him around ballroom-style through the bubbles.

Eventually Wes yelled at them that they had to go soon, and the bubbles could be left. David started handing out towels and the straight Warblers started collecting phone numbers. Blaine was planning on going right over to Kurt, who was sitting on the structure and daintily toweling off, but Wes grabbed his arm first and pushed him towards the girls. "Say hi to your audience," was the Head Warbler's demand, and Blaine knew he would hear the end of it if he didn't listen. He scooped up his messenger bag to prevent bubble-damage and headed over to the girls.

"Hi, so you're Blaine, right?" a few of the girls asked. "We really enjoyed your performance."

"Thank you so much," Blaine said, though he didn't miss the suggestion in the words.

"Call us," she suggested, a few of the girls handing him cards and giggling.

"Sweet, but… not your team," Blaine let them down gently.

"Aw," the girls complained, but they left him alone, and he headed for Kurt, who was now combing his hair. Where had he gotten a comb? And a mirror? And a bubble-towel?

"Are you okay?" he asked his best friend, who seemed intently focused on his mirror. Kurt hated having mussed hair. "You kept making those… weird _faces_ the whole song." Well, not the entire time, but most of the time when the girls had been watching.

"Those weren't weird faces," Kurt corrected, and they would have to agree to disagree on that one. "Those were my sexy faces." Um… what?

"I-It just… looked like you were having gas pains… or something."

"Great," Kurt said, and Blaine could tell by the loud inhale that he was upset. "How are we supposed to get up on the stage at Regionals and sell sexy to the judges when I have as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a… baby penguin."

"We'll figure something out," Blaine promised him, and the look Kurt threw him was _not_ trusting. Kurt's statement wasn't actually true, he was definitely more appealing than a baby penguin, but now didn't seem like the kind of time Kurt would listen to rational arguments. It was obvious Kurt felt uncomfortable with the idea, and that was causing him to over-act instead of just being himself… maybe with a little extra kick. They could certainly figure that out. All they needed was for Kurt to feel comfortable.

* * *

><p>Blaine words had been ringing around in Kurt's head all day. "<em>It just looked like you were having gas pains or something<em>." Thus, Kurt had made the executive decision that he'd had quite enough company for the day, and he elected not to go to afternoon classes (the Warblers had _all _been excused from their morning ones already), instead sitting in his dorm with the lights dimmed and staring at the mirror. Why couldn't Blaine have just picked someone else to sing with?

Chris came in. "Hey, you weren't at dinner," he said, the concern obvious in his voice.

"Not hungry," Kurt replied absentmindedly, still looking at the mirror. Why did he have to look so immature, even to himself? No wonder Blaine couldn't find him sexy, he was like a toddler. A milkmaid. A girl. Blaine could never see him in that way.

"I don't think you can afford to skip meals," Chris said with a laugh, but Kurt could barely muster a twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Kurt?" he asked, but Kurt neglected not to say anything. If Chris had a question, he could ask all by himself. "Kurt?" Why did his nose have to be so wide? Why did his skin have to be so pasty? Why did his face have to be so angular? He looked like a geometric shape. "Dude!" Chris exclaimed, clearly having decided that Kurt was ignoring him. Kurt couldn't tear his eyes away from their slightly-lopsided twins. "Fuck," Chris said, grabbing the mirror off the wall. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"I'm fine, Chris," Kurt said, looking at the floor instead, because he didn't exactly want to talk about his insecurities with his very straight roommate. Neither Mercedes nor Rachel were answering his calls.

"I don't believe you," Chris said firmly, but Kurt was saved from a lecture by a knock at the door. Chris answered it, Kurt didn't look over. "_Great_," was Chris' cold reply to whoever was at the door. "I'm going to go get him food, because I'm willing to bet he hasn't eaten all day. Whatever you did, fix it," the jock said threateningly before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Hey, Kurt," the tenor said gently as he sat down next to Kurt on his bed, and he should have known it was Blaine. Who else at Dalton was famous for rubbing salt into the wounds they made?

"Hey," Kurt replied, a little listlessly, but when Blaine wrapped an arm around him, the countertenor didn't pull away, relaxing infinitesimally into the tenor's hold.

"You okay?" Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded. "Should I ask about the mirror?" The mirror previously hung on the wall was now upside down on Chris' bed.

"It told me I wasn't the fairest of them all, so Chris beat it up," Kurt said dryly, making Blaine chuckle.

"Sounds like something he would do," Blaine said, pulling Kurt a little closer. He didn't ask, didn't push, just waited patiently. It was one of the best things about him. "I'm sorry about earlier." Kurt made a noncommittal noise. "I'm starting to think the whole sexy number wasn't the best idea."

"You were great," Kurt insisted, leaning his head against Blaine's shoulder.

"Thank you," Blaine said, always courteous, "but that wasn't what I meant. Don't get me wrong, the song was great, but the performance… it just didn't seem like the Warblers to me, at least not the formal ones. Playing with bubbles and ruining their blazers is the kind of thing they do here, or during bonding events, not on stage."

"No offense to our lovely crew," Kurt said, "but I think they would be better competition for the New Directions if they actually _were_ like that on stage. Perhaps not with bubbles, but the Warblers' fun-loving side and wild camaraderie would actually look good on the stage. We would be more relaxed and be able to put more energy into each performance, like we did today. Instead, we're so stiff and formal that it's hard to believe we're all friendly high school students who just love to sing… and isn't that what Glee club is about?"

Blaine considered what Kurt was saying for a minute. "I suppose you have a point, but we'll never convince the council of that. Wes wasn't too happy with me on our way back home."

"I'm sure it wasn't you," Kurt mumbled under his breath, but whether Blaine heard him or not, he obviously got the gist of the comment.

"And it had nothing to do with you," Blaine insisted, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "Kurt, I'm serious. Look, you were obviously uncomfortable performing that number, and I shouldn't have pushed you to be my duet partner. I just… you were a Cheerio, and I assumed that as part of the New Directions, which tends to be less structured, you would have the most experience out of any of us."

"Turns out to be the opposite," Kurt muttered dryly, and Blaine sighed.

"That's not what I meant. I meant _performance_ experience." Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist and trying to convince his suddenly-racing heart of the fact that they were _not_ cuddling. They were just… _not_ cuddling. "The fact that you're… so innocent has absolutely nothing to do with today. I've seen _4 Minutes_, Kurt. You were probably just nervous, and you over-acted. It happens to the best of us."

Kurt nodded, accepting Blaine's premise. They stayed curled up in silence for a few minutes before Kurt had to ask. "Blaine, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Blaine said immediately, rubbing Kurt's bicep where his hand rested.

"Are you attracted to me?" Kurt felt his best friend tense. On any other day, Kurt would have shied away from asking the question, but today had been terrible enough; the worst thing Blaine could do was say 'no,' and at this point, it wouldn't be much of a surprise.

"Kurt, I…" Kurt looked up at his best friend and realized Blaine was blushing. "That has _nothing_ to do with-"

"You told me I looked like I had gas pains," Kurt accused him, and Blaine hung his head.

"Perhaps not my best wording?"

Kurt shook his head. "Just… answer the question." When Blaine looked at him, clearly considering it, Kurt resorted to begging. "_Please_, Blaine."

"Yes," was Blaine's quiet answer. "Of course I am… but that has nothing to do with this. If you don't fell… comfortable, performing in that style, we'll figure out some way to make you feel more comfortable." Blaine's eyes suddenly met Kurt's. "I wouldn't have asked you to sing with me if I wasn't."

All Kurt had to do was stretch up two inches, Blaine was that close, and they would be-

The door slammed open, Chris carrying a ridiculously full tray, and Blaine jerked away, disentangling himself from their embrace and climbing off Kurt's bed before they could be caught in a semi-inappropriate situation by his roommate. "I brought just about everything in the cafeteria," Chris announced as he placed the food on Kurt's bed, "so you can't complain there's nothing to eat."

"Thanks, Chris," Kurt said, able to muster a real smile, and Chris glared at the countertenor's best friend.

"You're an idiot; get out."

"Chris!" Kurt objected, but Blaine shook his head.

"I should go anyway, I have a project to work on. Are you heading home this weekend?" Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded. "May I accompany you? I think I have an idea."

"I… of course," Kurt answered, suddenly irrationally nervous. The countertenor waited until Blaine left to smile to himself, because what Blaine had said was about performing, not them, and suddenly that made everything a whole lot easier.

"How is it that he always manages to make everything magically all better in between the two of you?" Chris demanded as he stole some friends off the tray he had brought for Kurt. The countertenor would have objected, but his roommate knew him well enough to know he hadn't planned to eat them anyway.

"He has his charms," Kurt said with a smile.

Chris stared at him suspiciously. "Did I… interrupt something?" he asked, clearly working through the relative positions of Kurt and Blaine in the room when he walked in, Kurt could practically hear the wheels in his head turning.

"I hope so," was all Kurt said before grabbing a burger. Maybe he could indulge a little.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is the first time since the actual premiere of Sexy that I've had to watch **_**Animal **_**all the way through, and I forgot how painfully awkward it is. Chris Colfer must have had fun shooting that scene, but I get painfully embarrassed watching it. So, this is my interpretation of Sexy, because Blaine calling Kurt unattractive is just unforgivable, and now the rest can focus on his lack of experience as the primary problem, not the insane idea of him being unattractive. Plus, that makes Blaine's actions much more forgivable, both for you guys and for Kurt. Speaking of which, all those insecure thoughts are obviously not things *I* think about him (I happen to think he's a strange mixture of gorgeous and adorable), but rather the kind of stereotypical things insecure teenagers think.**

**This update was pretty fast, right?**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Dynamite_' by Taio Cruz (mentioned)  
>'<em>Urgent<em>' by Foreigner (mentioned)  
>'<em>Pour Some Sugar on Me<em>' by Def Leppard (mentioned)  
>'<em>Lady Marmalade<em>' by Patti Labelle or Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Maya, & P!nk (mentioned)  
>'<em>Sledgehammer<em>' by Peter Gabriel (mentioned)  
>'<em>Let's Get It On<em>' by Marvin Gaye (mentioned)  
>'<em>Me &amp; U<em>' by Cassie (mentioned)  
>'<em>Dr. Feelgood<em>' by Mötley Crüe (mentioned)  
>'<em>Kiss You All Over<em>' by Exile (mentioned)  
>'<em>I'll Make Love to You<em>' by Boyz II Men (mentioned)  
>'<em>Promiscuous<em>' by Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (mentioned)  
>'<em>Misery<em>' by Maroon 5 (mentioned)  
>'<em>Animal<em>' by the Neon Trees (in the style of _Glee_) (**Bold**is Blaine, _Italics_ is Kurt, _**Both**_ is Both)  
>'<em>4 Minutes<em>' by Madonna feat. Justin Timberlake (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)

**Reviews are Love, and keep the fast updates coming.**


	39. The Talk

Wes made the announcement during lunch on Friday that their usual Sunday morning rehearsal would be pushed to Monday after classes, giving absolutely no reason for the uncharacteristic change. Blane hadn't been kidding though, Wes kept glaring at the tenor, and it was clear the Head Warbler was _very_ unhappy with him. Somehow, judging by the pitying glances David was sending Blaine's way, Kurt got the feeling that his best friend had gotten the entirety of the blame for the disaster that _Animal_ had been, though Kurt himself probably deserved at least some of it, if not all of it. The number would have probably been very successful without him as part of it.

Kurt had woken up earlier with a splitting headache and the inability to believe the conversation Blaine and he had had last night. Whatever mania had come over him that convinced him to ask Blaine one of the biggest taboo questions in their tentative relationship was gone, and Kurt had done his best not to panic about the situation. It actually helped that Chris slept though his alarm and the countertenor was given the opportunity to whack his roommate repeatedly with a pillow. Not only did it drag Chris out of bed, but it also relieved some of the tension that had been building up as Kurt prepared for the day (his morning routine had been cut almost in half by the fact that he no longer needed to pick out an outfit and locate clothes).

During lunch, Kurt once again surrounded himself with the council to avoid Blaine (who hadn't looked him in the eye yet, despite the fact that they had been in two classes together that morning and in one had worked together on a project), Charlie (who found this whole _sexy_ thing just too amusing for words), and Chris (who had been smirking at him all day about what he had potentially interrupted the night before). The aura at the Warbler tables would have been tense if it were not for the one thing that had required the most adjustment since he arrived at Dalton: the fact that the Warblers as a group were collectively insane.

David and Charlie appeared to be plotting pranks, and Kurt would have _sworn_ that he saw them slip something into both Blaine and Wes' food at two different points during lunch, but neither affected Warbler seemed to notice. Kurt mentally hoped that what they had snuck into Wes' food was a sedative, because the Head Warbler had been talking his ear off about Regionals all lunch. He couldn't count the number of times Wes had asked him to divulge the weaknesses of the New Directions, despite the fact that he had ignored all of the requests (and orders, which is how Wes eventually defined them when he was tired of being ignored). Thad assured him that Wes couldn't kick him out of the Warblers for failing to be treasonous towards his old Glee club about four 'orders' in, so Kurt had been talking to the saner Warbler ever since, and Wes had gone back to bothering David. Kurt wasn't sure who was more likely to murder Wes at this point: his 'subordinates' or his boyfriend.

Kurt thankfully didn't have last class with Blaine, and he was in the process of packing the Navigator for his trip home when he remembered that the tenor had asked to join him in Lima for the weekend. That was the part of the conversation that paled in comparison to its sexually-charged counterpart (so far, there wasn't a day of the week he couldn't use that term to describe, and it was terribly annoying). Apparently, Blaine _also_ had remembered that, because Kurt jumped about a foot and squeaked like a mouse when a bag almost whacked him in the head as Blaine slung it into the Navigator. "Sorry, but I didn't think you would want me wearing my Dalton uniform all weekend," the tenor said with a grin, looking Kurt in the eye for the first time all day. "Ready to head out?"

"I have to either go fetch Pavarotti or ask Chris to watch him," Kurt explained, handing Blaine the keys to his baby and heading back up to his dormitory. Turning around at the entry and glad his car was within sight, he noticed Blaine close the trunk (without slamming it) and hop automatically into the passenger seat, almost tripping and falling out of the car. Kurt laughed at Blaine's lack of grace (since the tenor couldn't hear him) before heading into Stevenson.

Chris was in their dorm, and there was no sign of Chrissy, which surprised the former New Directioneer. Chris had developed a habit of sneaking his girlfriend into the school on Friday nights (especially when Kurt was headed home for the weekend) and then pretending that she had shown up on Saturday morning for Visiting Day. Kurt made it very clear that he didn't care what Chris did in their room while he was gone, as long as nothing occurred on his bed or any non-washable communal property (he had to specify that his desk was also off-limits when Chris had asked, making a face at his roommate).

Chris was actually reading a book, a non-English-assigned book, when Kurt walked back in, and the countertenor rolled his eyes at his roommate as Chris suddenly stuffed it under the covers at Kurt's arrival. "I don't suppose blackmailing you with the fact that you actually enjoy reading would convince you to watch Pavarotti this weekend?" Kurt asked with a grin as Chris looked sheepishly at him and brought the book back out. Kurt chose not to comment on the title: Sense and Sensibility.

"Do you really want me and Chrissy to traumatize your bird?" Chris asked with a raised eyebrow, and Kurt sighed.

The countertenor picked up the canary's cage and took a look at a very happy Pavarotti, who whistled at him. Kurt whistled in return before slipping the cage-cover he had purchased on the internet on and then grabbing and packing enough food for the weekend. He really needed to start storing canary food at home, which was just a ridiculous sentence. "You're a terrible roommate," he muttered, even though it wasn't true.

"Does he usually come home with you?" Chris asked, ignoring Kurt's statement, and Kurt didn't stop packing as he answered his roommate.

"Pavarotti? He's my pet," Kurt quipped, but Chris just gave him a long look. "It's not unusual," he said as he packed the canary case that had come with the cage cover. "He stayed with my family over Christmas break, so everyone is rather fond of him."

"Even knowing that he kind of emotionally abuses you?" _That_ was enough to make Kurt turn to face his roommate.

"Excuse me?" he demanded rather harshly, a little outraged on Blaine's behalf at the accusation.

"I know you're head-over-heels for him and everything, so you don't see it, but he doesn't treat you all that well." Kurt stared at his roommate icily, waiting for an explanation and apology. "He's flirted with you constantly for as long as I've known you, for as long as _you've_ known _him_ if I can believe Charlie." Since when were Charlie and Chris conspiring against him? "So, he strung you along, and then he makes you help him convince the Warblers to serenade someone else on Valentine's Day."

"He didn't-" Kurt tried to interject, but Chris interrupted him, obviously not _near_ done.

"You say he was oblivious and didn't know, whatever, but then you _told_ him, flat out, that you are interested in him and he gives you some bullshit excuse about being a bad boyfriend. Then he does the same thing, with Marcus and Rachel and booze. You can't tell me he hasn't hurt you." Kurt didn't try. "But I think it was this week that pissed me right off. Whatever the hell he said to you about your appearance was out of line."

"He was the one who suggested I sing with him, he didn't mean to-" Kurt once again tried to defend Blaine, speaking quickly to get his point in, but Chris shut him down.

"I don't care about his _intentions_, Kurt, I really don't. Road to hell, and all of that. He made you briefly anorexic last night, and that is _not_ okay." Chris' expression was firm. "The person you're dating, the person you _want_ to date," Chris corrected himself before Kurt could, "is supposed to make you feel _good_ about yourself, not the opposite. I don't even see how you can _respect_ him, never mind like him."

"I…" Kurt tested the waters to see if he was finally allowed to speak. "I never said it was rational, Chris, but there's absolutely _nothing_ rational about romance. I could give you a thousand examples of nonsensical things done for love." He really could, thanks to the twelve weirdos he loved the most.

"I don't care how fucked up the New Directions are," Chris said sharply. "What goes on at that school is _not_ normal, and your relationship with Blaine, however you define it, is _not_ healthy."

"Chris…" Kurt was about to argue with his roommate, and then Blaine's words from Crawford Country Day returned to his head. _"It just looked like you were having gas pains or something."_ Kurt signed and picked up his canary. "I'm not discussing this with you," he said eventually, having no defense.

"Whatever, man, it's your life," Chris said, opening Sense and Sensibility again. "You can live it however you want."

"I'll see you Sunday," was all Kurt had to say.

"I come here with no expectations," Chris muttered to himself as Kurt left, "only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be yours." Kurt rolled his eyes and closed his door behind him.

* * *

><p>By the time Kurt reached the Navigator and an eagerly-waiting Blaine with Pavarotti, Chris' words were starting to sink in, and Kurt hated his roommate for it.<p>

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said cheerily as Kurt loaded the cage into the spacious backseat, making sure to secure it. "Hello, there, Pav," Blaine said to the bird, doing the whistle from _The Lazy Song_ and making the canary coo happily. Pavarotti was rather fond of Blaine. "Ready to head out?" the tenor asked after greeting the bird.

"Absolutely," Kurt said as he got in the driver's seat and started the engine. They were on the highway before Kurt asked. "Remind me why, exactly, you wanted to come home with me?"

"Because I missed the calm relaxation of a weekend with the New Directions," his travel companion replied, making the driver laugh. "I told you last night: I have an idea."

"Why does that make me incredibly nervous?" Kurt asked, to which Blaine just shrugged. "You're not going to tell me ahead of time, are you?" Blaine grinned, which was enough of an answer. They passed a few of the seventeen-thousand Columbus exits before he asked the big question. "Are we going to talk about it?"

"About…?" Blaine said slowly.

"Last night."

"I thought last night _was_ talking about it." Now Kurt remembered why they had a tacit agreement not to talk about awkward almosts: Blaine was an idiot. "Depending on what 'it' is, of course."

"Blaine-" Kurt was starting to get really sick of being interrupted.

"Last night, I admitted that you are attractive to me," Blaine said calmly, and a quick death-defying glance over revealed the tenor was looking straight ahead, out the windshield, instead of at Kurt. "And, objectively, you are. That doesn't change anything. I'm not going to drag you into the backseat and have my wicked way with you, not that I think you would let me." Blaine grinned at him, but suddenly Kurt wasn't feeling very cheerful. '_Objectively_' was a very important distinction Blaine had _not_ made the night before.

"I knew that," was all Kurt said, reaching over to turn on the radio, his fingers brushing Blaine's as they obviously had the same idea to alleviate the sudden tension.

Blaine snorted as he withdrew his hand, letting Kurt pick the music. "I'm having terrible Twilight flashbacks: 'Your skin is… so cold.'"

"Oh, shut up, you hater." Kurt turned up the Lady Gaga just for that, making Blaine groan. He was such a Katy.

_There he goes  
><em>_My baby walks so slow  
><em>_Sexual tic-tac-toe  
><em>_Yeah, I know we both know  
><em>_It isn't time  
><em>_But would you be m-mine_

_We'll never get too far  
><em>_Just you, me, and the bar  
><em>_So in a ménage à trois sometimes  
><em>_Would he be m-mine? Would he be m-mine?  
><em>_Would you be m-mine?_

_Oh, baby, lights on  
><em>_But your mom's not home  
><em>_I'm sick of laying down alone  
><em>_With this fever, fever, yeah  
><em>_I want it all  
><em>_Now I'm gonna get you alone  
><em>_Give you a fever, fever, yeah_

"I can't believe you like Twilight," Blaine teased, but he let it go after a few miles of debate. "Are you joining the 'Kill Wes' brigade?"

"There's a brigade?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow but not daring to take his eyes off the road again. "Aren't brigades for the military?"

"Well, we're kind of living in a militant state," Blaine joked, and that was the end of all attempts at serious conversation.

* * *

><p>Carole was home by the time Kurt and Blaine arrived in Lima (she had obviously worked the early shift), and she greeted them both with hugs and kisses and cookies. Kurt didn't have the heart to object to the calories in the face of so much motherly love. "I didn't know you were joining us this weekend, Blaine," she said as she poured them complementary glasses of milk.<p>

"I'm sorry to drop in unannounced," Blaine said, properly polite as a Dalton boy should be. "I don't mean to intrude, but joining Kurt in Lima was a spur-of-the-moment decision." Nothing about Blaine's tone suggested his doubtlessly maniacal plan or exactly what had happened the previous night. "If it's too much of an imposition, I can get a hotel-"

Carole didn't even let him finish the sentence. "It's not an imposition at all; you're always welcome here. I just thought you would be sick of my step-son by now," she said with a smile as she turned back to her task of cooking dinner. Burt would be home in about an hour, since it was just past four thirty. "Now, should I make up the guest room… or will you be sleeping in Kurt's bed again?" she asked with a wicked grin, and Blaine turned as red as Kurt felt.

"Mrs. Hummel, I-"

"It's still Mrs. Hudson, honey, and I was kidding." Blaine gave Kurt a betrayed look, like he should have been warned about Carole's last name. "Burt is overprotective of Kurt, you should know that, and he's cautious enough with his baby boy for all of us." She smiled at Blaine, who still looked sheepish. In front of anyone else, Kurt would have objected to the term 'baby boy' but he knew that Blaine wouldn't judge him, and that was definitely how his father thought of him most of the time (the phrase 'Daddy's little girl' came to mind for the rest of the time, but Kurt ignored that thought. He needed to be better about ignoring the things that got stuck in his thoughts).

"Nothing inappropriate happened, I swear," Blaine promised.

"I believe you, honey, but the more you say that around Burt, the more it will sound like denial." Carole looked to the heavens for strength. "I'll make up the guest room after dinner."

"I can do it, Carole, I know where everything is," Blaine insisted immediately.

"Far be it from me to deny a man who knows the meaning of chivalry," Carole said with a smile.

"Do you mind if we head upstairs before dinner?" Blaine asked, "We have an online assignment we need to get in before five." Blaine lied very smoothly for someone who didn't do it very often. What was he up to?

"Not at all, honey, dinner will be in about an hour and I'll have Finn set the table." Kurt had yet to see evidence of his step-brother's presence, but he was more concerned about whatever Blaine was planning.

The tenor practically skipped up the stairs and into Kurt's room, knowing the layout of the house as well as Kurt himself did. Kurt became even more concerned when he took a seat on the bench of Kurt's vanity, directly in front of the mirror. He tended to mock Kurt's vanity and the elaborate assortment of hair and facial products that adorned it; Kurt knew with absolute certainty the only reason he would willingly ally himself with the vanity was for the mirror.

Knowing he wouldn't get any answers yet, Kurt sat on the bench next to him, well able to see both Blaine and himself, as well as the rest of the room, in the mirror. What were they doing? "Now, show me sultry," Blaine said, looking at Kurt and gesturing to the mirror. Kurt just stared at him. "What? You don't think that's sultry, do you? It looks more… angry." Kurt couldn't tell if the tenor was teasing or not, but either way he wasn't being funny.

"You've officially lost it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Blaine, what the hell are we doing?" Kurt asked, and he could tell by the sigh he got in response that Blaine was finally going to answer his question.

"You're not comfortable purposefully acting sexy. And I get that!" Blaine added hastily when Kurt glared at him, putting a hand gently on his knee in a comforting gesture. "But in order to win at Regionals, that needs to change. So, safe space, no judgment. Your, uh… _motions_ are good, in terms of performance, it's the facial expressions we need to work on, so we will."

"You want me to try to make sexy faces? Proper ones," Kurt added before Blaine could. Of course 'proper' was according to Blaine's definition, not his, but that was beside the point.

"Yes," the tenor confirmed.

"Here? In my room? With the door closed? All alone? With you?" Kurt asked, trying to subtly convey his discomfort.

"Yes," Blaine said again, calmly, and clearly the countertenor was giving his perception too much credit. If there was ever a time to be obvious, it was with Blaine. "Come on, it's fine. It's just me," Blaine said with a warm smile that made little butterflies whirl in Kurt's stomach, and the countertenor sighed.

"Fine."

"Okay," Blaine gave him a brilliant smile before becoming serious. "All right, so give me… sensual. But don't make fun of it. Like, really try." Kurt felt obliged, mostly because Blaine looked so excited and pleased with himself, so he tried. And he looked ridiculous.

"Okay," was all Blaine said in reaction. "Now give me… sultry." Again, he tried, and he continued to look absolutely ridiculous. He knew Blaine was thinking that because the tenor was looking down instead of in the mirror, and as he started to speak, it sounded like he was holding back laughter. "Um, Kurt, they're-they're all sort of looking the same."

Resisting the urge to glare at him, Kurt replied, "That's because the face I'm actually doing is uncomfortable." He gripped his knees as he spoke, a nervous habit that he knew Blaine would pick up on. "This is pointless, Blaine," he said, standing up so he didn't have to look at himself in the mirror any longer and instead turning to face his friend. "I don't know how to be sexy because I-I don't know the f-first thing about sex."

"Kurt, you're blushing," Blaine said, giving him a teasing smile, and he sounded unreasonably surprised. Still, the countertenor know he was right, he could actually feel his face heating up.

"I've tried watching _those_ movies," oh, Gaga, why was he admitting this? Blaine looked shocked, "but I just get… horribly depressed. And I think about how they were all kids once, and they all have mothers, and, God, what would their mothers think, and why would you get that tattoo _there_?" He didn't know if Blaine watched porn, he didn't ask, but he was a teenage male and he probably did and he was looking remarkably calm and nonjudgmental for someone probably thinking 'God, what is wrong with this guy? _Is_ he even a guy?'

"Then maybe we should have a conversation about it," Blaine said calmly, turning to face Kurt and crossing his legs up underneath him, Indian style. "I'll tell you what I know," which was absolutely everything and _God_, how embarrassing would it be to have the sex talk with the one person with whom he would actually consider… His face was getting redder by the minute, he just knew it.

"I-I don't… I don't want to know the graphic details." Especially not _Blaine_'s graphic details, especially not with other people, and especially not… oh, _God_, this was so embarrassing. Kurt laced his fingers anxiously. "I like _romance_." Blaine's expression was indecipherable, mouth partially open and eyebrows slightly raised. "That's why I like Broadway musicals, because… the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets." Most of the time, at least, though a particularly embarrassing incident at _RENT_ came to mind as Kurt spoke.

"Kurt, you're going to have to learn about it someday." Blaine's voice was calm and somber, his beautiful hazel eyes filled with concern and what Kurt was absolutely sure was a touch of disappointment and pity.

"Well, not today." He looked away from the tenor. "I think I've learned quite enough for today, thank you. I think you should leave." Kurt nodded at Blaine to acknowledge his request, and though Blaine looked still hurt and concerned, he obeyed Kurt's wish and left the room.

* * *

><p>Blaine closed the door behind him and waited for a few minutes outside, but he didn't hear anything from inside. He didn't exactly expect to, he knew Kurt was perfectly capable of being an absolutely silent crier, but he hoped he hadn't upset his best friend too much.<p>

Nothing better to do, Blaine descended the stairs, careful not to step on the creaky third one and alert his already-upset friend that he had been lurking upstairs. Burt wasn't home yet, and Blaine was rather thankful for that. He had a feeling the overprotective father would be even _less_ happy with him if he were to discover what had just occurred in Kurt's bedroom. Which made the incident sound _way_ more provocative than it was.

Carole was cooking and Finn (who had emerged from the woodwork at some point while Kurt and he were upstairs) was setting the table. "Hey, dude," he said politely. "You here for the weekend?"

"I… I don't think so," was the honest response, and he probably shouldn't have admitted that, because Carole was starting to look concerned.

"Why not, honey? Did something happen?" Carole's eyes flickered up the stairs towards where Kurt was doubtlessly staring contemplatively out the window, nervous and terrified by a concept that was fairly commonplace to most people. Blaine had only been trying to help.

"I… I'm not sure," Blaine said honestly. "Either way, I think it would be best if I got a hotel room for the weekend. And I'm sure it would make Mr. Hummel feel better regardless, considering what happened last weekend." Finn nodded, but Carole looked upset.

"Honey, regardless of what happened last weekend, or even what happened upstairs a few minutes ago while you _clearly_ weren't doing any sort of online assignment and I can't believe you thought that excuse would work on someone with two sons," she gave Blaine a hard look which was clearly intended to guilt him, "you are always welcome in this house. Besides, didn't Kurt drive you?"

"Yes," Blaine admitted, picking up Kurt's eyes, "but I don't think he really wants to see me right now. I'll just… grab my stuff and go. I might be back later, depending on how he's feeling."

"I can drive you-" Carole started, but Blaine stopped her.

"I'll call a cab, but thank you," Blaine said politely, picking up Kurt's car keys. Thankfully, both of their bags were still in the back of the Navigator, since he had been in a hurry to apparently pressure Kurt into a sex talk.

"The number is on the fridge," Carole said, and Blaine didn't bother to ask why.

"419-222-6161," Blaine recited, though he couldn't quite remember why he had that number in his head, "but thank you."

"At least stay for dinner," she implored, but Blaine shook his head.

"I'll go out and get something," he assured her when she gave him a worried-mother stare. "I promise."

"All right," Carole said, stopping her cooking to give him a very warm hug. "You're welcome to stay." Finn hadn't said anything in a while, he was kind of just staring at Blaine in a way that wasn't particularly intimidating, though the tenor wasn't sure if that was the jock's goal in the first place.

"No, thank you," Blaine said, going out to Kurt's car and grabbing his bag. He left them on the lawn and carried Kurt's inside, dropping the countertenor's car keys back on the counter where he had left them. He then went outside, called for a cab, sat on his bag, and waited.

He wasn't really sure what to do about Kurt. He knew where his attempt to reach out to Kurt had gone wrong; he wasn't that much of an idiot. Kurt wasn't comfortable talking to him about sex. And that was fine, he respected the countertenor's boundaries, but the problem was Kurt was a seventeen-year-old male and didn't seem comfortable talking to _anyone_ about sex. He would always be naïve if he wasn't forced to talk about it, and thus he would be predator-and-asshole-bait for the rest of his life. Except Blaine couldn't be the one to force him to talk, for reasons obvious to everyone. Who could?

Rachel was out, she didn't even like talking about sex herself. Most of Kurt's girl friends were out for the very same reason. Santana or Brittany would traumatize him as would any of the Warblers (providing Blaine could face the mocking and teasing that would come with _that_ proposal). None of the guys would talk to him about _gay_ sex, _especially_ not Finn (the last person Blaine would _ever_ want to talk to about gay sex). Carole was far too sweet, warm-hearted, and motherly to ever _force_ Kurt into an uncomfortable conversation.

That only left one person…

The cab he had called pulled up as Blaine started to plan what he was going to say to Kurt's father.

* * *

><p>Blaine made Kurt upset a lot of the time, which was not cool. But the little Dalton dude also seemed to make Kurt really happy the rest of the time, which was… confusing. Either way, Finn knew his step-brother had a huge crush on the guy, no matter what he said, so whatever went down could <em>not<em> have been good. Finn didn't hear any nose from Kurt's room when he went up instead of letting Burt call Kurt down for dinner (his step-father had given him a very curious look, but Mom had shook her head at her new husband), which was concerning. Kurt usually played music, even when he was sad, and Finn was kinda worried his little bro was in there crying over Blaine. It wouldn't be the first time.

He knocked twice. "Kurt, dinner."

"Be down in a minute," came the usual answer immediately. Kurt didn't sound teary (he had seen enough of Kurt miserable to know that tone), but he didn't sound quite right either.

Hearing northing from inside to indicate that Kurt was moving around, he headed back downstairs.

"…left in a cab," he heard his mom saying, telling Burt what had happened earlier.

"How's Kurt?" was the gruff but obviously concerned reply.

"I haven't seen him since, he hasn't left his room," Mom answered, and Finn knew even without seeing Burt's face that the man wasn't happy.

"I'm starting to wonder if that kid is the best thing for my son," the overprotective father grumbled.

"We don't know what happened, Burt," she reminded him. "Maybe he was in a hurry to leave because _he_ didn't want to see or talk to _Kurt_." She sighed. "Besides, it's not like we have much choice in the matter. Kurt loves him." Wait, what?

"Well, I love my kid," Burt said gruffly, "and I don't want that stupid prep school boy to break my son's heart." Finn could tell that Burt was uncomfortable, but it had to be weird for him having Blaine around. He was the first option Kurt had ever really had, which was probably part of the reason Kurt put up with all his crap.

"Kurt can take care of himself, Burt," she reminded him firmly.

"Is there a reason you're eavesdropping?" Kurt whispered from a few stairs above him, scaring the crap out of him.

"Dude!" he protested the sneakiness.

"They're talking about Blaine, aren't they?" Kurt asked, obviously not feeling sorry for startling Finn.

"What happened?" he asked, but Kurt immediately shook his head.

"You don't want to know," was his worrying answer. "Can we go downstairs now?"

Finn didn't bother to argue, knowing Kurt wouldn't tell him anything he didn't want Finn to know. Instead, he headed down the stairs with Kurt on his heels, effectively ending Burt and Mom's conversation.

"Hey, honey, how are you?" Mom said gently as she served dinner to her husband.

Kurt's answer was the two worst words to ever come from his mouth: "I'm fine." Finn almost groaned out loud, because he knew that meant Kurt wasn't fine at all. What the hell had Blaine done?

"Blaine left in a hurry," Burt commented, not looking at his son. He knew the meaning of those words as well as Finn did.

"Guess he had somewhere to be," was Kurt's calm reply, and he didn't seem concerned or surprised that Blaine had left the house.

"Did you two argue?" Mom asked innocently.

"No," was Kurt's simple lie, and Finn could see how tempted Burt was to call bullshit on his son's answer. But Kurt's dad didn't really know how to talk to his son about boys, so he didn't say anything, focusing on his dinner.

"How's Dalton?" Mom asked.

"Good," came the first true thing Kurt had said in a while. "Everyone's really geared up to take the New Directions down at Regionals." Kurt smirked in his brother's direction.

"Oh, you're going _down_," Finn teased right back, and Blaine wasn't mentioned again during the dinner. Finn tried to talk to find out what happened later that night, but his step-brother wasn't going to tell him anything, and he had no way of getting in contact with Blaine.

* * *

><p>How much damage could somebody put a car through before they decide have it fixed? Apparently, a ridiculous amount, Burt thought, resisting the urge to kick the front of the car in frustration. That would only make more work for him though. It hadn't exactly been an easy weekend, and Kurt had refused to come help him at the shop to take his mind off things.<p>

"Need a hand?" A voice called, and Burt looked up. Great, it was that prep kid he had found in Kurt's bed the other day and the one who had clearly upset him the night before. Just who he wanted to see.

"Yeah, why don't you hand me that carburetor?" Perhaps it was cruel, but it would be funny to watch the kid guess which one it was. Burt was surprised when the kid immediately picked the right one. "How'd you know which one it was?" Blaine hadn't been much help when he had been at the shop during Christmas.

"My dad and I rebuilt a '59 Chevy in my driveway two summers ago. One of his, uh, many attempts at bonding," Blaine looked amused and was laughing slightly.

"You here looking for parts?" Please, be here looking for parts.

"No, actually, I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Kurt." What could he possibly want to discuss about Kurt? Maybe he was asking him permission to date his son (and Burt felt bad that the idea still sounded a little weird to him), but there was no way in hell he was getting that.

"Is he okay?" Maybe Blaine was there to fess up to upsetting him.

"Have you ever talked to him about... sex?" Oh, God.

"Are you gay? Or straight? Or what?" Because if he was straight, this was just ridiculous.

"I'm definitely gay," was Blaine's definitive answer. Good.

"Okay, good. I mean, you know, whatever, but, uh, good for Kurt. He needs... someone like you... to talk to him." How was Burt supposed to talk to his son about... that? For one, it was his baby boy, he shouldn't be growing up so fast. For another, Burt knew less, probably, about... things like that for... people like Kurt than Kurt did.

"Well, that's kind of my point. I've tried talking to him, but he basically puts his fingers in his ears and starts singing." Maybe Kurt wasn't growing up as fast as he had thought, as fast as this Blaine kid thought.

"Well, when he's ready, he'll listen." Kurt was responsible, and mature, and could make these kinds of decisions for himself.

"I'm... worried that it might be too late." What? "Did you know Dalton doesn't even have sex-ed classes? Most schools don't, and the ones that do almost never discuss what sex is like for gay kids." Unneeded mental images sprung to Burt's mind, and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Andy was listening. Christ, just what he needed. "Kurt is-is the most moral, compassionate person I've ever met." Damn right he was.

"You know, he gets that from his mother."

"And I'm blown away by your guys' relationship." Huh? "You think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? I think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight." Burt was ashamed of parents like that, the ones who couldn't understand or accept their kids.

"Yeah. He talk to you about... this, uh, kind of stuff?"

"No. I had to go find it for myself." Kurt could do that, couldn't he? "The Internet is great, and all the information is out there, but I went searching for it, Kurt won't." Right now, what he really respected about the kid (not that he'd ever show it) was the amount of caring he showed for his son, but, honestly, this was none of his business. "And one day, he'll be at a party and maybe have a few drinks, and-and he'll meet some guy and start fooling around." His son would never do that. "And-and he's not going to know about using protection or STD's." God, the kid was bringing horrible nightmares. Thoughts of his son, lying in a hospital bed, dying of AIDS, because some jackass took advantage of his innocence and didn't use a condom. "I don't have the relationship with my dad that you have with Kurt. I... think it would be really cool if you took advantage of that. I-I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

"You are." The kid just walked out of the garage, leaving Burt with some heavy thoughts.

"Well, that was interesting," Andy cracked a grin. He had known Andy for years, he had been a long-time employee of the garage, and he was Kurt's godfather. Maybe he'd have some advice.

"I can't decide if I hate or admire that kid," Burt said honestly. Being in Kurt's bed and fooling around with Rachel and making Kurt upset at every turn versus bringing Kurt to safety at Dalton and trying to protect him in as many ways as possible, including ways that made Burt uncomfortable.

"I like him. I'm surprised he made it out of that conversation alive, and that he had the balls to come talk to you about that," Andy tried to joke, but it fell a little flat with the concerned father. "He's right, y'know," he added, grabbing Burt's wrench to work on the old car.

"Whad'ya mean 'he's right?'"

"You need to talk to Kurt about sex. You should have done it before this, considering he's seventeen and he's your only son, but no time like the present!" Perhaps it was a good thing Andy had taken the wrench from Burt, otherwise it would be embedded in the side of his head by now. "Honestly, Burt, he's your son. It's not like you have to go look up the information and tell it to him. Just get the kid some pamphlets, you don't even have to look at them."

"Where would I get these... pamphlets?"

"Doctor's offices, clinics, even the goddamn school guidance counselor has them." Andy rolled his eyes. "What I'd do is give him the pamphlets and talk to him about the emotional side."

"Why?" Kurt was a compassionate and shy kid, he didn't really have to worry about that... right?

"Do you remember high school at all? You were probably the worst about keeping it in your pants! Your only impediment was how prudish girls could be. Well, Kurt doesn't have that problem. With two guys, it'd be easy to lose the emotional part of it, the vulnerability involved, and the connection it makes between two people." Damn, Andy could sound like an Ivy-League-brat sometimes.

"You know how I feel when you're right, that feeling I hate?" Andy nodded. "Feeling like that right now." Burt had been saying this for years, Andy grinned.

"I'm always right." Now Burt rolled his eyes.

"I still don't think I like him." For one thing, Burt had caught the kid in his son's bed, and now he was urging Burt to talk to Kurt about sex. Seemed fishy to him.

"I do. He's obviously head-over-heels for our Junior." The guys at the garage had been calling Kurt that since he was three.

"Sure. I'd like him more if I didn't catch him in Kurt's bed the other day."

Andy just snorted. "Yeah, like Kurt would ever let that happen. Be realistic, Burt."

* * *

><p>He was waiting on Blaine's bed when the tenor got back to Dalton, which wasn't exactly a surprise to Blaine. However, he seemed very surprised to see the rightful occupant of the room had returned. "What are you doing here?" Charlie asked casually, thankfully not doing anything inappropriate in Blaine's room.<p>

"Where's Lucas?" Blaine asked, equally as casual.

"He was driving me crazy," his crazy best friend said without blinking. "It's been a long weekend."

"It's…" Blaine checked his watch, "one thirty on Saturday."

"Yes, well, I'm guessing I'm not the only one who's already had a long weekend. Why are you here?" Charlie asked again, his tone slightly more accusatory.

"Kurt and I had a small spat," he admitted, and his best friend glared at him.

"About?"

"I would-" Blaine was about to express his desire not to specify, but Charlie beat him to it.

"Sex. You argued about sex, you dirty harlot." Charlie didn't sound teasing.

"Kurt kicked me out of his house, I found a hotel room to stay in-"

"On such short notice?"

"Apparently, Lima isn't a very popular tourist destination, which isn't shocking. Anyway, I ate at BreadstiX, and I hopped on a Greyhound to Columbus this morning." Blaine skipped right over the detail about talking to Kurt's father. He knew Charlie wouldn't approve of the plan, plus it hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. Word vomit had ensued the moment he was faced with Burt, and he had forgotten Kurt's father was as reserved on a daily basis as Kurt could sometimes get, and the fact that Burt hadn't spoken much only made him talk _more_. While he knew Burt loved his son dearly, it hadn't exactly shown through their conversation, and Blaine had absolutely no idea what Kurt's father was going to do. He could only hope that Burt would take his advice.

"Good," was Charlie's only reaction, and when Blaine looked at him in surprise, the crazy boy elaborated. "We've pretty much reached the point where Kurt could be kicking your ass upside down and sideways for being such a dick. Come on, Blaine, we're long past the point where you can pretend Kurt doesn't have feelings for you, and if you tell me you don't like him in return, _I_ will be the one kicking your ass. What gives?"

"You really think now is the time for _this_ conversation?" Blaine asked. "Kurt's upset, and he probably doesn't even want to talk to me right now."

"I wouldn't blame him," Charlie said coolly. "Why the hell are you trying to talk to him about sex anyway?"

"…He's a virgin," Blaine said, feeling dumb and obvious, but there was really no other answer.

"And what's wrong with that?" Blaine had to do a double-take at that one, because _what_? "Come on, Blaine, Kurt is a shy, seventeen-year-old gay male living in a red state. With the exception of everyone who goes to this school because we're all ridiculous human beings, most people would make the assumption that he would be and be fine with that. There's nothing _wrong_ with being a virgin, especially not at our age or in Kurt's situation."

Blaine sat down in Charlie's desk chair, absorbing that statement. "I think I miss the times when you made sex jokes about him."

"And I will continue to, because I wouldn't mind at all being the person to _take_ his virginity, even though that's probably all you, bro, but I don't care that he's a virgin, and neither should you."

"I don't!" Blaine defended himself immediately. "I really don't. There's nothing wrong or weird about him being a virgin, but… I worry about him." Charlie raised an eyebrow, and Blaine could feel his cheeks heating up.

"Because he's a virgin?"

"Because he's _naïve _and-and _uninformed_ and-"

"And you're worried about someone taking advantage of him," Charlie filled in. "Blaine, he doesn't need your protection, or your interference. You trying to push him into having the sex talk, or having anything _else_," Charlie added firmly, with a glare, "is only going to make him more uncomfortable."

Blaine ran a hand nervously through his hair, ignoring the sticky squish he encountered. "I may have done that a little…"

"Anderson, what _exactly_ did you do?"

"Well, he admitted to me that he doesn't know anything about gay sex, which didn't exactly surprise me, and then _I_ offered to talk to him about it-"

"Which of course freaked him right out, you jackass," Charlie said unforgivingly.

"That's when he kicked me out, so earlier today… I may have… suggested—rather insistently—that Kurt's father talk to him about it, which in my defense is something that he should have already done anyway…" Blaine stopped talking as his words got faster and faster, because his crazy best friend had groaned and put his head in his hands.

"You are a disaster zone, Blaine Anderson. We should put up biohazard signs around your regular hang-outs and sing Britney Spears songs at you. Honestly, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that it's normal and okay for someone his age to not know _anything_ about sex," Blaine defended his decision, and when Charlie looked up at him, his crazy best friend looked far from amused.

"Of course not, Blaine, it would be ideal for _someone_ to give him the sex talk, but it's his decision to go looking for information, and besides getting the talk from _you_, which would be horribly embarrassing and possibly quite arousing," Blaine blushed, because he hadn't even thought of that, "asking his straight-as-an-arrow and not-terribly-comfortable father to talk to him about the kind of sex Burt _definitely_ does not know about is going to be the most traumatizing thing in the history of ever. Honestly, why do you lack the basic human interaction skills that tell other people these things?"

"I…" Blaine trailed off, because there was no good answer to that run-on question.

"So this whole 'I'll Teach You All About Sex, Little One, But I Still Won't Admit That I Have Feelings For You And Will Continue Stringing You Along' thing needs to stop. You need to leave Kurt and his private business and his sex life or lack thereof _alone_." Blaine nodded. "Kurt's not the time to go out to a bar and start flirting anyway." Charlie had a point. "Plus, I'm sure at some point, you'll be able to give Kurt a very thorough hands-on lesson about all the finer points of-"

"And you're done," Blaine said, grabbing his crazy best friend off his bed and shoving Charlie out the door. He would give Kurt the weekend to calm down, and then do some damage control, because he had an apology to make to his best friend. Possibly several.

* * *

><p>Kurt hadn't heard from Blaine since he had received a text the day before telling him that the tenor was leaving Lima and heading back to Dalton. The tone was aloof and cold, which Kurt guessed was Blaine's sad attempt to be neutral, but he didn't answer the text. Embarrassment played a big part in that, but also a little bit of anger: Blaine had no right to decide about his education and make him feel uncomfortable in his own damn house. It was none of Blaine's business what he knew and didn't know, and he was one of the <em>last<em> people Kurt wanted to talk to about that sort of thing. The only person below him on that list was his father, for obvious reasons.

Kurt had just eaten lunch and was cleaning up the kitchen, brewing coffee, mentally making a list of things he would have to bring back to Dalton later that night, when with a flapping sound, a pamphlet entitled 'Boys, Boys' dropped into his view with a few friends, and Kurt realized his father was standing right there. "What are those?" Kurt asked, looking at them suspiciously instead of up at his father, because judging by the picture on the cover…

"Those are some pamphlets that I picked up from the free clinic. I thought it might help the process along," oh, God, "because it is time you and I had 'the talk.'"

Oh, no, no, no why was this the weekend everyone decided to start thinking about his virginity? "No, it's not," Kurt said automatically, staring at his father in horror.

"Yes, it is."

"La, la, la, la," Kurt started to say to himself over and over, covering his ears, because there was no way this talk was happening. What exactly did his father know about gay sex and oh, God, please, he hadn't actually read those pamphlets, had he? What the hell was he thinking?

"You told me to educate myself," Burt said, starting to talk louder over Kurt's clear objections, and that had come back to bite him in the ass, hadn't it? He wanted his father to be comfortable with the idea of having Blaine around and with Kurt being gay and acting on it, but that didn't mean his father had to play any part in the when-why-or-dear-God-_how_ he went about acting on it. Kurt started to turn away, abandoning the pamphlets, but he could clearly hear his father through the objections.

"Hey, you think this is easy for me? Okay, believe me," his father grabbed him by the arms, steering him towards the kitchen table the same way prisoners on death row were lead to the noose, "I want to do this even less than you do." Somehow, Kurt doubted that, because his father had obviously already been through the traumatizing part (picking up and possibly dear God he hoped not reading the pamphlets), and this was Kurt's nightmare. Well, he'd never had a nightmare about it before, but he guaranteed he would now.

"This is gonna suck for both of us," no puns there, "but we are going to get through it together," Burt let Kurt go, allowing him to walk to his chair under his own power, and the countertenor seriously considered making a run for it and locking himself in his bedroom for the rest of forever, "and we will both be better men because of it."

The look in his father's eyes was serious, and Kurt sat down delicately, willing himself not to panic or vomit or pass out, because he couldn't imagine anything more embarrassing. "Now, first, most of the, um… mechanics of what you're going to be doing is covered in the pamphlets." Kurt let out a small portion of the breath he was holding at that awkward statement. There was no way his dad had read them and wanted to discuss them. Thank anything above. Still, he could already feel his cheeks heating up as he looked down at the pile. "Okay, so, I want you to read them," Burt slid them across the table, "and then I want you to come talk to me about it." Oh, God, no. "Deal?"

"Okay," Kurt said quickly, already standing up to get out of the conversation. There was no way in hell he was discussing any 'mechanics' with his dad, but he could probably escape to Dalton before Burt forced the discussion.

"All right, now," Burt clapped his hands together. "Hey! Sit down, we're just getting started." Oh, no. What else could there possibly be? Kurt sunk back into his chair slowly, wishing that a hole would open up beneath his chair. Even the nightmare inducing landscape of Wonderland would be better than this conversation. "All right," Burt said again. "You know, for most guys, sex is just… y'know, it's this thing we always want to do." Kurt resisted the urge to look at the tabletop only because his dad was looking directly at him. "You know, it's fun, it feels great, but we're not really thinking too much about, y'know, how it makes us feel on the inside or, y'know, how the other person feels about it."

Kurt paused for a moment in his mortification, Rachel unfortunately popping into his head. Maybe this was a conversation Burt should be having with _Finn_ instead. "Women are different?" Because based on some of the girls he'd met, they enjoyed it just as much as guys without thinking of the… ramifications.

"Only because they get that it's about something more than just the physical. Y-you know, when… when you're intimate with somebody in that way, you're… exposing yourself." Kurt resisted the urge to shift in his chair, instead looking down and not meeting his father's eyes. "You know, you're never going to be more vulnerable, and that scares the _hell_ out of a lot of guys. Believe me, I can't tell you how many buddies I've got who have gotten in _way too deep _with a girl who said she was cool with just hooking up."

"But that's not going to happen to me, Dad," Kurt commented, because why was he bringing girls into this anyway? Beyond answering Kurt's question, that was.

"No, it's going to be worse." People started springing to his mind unbidden as his father talked. Wes and David, who thought they could be so casual about everything. Charlie, who had been with _everyone_ and didn't know how to handle a relationship because of it. Unfortunately, the person on his mind the most by far was Blaine. "Okay? Because it's two guys." At least Burt could say that without embarrassment. "With two guys, you've got _two_ people who think that sex is just sex. It's gonna be easier to come by." Television and popular culture confirmed that theory for everywhere except Lima. "And once you start doing this stuff, you're not gonna wanna stop." If Kurt could have gotten any redder, he would have at that. Trust his dad to make him sound like a raging horn dog when he was one of the most celibate people he knew. "You just… you've gotta know that it means something. You know, it's doing something _to you, _to your heart, to your self-esteem… even though it feels like you're just having fun."

"So… you're saying I shouldn't have sex?" That was certainly what it sounded like, like Kurt shouldn't be with anyone until he was sure that they wouldn't hurt him…

"I think on your thirtieth birthday, it is a great gift to yourself."

Kurt gave the 'are you kidding me?' look he wanted to give his dad to the table instead, which included raised eyebrows and an amused quirk of his mouth.

"Kurt…" He refocused on his dad. "When you're ready… I want you to be able to… do everything. But when you're ready, I want you to… use it as a way to connect to another person." Kurt looked away from his dad again, a certain raven-haired tenor springing to his mind again. "Don't throw yourself around, like you don't matter. 'Cause you matter, Kurt."

Kurt didn't say anything for a moment, thinking through his father's last four words in conjunction with everything else that had happened during this accursed week which was finally ending. "Is that it?" he asked, knowing that his father would only get uncomfortable if he knew what his son was thinking, or if he had accidentally turned on Kurt's waterworks.

"That's it," Burt said, nodding. "For now. Can I make you some toast?"

Clearly his dad wanted to talk some more, but he had already eaten, he certainly didn't want to talk more, and he had something besides awkward sexual education on his mind. "I think I'll take it up to my room to eat while I look over my new pamphlets." Or put them in a drawer to be read later and plan out what he was going to say when he laid eyes on his best friend. Kurt picked up the aforementioned objects carefully, tapping them into a neat little stack. His dad was looking at him with a mixture of concern and caring that tugged Kurt's heartstrings enough that he said, "Thank you, Dad."

"You're welcome."

He could hear his father sigh behind him as he walked towards the stairs, hoping that no toast would actually follow. He certainly didn't want his father coming into his room while he was planning, or while he was reading the pamphlets. It hadn't been an easy conversation for either of them, he knew that, and his father had always done his best by Kurt, even in the awkward situations like this one. He would shove down his embarrassment and read the materials his dad had gotten for him, it was the smart thing to do, and he only hoped that Finn never found them snooping around in his room. There was no way he was ever having this conversation again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello, my ever-loyal and thankfully-patient readers. I'm back from the brink of the abyss, and I know I haven't updated in a while (I was doing well updating quickly for a period, but alas, it could not last), but I promise more is forthcoming.**

**It has also come to my attention that it is possible for a portion of my story to be interpreted as, and I quote, 'reverse slut-bashing.' While I'm not sure what that means, or to what portions of my story this phrase can be applied, I do apologize to anyone who took **_**anything**_** that way. I did not write this portion of the story to make fun of or demean virgins (I was one for a super long time), and I hope no one has taken it that way. I try to represent all sides of an issue, and perhaps it was simply where in the story I left off for my little hiatus or perhaps my tendency to make jokes at the expense of poor Kurt, but I apologize if I have made anyone feel negative about oneself.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Animal_' by the Neon Trees (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>The Lazy Song<em>' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)  
>'<em>Fever<em>' by Lady Gaga (or Adam Lambert, whichever version you prefer)

**Reviews are Love.**


	40. Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?

Blaine had classes with Kurt on Monday, but it didn't exactly shock him that the countertenor didn't seem to want to acknowledge his existence, much less talk to him. Kurt didn't even glance his direction during class, a hard feat when their assigned seats were next to each other. Still, Kurt succeeded, and Blaine in return tried to be as _not_-annoying as possible, not engaging his best friend unless the countertenor chose to talk to him. He learned pretty quickly that his existence without Kurt was rather lonely. At lunch, Kurt neglected all three of his normal tables (the Warblers', but he never sat there when he was upset with Blaine, Chris' jock table, which he sat at occasionally with extreme reluctance, and the little table he, Charlie, and Chris occasionally formed when Blaine had been an idiot. And he certainly had), and Blaine didn't see the countertenor at all.

Warblers practice was a different matter, there was no way Kurt could avoid him there, not totally. When Blaine walked in, Kurt was sitting on the couch between Kendrick and Jeff, and judging by the frequent rolling of blue eyes, they were talking about Regionals. Blaine sat in one of the armchairs, the other occupied by Nick. The brunet raised an eyebrow, looking between Kurt and Blaine, but the tenor just shook his head.

"Problems?" Nick asked, the only Warbler quiet enough to ever be subtle. Blaine just nodded in reply, and he could tell Nick was about to ask, but the council interrupted him.

"Attention, Warblers," Wes announced, his voice cutting quickly through the chatter in the room, but there was a sad expression on his face, and his fingers kept twitching. It took Blaine a moment to realize that Wes was gavel-less, and a few of the freshmen looked extremely pleased with themselves. If Wes ever found it, there would be hell to pay. "As you may be aware, our last attempt to..." Wes trailed off, as if trying to find an official-sounding term for 'out-sexify,' "appeal to the primal nature of our audience in a manner significantly better than that of our competition, the New Directions, has failed."

"Though I can't imagine Sexy week is going any better over there," David said, inviting the Warblers to laugh with him. Kurt gave the council a hard look, silently sticking up for his friends.

"Anyway, I have been persuaded to give it one more try, as the potential is there, but the performance was not quite right. We will be doing an impromptu performance for the school next week as a last-ditch attempt to incorporate 'sexiness,'" Wes' tone implied he was greatly offended by the suggestion, "into our performance before Regionals."

"And exactly how did David go about 'persuading' you?" Jeff asked, making everyone laugh and a hint of red appear high on Wes' cheeks.

"The impromptu number in question will be performed with Blaine on lead vocals." It wasn't shocking to Blaine that Wes had simply decided to cut Kurt out of the number. He wasn't the gentlest soul... though Blaine's best attempts to be so had made his best friend so angry, Kurt couldn't even look at him. Hopefully, if his father had spoken to him, the word 'Blaine' had _not_ come up in the conversation, or Kurt may never look at him again.

"And what is the number in question?" Blaine asked, falling into the comfortable role of Vocal Captain and leader of the Warblers (last year, Jeff and Nick had decided the best title for him was Spirit Captain, but he refused to refer to himself as such).

"Open forum?" Michael asked hopefully, but David shook his head.

"The number in question has already been decided," Thad announced coolly, always the third-wheel of the council and by far the quietest.

"The song we are performing is Rod Stewart's classic _Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?_" David informed them with a grin. The reaction to that was generally positive, and Blaine snuck a look over at Kurt, who was muttering with Jeff (probably about the unfair solo distribution, though Blaine couldn't imagine why Kurt would want to try another sexy song).

"Since choreography really isn't our thing," Thad admitted, "we will have what is possibly the Warblers' first ever dance rehearsal tomorrow in the gymnasium." Wes looked ready to add historical accuracy to Thad's rough statement, but David quieted him with a hand on his arm. "Wear comfortable clothes and shoes with good support."

"More elaborate choreography, as well as our expanded set list, may be a way to increase our chances at Regionals," Wes said coolly.

"Not that we need to," someone muttered from behind Blaine, provoking snickers. The laughter died very suddenly when Wes glared in the direction of whoever had spoken.

"I hope you _children_ understand what you're talking about," Wes said icily, and for his sake, Blaine hoped he was just addressing the freshmen (and maybe the sophomores). "This is the first time in _years_ that the Dalton Academy Warblers have not been thwarted at Sectionals by those robotic sycophants, Vocal Adrenaline." Kurt looked surprised at the vitriol in Wes' voice as he addressed their rival show choir; he didn't understand that hatred of VA was absolutely universal in the show choir world. They were fantastic, but heartless and occasionally downright cruel. "Nationals this year is in the Empire City, a former vacation spot and future home for many if not all of you, and we have a good chance of beating our competition, with all due respect to the New Directions and their unique and diversified talents," Wes said with a nod to Kurt, "and we shall not treat this as a joke. We are going to work hard to push every boundary of our performance and our team, and we will try things far out of our collective comfort zone because that is what it will take to win. We are certainly capable of it, but we cannot be stagnant. Ties at Regionals are not accepted: there can only be one winner. Do you want it to be us?" Okay, Wes could never be a football coach, because his passion was more hypnotic than enthusiastic, but everyone was nodding and sitting up. "Good, because that little comment just reinforced my earlier decision that for the week before Regionals, we will have rehearsal every day and compose various set lists in order to ensure no overlap with other teams, as well as to fit whatever general impression we get of the judges." There were no groans, complaints, or objections to that decision, because Wes could be kind of scary in Head Warbler mode.

"Who, unfortunately," David added, "will not be announced until we're standing in front of them to perform."

"Do we know what performance slot we've drawn?" Nick asked from beside him, a very responsible and reasonable question.

"First," Thad answered, "which means we set the tone of the competition and the bar to which everyone else measures up."

"And we don't really have to worry about overlap," Michael muttered, but someone kicked him before he could say it loud enough for Wes to hear.

"We need it to be a high one," Wes said unnecessarily. "For today, we will work on the arrangements for _Do You Think I'm Sexy?_ which may grace one of our set lists if the New Directions follow through on their threat of trying to use sex appeal against the judges." Kurt was rolling his eyes again, because it hadn't exactly been a _threat_ and it hadn't come from the New Directions either, but Wes could believe whatever he wanted.

"How will we know?"

Wes stared down the Warbler who asked that with the world's most insulting 'are you stupid?' look. "If the New Directions decide _not_ to use sex appeal, they will announce it to those of us who are connected to them. If there is no announcement, there is a high probability that they have decided to use sex appeal, in which case we will incorporate _Do You Think I'm Sexy?_ into our set list, providing it passes muster as an impromptu performance." Blaine would swear that Wes was the only person capable of saying the title of their song in complete monotone without a hint of suggestiveness or embarrassment. It was actually rather impressive. "David, please distribute the sheet music. Blaine, come stand in the front." The tenor obeyed Wes, and rehearsal began for real.

* * *

><p>Chris had known it was a dumb idea for Kurt to invite Blaine to his house for the weekend. Rumor had it, Blaine had returned to Dalton on Saturday fresh off a Greyhound, and Chris was willing to believe that was true. He knew his roommate very well, and he could tell that Kurt was upset, even though he was acting very aloof toward everyone, not just Blaine.<p>

Kurt came right back to their room after Warblers' rehearsal, not lingering to chat with anyone or go for his usual post-practice coffee with Blaine (he claimed it was just the little Warbler's routine, but over ninety-nine percent of the time they did it together). "How was practice?" Chris asked, lounging on his bed playing World of Warcraft on his laptop. Which was lame and nerdy, but Kurt never made fun of him for it, so he didn't really care. The only reply to his question was a noncommittal grunt. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not even a little bit," Kurt replied as he pulled out his own computer. Of course Blaine had managed to piss him off, Chris was honestly starting to think that was what the little Warbler did best. But this was unusual, even for Kurt and Blaine. Usually, Kurt was more than ready to bitch and moan about whatever Blaine had done that time, but that didn't seem to be the case this time. Kurt was... simmering, and Chris knew all too well that if one pushed his little roommate too hard, Kurt could come down like the hand of God. He had a feeling this would happen very soon to Blaine, and he was honestly hoping to witness it.

Kurt had been on the computer for about an hour (and Chris would have _sworn_, had it been anyone else, that he was humming that Rod Stewart song about sex as he browsed), and then came a knock on the door. "Come in, Blaine," Chris' roommate said, his voice sicky-sweet, an exaggerated gesture of kindness.

Blaine, clearly having no sense of self-preservation or any sort of survival instinct, did so. Kurt closed the laptop enough to look at him, and the icy stare made him pause in the doorway, two cups from the Lima Bean clutched in his hand. "I brought you coffee," he mumbled rather obviously, holding the peace offering out towards Kurt, even though the pale-skinned boy was far enough away that there was no possibility of him reaching it.

"Thank you," Kurt said coolly, closing his laptop and stowing it underneath his bed (which is what almost everyone at Dalton did, because it was such a handy place to keep things). "Come in," Kurt beckoned. Okay, the calmness was starting to scare Chris, and Blaine clearly felt the same way because he only took a step or two into the room, but it was enough for Kurt to shut the door behind him.

Kurt stepped out from behind Blaine and snatched his coffee out of what looked like a rather tight-grip, and Chris wasn't sure exactly how into superhero movies Kurt's brother was, but Kurt seemed to have the whole movie villain routine _down_. His roommate took a casual sip of coffee before placing the cup on his desk.

"Kurt, before you talk," Blaine said in a rush, although Kurt had given no indication of talking anytime soon, "I came here to apologize." Blaine cleared his throat. "I know we're close, and we've shared a lot of things, but given the... circumstances," Chris rolled his eyes and so did Kurt, "obviously this isn't meant to be one of those things. And I can understand why you feel uncomfortable discussing the finer points of intimacy with me-" Chris hadn't planned on saying anything, mostly because he knew he would witness more of the long-awaited confrontation if he stayed quiet and Kurt semi-forgot he was there (it was easy to do that with roommates, they became fixtures that one is accustomed to), but he choked on his own saliva at that, and Blaine shot him a look.

"Anyway," Blaine continued, "I'm sorry for pushing you. It wasn't worth you feeling uncomfortable, and isn't worth us fighting." He had admirable puppy-dog eyes, Chris observed, but Kurt seemed unmoved, standing by his desk and sipping the coffee Blaine had brought him casually.

"You have one thing right," Kurt said calmly. "This was an absolutely ridiculous thing to do in pursuit of a better 'sexy' performance, considering there's no way the New Directions will use one, and thus we won't." Kurt was remaining pretty calm, minus the sarcastic, clearly audible air quotes, but he didn't sound close to forgiveness.

"Do you really think that's what this was about?" Blaine asked, and, unbelievably, he was the one who sounded outraged. In fact, he seemed so perturbed by this that he dared to take another step closer to Kurt, who still seemed to be simmering in anger. "Kurt, _Animal_ had nothing to do with this!" Kurt raised both eyebrows, and Blaine sighed. "Fine, admittedly, that was where this started. But the conversation we had this weekend," Blaine took another step closer, risking his hand by resting it on Kurt's right arm, the one closest to Chris, and lowering his voice until it was barely audible to someone farther away, clearly trying to block him out of the conversation, "that was about you." Kurt raised his eyebrows just a touch higher. "I know you don't believe me, Kurt, but I didn't offer to teach you about sex because I want to win at Regionals. You matter more to me than that." Kurt didn't soften, not even a little, and Chris was ridiculously proud. "I offered because you're seventeen and... cute," Blaine decided on the word that made Kurt sound the most like a new puppy, "and naïve, and I don't want someone to take advantage of you, okay?"

For a second, just a second, Chris thought Kurt was going to hug him and forgive him, but he underestimated his roommate in that second. Kurt jerked his arm out of Blaine's hold. "You're full of crap, you know that?" Kurt demanded of his best friend, and Blaine looked appropriately surprised. Also, a little horrified. Kurt's eyes were storm gray, his mouth set in a fine line, his gaze angry enough to cower anyone, practically burning a hole in Blaine's head with his eyes. Chris hadn't really seen his roommate truly angry yet, but Kurt was seriously fucking terrifying in that moment.

"Kurt..."

"I believe that you had good intentions, Blaine, but that's still not okay! If anyone here is taking advantage of me, it's you!" Chris mentally cheered for his roommate, finally releasing the anger that had been present all day, actually shoving Blaine back out of his personal space, giving up on his normal composure. "You _know_ that I have feelings for you, and _none_ of what you've done this week has been okay! Hell, most of what you've done since I came to Dalton hasn't been, but I can let go of Jeremiah and Marcus and Rachel because you've been as clueless as I am! But you can't pretend this is fine! Even if we weren't in these 'circumstances,'" Kurt used actual, real life air quotes to shove Blaine's words back in his face, "you're my best friend, Blaine, you're supposed to make me feel good about myself!" Oh, look, Chris' words were making an appearance. "You're not supposed to tell me that I can't be sexy and it looks like I have gas pains and all of this is true because I'm a virgin and I know nothing about sex!"

"I didn't say-" Blaine was quick to defend himself, but Kurt was quicker.

"I'm still talking," Kurt interrupted, his voice low and quiet and dangerous, and Blaine gulped. Kurt was only a few inches taller than Blaine, but it was amazing how the skinny, hundred-pound boy could loom over the little Warbler. Kurt was clearly done yelling, because he kept it up with the low, quiet voice. "It is _none_ of your business how I choose to conduct myself, _especially_ when it comes to sex. Maybe you should worry more about your own actions." Blaine looked dumbstruck. It was awesome. "And while you're at it, you should learn to think through what you're going to say before it pops out of your mouth, because it does affect other people." Blaine was silent, clearly having given up on his weak defense. Kurt also seemed to be at a pause, and Chris was getting goose bumps at the stare-down occurring mere feet from him. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, Blaine," Kurt said, practically a whisper.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," Blaine said again, but he didn't have a leg to stand on, he knew it, and the little Warbler quickly left.

While he had been giving Blaine a piece of his mind, Kurt had stood proud and tall and honestly looked a lot bigger than he was. The second the door closed behind the little Warbler, a soft close, but loud in the dead silence, Kurt seemed to deflate, returning to his normal height and almost shrinking in on himself. He completely abandoned the coffee Blaine had brought him, sitting on the end of the bed and staring at the wall. Chris closed his laptop (because he hadn't been playing WoW for quite a while now and his roommate senses were tingling), stowing it under his bed, sending off a quick text, then going to sit next to Kurt on the end of his bed.

His little roommate still seemed small and beaten-down, so Chris wrapped an arm around his slumped shoulders. "How'd that feel?" he asked, because that had been a long time coming. Longer than he had been around, Chris was sure.

Kurt didn't say anything, but Chris was sure by his expression that he was considering the question. "Cathartic," was his final answer. It was a very frustrating answer.

"Good or bad?" Chris asked, but Kurt just sighed in response and repeated his first answer decisively. "Fine, be that way." Kurt was rolling his eyes, Chris knew it. "We should sneak into the Commons and grab some pizza." In reality, it was actually around dinner time and no sneaking would be required, but saying it like that made everything more fun.

"Consuming a week's worth of cheese and processed meat?" Kurt asked, and Chris was about ready for a twenty-minute lecture on all the reasons pizza was bad for him, but instead Kurt smiled. "Sounds perfect."

Chris grinned at his little roommate and kept his arm wrapped around surprisingly-broad shoulders as they left their dorm room. "Besides, the pizza at Dalton's way healthier than most."

"I would believe you if I hadn't once seen Domino's trucks outside the Commons."

* * *

><p>Charlie was unsurprised by the text he received from Chris just before dinner. He had hung out in the secret staircase during Warblers' rehearsal (because he had no desire to actually be there or sing), and the lack of muttering and laughing from Kurt and Blaine during rehearsal was louder than any camaraderie between them could have been. So when Chris sent him the text (which read 'Througly-btchd out B headed ur way'), he developed a game-plan for how to get through the rest of the night. Even having been the angry one in this situation, Kurt was probably still upset, and left in the hands of Chris, he was subject to Chris' coping mechanisms, primarily food. So Charlie sashayed down to the Commons, and upon seeing Kurt and Chris at a table with a few other Warblers, laughing and eating pizza, he checked Kurt off as 'taken care of' on his mental checklist of unstable people and headed for Blaine's dorm room.<p>

Charlie pulled out his key chain, which contained the keys of many of the Warbler rooms (including some he wasn't supposed to have, and the owners had no awareness of him having) as well as a few old booty-call keys, and tried a couple in Blaine's door before finding the right one. He opened the door, but it was empty and dark. Blaine's bed was still neatly made, indicating the clean freak hadn't been in his room since that morning, and Charlie couldn't resist the urge to un-make the bed before leaving. Because, honestly, who does that?

Still marking Blaine as unaccounted for, Charlie headed for the tenor's favorite little coffee niche in the Ablewhite building, wondering exactly what he had done in a past life (or his current one) to deserve a best friend in such a dramatic, turbulent, terribly-un-romantic relationship. Alas, he discovered no depressed, over-caffeinated Blaine attempting to drink himself to death with coffee. There was one last place Blaine could be, and then Charlie was setting the campus police on his ass.

Good thing for Blaine that Charlie located the tenor in the Warblers' practice room. "So, excited for dance rehearsal tomorrow?" Charlie greeted him mock-cheerily. Even though it was a joke, he was totally going to that; nothing could be more entertaining than watching a bunch of uptight a cappella singers trying to dance sexily. Charlie wouldn't miss that for the world. It was the perfect chance for viral fame on YouTube.

Blaine was playing something absentmindedly on the piano, not even paying attention to Charlie, and the honorary Warbler didn't recognize the lyrics or tune. "_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?_"

Charlie had a feeling Blaine could keep going for a while if he allowed it, but he definitely didn't plan to. And since Blaine was going to ignore anything he said in an attempt to stop him verbally, he clambered onto the piano bench next to Blaine, standing on the shaky old thing, and sat unceremoniously on Blaine's fingers.

"Fuck! Ow!" Blaine exclaimed, pulling his fingers out from underneath Charlie quickly. "What was that for?"

"What's with the sad song?" Charlie asked, knowing whatever song was stuck in Blaine's head said _way_ more about his feelings than any words out of his mouth ever could.

"It proves my point," Blaine said, looking at the piano like he would prefer to run his fingers over its keys as he spoke, but Charlie was very comfortable and didn't plan to move. "Santana and Brittany sang it this week."

"Not very sexy," Charlie said disapprovingly, because if Blaine told this to Wes (or Santana did), dance rehearsal would be cancelled.

"Apparently, sexy week over there has transitioned from an attempt to change their style and Miss Holiday wanting to educate the children," that sounded oddly familiar, "to an exploration of different sexualities and Miss Holiday trying to fix Miss Pillsbury's celibate marriage as Miss Pillsbury does her best to convince everyone abstinence is the best option because that's what she does," Blaine said in perfect monotone.

"...Do the New Directions know what sexy means?" Charlie asked, a little sarcastic but mostly sincere. "Because all of that sounds really depressing."

"This is the school that performed _Fat Bottomed Girls_ for Valentine's Day," Blaine reminded him dully. "We're not going to have to do sexy at Regionals." If Blaine hadn't told Wes this already, he probably wasn't going to. As long as Wes had an avenue for his crazy, the avenue being sexiness in this case, he wasn't making everyone else homicidal. Though Charlie could make no promises for the week leading up to Regionals.

"That'll make Kurt happy," Charlie said casually, leading the conversation with a gentle push instead of his normal rough shove. Blaine seemed unusually fragile.

"I don't think there's anything I could do to make Kurt happy anymore," Blaine said quietly, still staring down at the keys of Charlie's perch.

"Well, I don't think staring at my crotch is going to do it," Charlie teased, but Blaine ignored him completely. "You could always make out with him," he fake-suggested, but still no reaction. "Is this you ready to admit that you want to make him happy?" he asked, slightly more serious.

"Of course I want to make him happy," Blaine replied immediately, in a voice that would have been utterly unconvincing to a third-party observer, "he's my best friend." Charlie resisted the ever-present urge to throttle Blaine, which had suddenly intensified, and instead shifted his words slightly.

"Are you ready to admit that you want to make him happy because you have feelings for him that are more than just friendly?" That was as innocent as Charlie could make Blaine's hot, aching lust for his best friend sound.

"I can't do this to him, Charlie," was the completely unhelpful response.

"Not the correct answer," Charlie said, but Blaine didn't change it. With a sigh, Charlie threw his hands up and went to sit on the piano bench next to Blaine. Immediately, the tenor started running his fingers over the keys without applying enough pressure to make sound. "Elaborate."

"Every time we come so close and then I do something stupid and I hurt him." Charlie couldn't exactly refute that, but something about the wording lodged in his brain.

"Close to what?" There were so many dirty answers to that question being provided by his brain, but the one he really wanted to hear was fairly innocent.

"He yelled at me earlier," Blaine informed him, and yes, that was what he had originally come in to discuss, but he was far more interested in coaxing the 'close' incidents out of Blaine.

"I know, you got bitched out, Chris texted me," Charlie summed quickly. "Close to what?"

"He threw my mistakes back in my face. He told me that I needed to worry more about what I'm doing than what he is. He told me I should think before I speak because my words hurt other people more than I realize." Blaine sounded kind of numb, like he was beyond shocked, in a trance.

"And this is all true and you deserve it," Charlie said unsympathetically. "_Close to what_?"

"I was trying to apologize," Blaine continued as if he didn't hear Charlie at all. "I was trying to make things better, but I messed up again."

"Well, there are some things you just can't apologize for," Charlie said calmly, recognizing (for the moment) that Blaine had moved on to a different avenue of conversation. He would come back to the fact that Kurt and Blaine 'come so close' to something often. "Like blaming Kurt's awkwardness trying to be sexy on his virginity and naivety." Because Kurt was sexy as hell, and Blaine knew this; Charlie had noticed him noticing Kurt. Whatever had happened during Animal (and it _had_ been pretty bad) had more to do with being uncomfortable acting that way in front of strangers than anything else. In the beginning, he hadn't, but now, Kurt acted like that in front of the Warblers, subconsciously trustful of and comfortable with them. He would sprawl onto a couch in the rehearsal room without a second thought in a position that (judging by the darkness of Blaine's eyes) made the tenor want to jump on and defile him.

"I don't know what to do." Blaine's voice cracked with uncertainty, and Charlie sighed.

"I'll tell you what you're gonna do." Blaine looked at him hopefully, like Charlie had all the answers. Which, of course, he did. "You're going to get through this week that you've made terrible for yourself. You're going to give Kurt a chance to cool down before you try to apologize again, but make no mistake, you _will_ apologize again. And you're going to treat Kurt the way you should, by your own definition." Blaine's eager helpless look turned into surprise and confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"For the first time since you met him, you're going to treat him like he's your best friend and that's _it_. This is going to be the end of you're little 'I'll teach you all about sex, little one, but I still won't admit that I have feelings for you, and will continue stringing you along' shit. You're not going to 'come so close,' and we will discuss what that means later, when I remove you from your leash. You're not going to delve into both of your romantic problems. You can go out to coffee and tell stories and laugh and even have heavy conversations if you want, but I don't want to see any of those long dramatic, romantic stares that look like they came straight out of Twilight." Blaine looked appropriately offended. "You're not going to spend your time locked in closets together, or admit to him that you think he's beautiful and sexy as hell, or anything else that would be totally inappropriate with someone who wasn't Kurt."

"Why?" Blaine asked, and it was a fair question.

"What was the last thing Kurt said to you?" Charlie asked, with the distinct feeling that he knew the answer, or at least had a good guess.

"...'I don't know how much longer I can keep this up,'" Blaine breathed out, clearly coming to understand as he spoke.

"Right. You have a finite number of chances left, and you're not going to waste them all on someone so mad at you that he's eating pizza right now, and _stop smiling like a love struck idiot, you shouldn't find that cute_," Charlie demanded, because Blaine had immediately looked charmed. "Understand? Best friends only. Kurt's a pretty tough guy, emotionally, and he's given you a lot of chances, but opportunities are not an endless resource. And it's not like Kurt's the kind of guy who doesn't have options, even if he doesn't realize it." Blaine looked stricken, but he nodded in understanding. "Good boy. Let's go get you some coffee."

* * *

><p>After classes on Tuesday, Blaine headed to his room, tugged off his Dalton uniform with only a lingering bit of relief (usually, the first thing freshman did when they got out of classes was pull off their uniforms and finally feel relaxed. The feeling faded with time, but it never truly went away), and grabbed some sweatpants and an undershirt out of his closet. They were the most comfortable clothes he had at Dalton and what he usually wore to the gym, so he decided they would be good enough for dance rehearsal. He pulled on some sneakers as well, well-worn, comfortable ones that he'd had for so long, it was like they were custom-made for his feet.<p>

He wasn't the last person to the gym, but he wasn't the first either (he had stopped in his bathroom to add some more gel to his hair, because the last thing he needed while embarrassing himself by attempting to dance was gel-soaked curls smacking him in the face). However, he was certainly the most reasonably dressed. Several Warblers had just shucked their blazers and ties, figuring they could dance in dress pants (they couldn't. Nobody could). Others had made an _attempt_ at wearing comfortable clothes. The items Blaine could see that looked the least comfortable included: sweaters, slightly-looser than uniform button-down shirts, jeans, those stretchy exercise pants that only women bought because on guys they just showed _way_ too much, brand new sneakers, shorts (not that those would be so bad for the wearer, but they would probably at some point give the people around them too much of a view, like the exercise pants), tight t-shirts, and dress shoes. There were some people who had successfully dressed down, but not many, and most of them only knew what to wear because they were athletes. And, of course, there was the council. Thad was wearing his basketball warm-ups, David had also grabbed some basketball shorts and a Dalton t-shirt, and Wes looked extremely uncomfortable in sweatpants and a t-shirt which looked a little big on him (which, if Blaine's memory was serving him properly, looked a _lot_ like one of David's, and it suddenly became very clear whose idea the dance rehearsal was).

Wes didn't seem to be in a big hurry to start the rehearsal, and not all the Warblers had gathered, so Blaine started to stretch as he waited. "Oh, yeah, flex it," came a lewd taunt from behind him, and Blaine ignored it because he knew that voice.

"Came to watch?" he asked Charlie.

"Of course. And technically, I _am_ a Warbler. I'm more than welcome to participate in whatever rehearsals I want."

"Technically, as a Warbler, you're supposed to participate in _all_ of them," Blaine corrected him, but he knew it would never happen.

"Please, a senior showing up to all instances of any extracurricular activity would be unprecedented," Charlie said with a roll of his eyes. Blaine turned around to look at his crazy best friend and rolled his eyes in return. As someone who undermined the Dalton uniform at every possible moment, Charlie was dressed both appropriately and sassily. He was wearing a white t-shirt, and he had his Dalton tie loosely tied around his neck, hanging down sloppily. He had chosen sweatpants almost the exact same color as their uniform pants (considering how many people were still _in_ their uniform pants, Blaine had a pretty good side-by-side comparison) and wrapped his Dalton-issue belt around his hips, unbuckled, somehow attached to his pants (Blaine had no idea how). He was also wearing black sneakers that he had clearly sprayed with something to make them shiny. Adding to the look, he had doubled his usual deep black mascara and eyeliner, worn black leather bracelets, and spiked up his hair considerably.

Blaine snorted. "You're a tool." Charlie just shrugged, apparently very comfortable with his chosen attire. "What about Wes? He's a senior."

"Yeah, but he's just here because he wants to bang David in the practice room after everyone else leaves. And _yes_, they totally do that, I've caught them."

"So has everyone else," Blaine commented, remembering the story Kurt had told him in... had it been January? The year was flying by.

"I can't imagine what they plan to do once the locker room clears out." Charlie shuddered dramatically. "Anyway, I think this is going to be hilarious." The crazy senior pulled out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and opened up the video camera. "I'm ready to be famous."

Blaine had some good retorts to that, but Kurt arrived before he could get any of them out. It didn't surprise the tenor that Kurt was one of the last people there; he was very fastidious about his appearance and usually took a long time to change outfits. Kurt looked surprisingly comfortable in a tight-fitting black t-shirt, gray sweatpants that Blaine suspected were sold for women, and a blue and green hoodie with a geometric pattern zipped up about halfway, the white inside of the hood matching his white Converse. His hair had been sprayed firmly into place, and Blaine had a feeling that Kurt was such a master with hair products that not a strand would pop out of place, no matter what antics occurred. Apparently, Blaine had been looking long enough that Kurt noticed, so the tenor waved and got a hesitant little curl of Kurt's fingers in response before the countertenor headed up to stand with Michael and a few of the other athletes, all of whom pounded him on the back for dressing appropriately and started to play with the strings of his hoodie.

Blaine knew that he deserved the cold treatment he was getting from Kurt (or colder), so he tried not to feel bitter about it as he turned back to Charlie, who was giving him a Look. "What?"

"Nothing," Charlie said innocently. "That was very good. No pant-dropping smiles or overexcited waving and bouncing."

"What the hell is a pant-dropping smile?" Blaine asked as Wes pulled out a piece of paper and turned to face the Warblers, Thad and David flanking him as usual.

"Smile at a mirror, then ask me that stupid question again," was Charlie's biting answer.

"Attention, Warblers," Wes called out, his voice carrying. "I know not everyone was very enthusiastic about the Warblers' decision to incorporate more sophisticated choreography, so I decided to go against the norm and take attendance. Anyone who is not present today will not be allowed to perform at Regionals." A few freshmen looked around in alarm on behalf of their deserting friends, but all the major players of the Warblers were there.

"Ooh, ooh, Wes, I'm here!" Charlie said excitedly, bouncing up and down and waving his arms up in the air to be seen. "Yay! Yay! I almost didn't come!" he continued eagerly, and most of the Warblers were holding back laughter. Most of the amusement wasn't in Charlie's actions (that was about as close to normal as the honorary Warbler got) but rather in Wes' expression. Even David was holding back laughter, clapping a hand over his own mouth so Wes wouldn't yell at him. "I've always _wanted_ to go to Regionals," Charlie said, mock-dreamily, and was he _trying_ to make Wes homicidal by reminding him of how rare that opportunity was?

"Yes, Charlie, you're here," Wes said coldly, having managed to contain his horrified expression. "Are you quite done announcing that?"

"Yes!" Charlie said, still bouncing. "I'm just _excited_." Giggles were starting among the Warblers.

"Silence," Wes barked out before reading off the attendance sheet. Blaine grabbed Charlie's arm and forced his crazy best friend to keep his feet on the ground, despite the grumbled objections and attempted elbows in the ribs.

"Must you act like this?" Blaine asked rhetorically, knowing the answer, as he contained Charlie.

Wes finished taking attendance pretty rapidly, calling out names and then waiting for David and Thad to say whether or not the boy in question was there. The audience participation was only required if David and Thad somehow missed someone. Wes attached the piece of paper to a clipboard and set it down, stepping forward onto one of the mats that had been placed on the gym floor beforehand, obviously for the Warblers' protection. "In the interest of preventing as many injuries as possible, we will start with stretching. Thad?" Wes offered the floor to the only member of the council qualified to be leading any sort of physical activity.

Thad started with the most basic stretches possible before moving on to slightly more advanced moves, the ones that were associated mostly with dancing and specifically with show choir. Still, even with the basic stretches, it was very easy to tell the physically capable (the athletes, mostly, a few lithe guys, including Kurt, and all their 'dancers,' better known as the people in the Warblers who could do back flips) from the not-so-capable (everyone else). Judging by Charlie's not-at-all muffled laughter, either the honorary Warbler had decided that Blaine fit into the latter category (which was possible; a fighter does not a good dancer make), or he just found everything that was occurring wickedly amusing.

To be fair to Charlie, there were some entertaining incidents. Lots of joint cracking and grunting and bodies hitting the mat could be heard, and Blaine had a feeling it would only get worse as the rehearsal continued. As Thad was leading the stretches, Wes was writing out a list of dance steps on a whiteboard he had made David pull from the gym teacher's office, along with complicated and incomprehensible diagrams of how to do those moves. This activity meant the Head Warbler wasn't stretching _himself_, even though he appeared to be the person prepared to demonstrate, which surely wouldn't end well.

"Thad, that's quite enough," Wes said eventually, stepping onto the mat next to Thad and almost getting whacked in the face by the third-rung councilman (though Blaine couldn't quite bring himself to declare the action accidental).

"There are a few basic moves that everyone in the show choir world should know," Thad began, obediently standing behind Wes and gesturing to the Head Warbler's confusing diagrams on the board. "These are the basics, the things that everyone should be able to do. We'll start with those to warm you guys up."

"However," Wes seemed to like center stage almost as much as Blaine did, "keep in mind these moves are considered clichéd at the point, and we will never use them in competition. A lack of choreography will only hurt us so much, but using these makes us seem trite and unoriginal. One of the strengths of the Warblers is synchronicity, our ability to move as one cohesive organism, and we will use that to our benefit in terms of actual choreography. None of these moves will be used. In addition, this rehearsal is specifically focused around our impromptu performance."

"Right." Thad had to have endless patience, because Wes seemed constantly ready to interrupt him and seem like the authority, even though the dance rehearsal hadn't been his idea and he had no experience with dancing. Thad looked once more at the diagrams on the board and then said rather decisively, "I'll walk you guys through them." Thad walked over to stand in front of the board instead of with Wes and David, and clicked on some thumping exercise music. "Let's begin."

* * *

><p>Kurt wasn't exactly shocked to discover that dance rehearsals weren't one of the Warblers' strengths. Thad seemed capable only because he was an athlete, but he wasn't terribly graceful, and by being the example that the rest of the club was following, he seemed to be passing the awkwardness on. Wes and David couldn't really keep up with him, which was obviously making the Head Warbler angry. There was a lot of tripping and back cracking and a few minor injuries, and had anyone been around who would understand the joke, Kurt probably would have said that he was living his worst nightmare: a room full of Finn's dancing.<p>

Well, there was one person who would understand the joke, but Kurt wasn't really thinking about him. Blaine was there, always the responsible Vocal Captain, chatting with Charlie and occasionally bursting out in surprise laughter at something the crazy honorary Warbler said. Besides the awkward wave Blaine had given him as he walked in, as if trying to distract from the fact that he had been staring, the tenor hadn't so much looked at him, and Kurt wasn't sure that was what he had wanted. Still, he had said what he needed to, and he would take any consequences that emerged dutifully.

Thad led them all through the choreography steps Kurt knew well. The New Directions didn't spend a _lot_ of time on dancing, but they had done this many times in the auditorium, usually during their brief attempts to beat Vocal Adrenaline by out-dancing them before remembering that they weren't all well-muscled guys or 120 pound girls, and they had Finn. Still, Kurt was familiar with all of the moves and did them effortlessly as Thad tried to do the impossible: teach private school boys to dance.

Wes had been observing without trying very hard to follow along, and at the end of the short list of dance moves that had turned the usually formal and almost parliamentary rehearsals into anarchy, he went to stand next to Thad. "I think that's quite enough for today. We can work more on choreography that suits our specific songs once the set list has been decided, which will be some time in the week before Regionals. Dismissed."

Even after a dance-heavy and embarrassing rehearsal, all the Warblers were grinning at one another, and Kurt realized he still had so much more to learn in the crazy school. "What?" he asked anyone who would answer hesitantly.

"Locker room time!" Charlie said excitedly with a cackle before running through the door of the locker room. The boys' locker room. The only locker room. No girls' locker room for Kurt to hide in. Great.

"You get _way_ too excited about this," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes as he and a few other guys followed Charlie, Kurt being pushed in between Wes, David, and Thad.

"Blainers, come on. I have a boyfriend now. This is the only chance I have to see some skin." Blaine turned to say something to Charlie and blanched.

"Charlie, no one wants to see that much of your skin," he said, not exactly looking away or getting embarrassed, but tossing Charlie a towel. "Cover up."

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Blainers," the crazy boy said with a maniacal grin, but he wrapped the towel around his waist anyway.

"I don't suppose there's any _other_ place I could change?" Kurt asked Wes in a low voice, but the Head Warbler shook his head sympathetically. This was one thing about coming to Dalton that Kurt had never anticipated (he had originally worried about having a roommate who was intrusive, but he and Chris had come up with an agreement about _knocking_ that Kurt had never quite managed to establish with Finn), but with the lack of complicated dance steps in the Warblers' repertoire, he had never needed to worry until right now.

"So, I guess Hummel really _is_ a castrato," Charlie teased as he dug clothes out of his bag. That rumor, sadly, had spread from one school to the next via Santana.

"Charlie, be nice," Blaine chastised.

"Why would you say that?" Jeff asked, clearly playing along.

"Why else would he not want us to see him naked?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, Charlie, maybe it's because of the lewd up-and-down you're giving him right now while he's _clothed_." Kurt was expecting to have to handle the crazy honorary Warbler all by himself, but Blaine jumped quickly to his defense. "Or maybe it's because he's so used to being tormented and probably rat-tailed in the men's locker room at a homophobic school that he's not exactly comfortable with the notion." Blaine was _excellent_ at making people feel terrible for being insensitive, and most of the Warblers guiltily avoided eye contact with him. Kurt also avoided looking at his friend, but for a totally different reason. If Blaine was mad at him or upset with him, why was the tenor defending him so passionately?

Charlie didn't seem to feel the embarrassed or chagrined in the least. "I think you're projecting your own anxieties onto Kurtsie here," Charlie said matter-of-factly. "Maybe he's just afraid that he'll jump you if he sees anything under the clothes." Charlie rather inappropriately slid his hand down Blaine's side, but Blaine ignored the touch, shooting his friend a look that Kurt didn't quite understand. Almost like he was... disappointed, or confused by Charlie's actions. Which was ridiculous, because Charlie acted like that all the time.

"Maybe it's because you're all idiots who won't stop teasing him, and _you're_ guaranteed to start wolf-whistling and otherwise embarrassing him the moment he takes off anything." Blaine directed his words at Charlie, shoving him away hard enough that he moved, but not knocking him over. Charlie and Blaine were exchanging glances that Kurt didn't really understand, but the weirdest thing was that Blaine didn't look at him. Not even for a second, even though he was defending him.

"Enough, enough," Wes finally said, "leave Kurt alone." Wes also seemed confused by the exchange. "Charlie, go shower, I won't have you standing around threatening to expose yourself at any moment." Charlie obeyed, but not before pointedly dropping his towel. Kurt's eyes flew up to the ceiling automatically, his body fighting the reflex to flee or make himself as small as possible, and he thought Dalton had relaxed him more than that. "All of you, focus on yourselves, please, and _no touching_." Kurt didn't look down to know who Wes was addressing with that statement, instead going to the bank of lockers furthest from the showers and allowing his eyes to slide down from the ceiling, landing on the blue locker in front of him. Dalton was fancier than McKinley in every aspect (even the gym was better-maintained, with flags hanging all around proclaiming Dalton's various sports victories), but there was nothing any school could do to make a locker room look distinguished (the smell was _much_ better though). The walls were wood except for by the showers, and all the lockers impeccably painted with working locks, but it looked eerily reminiscent of the McKinley locker room. Enough so that Kurt's heart was pounding in his chest.

"Hey," came a quiet voice from behind him, and Kurt jumped out of his skin. "Sorry," Blaine said meekly, and Kurt wasn't sure if it was for startling him or the tenor's earlier weak attempt to remedy everything, but he didn't say anything, just in case. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Blaine raised one eyebrow, and then the other at the lack of reaction to the first. "I'm fine, Blaine."

"Of course you are," Blaine said calmly, "because you've never been sexually harassed in a locker room before."

"Would you keep your voice down?" Kurt hissed. "It's different, okay? It's _Charlie_. I'm not afraid of Charlie. I'm just... uncomfortable," he admitted, wrapping his arms around himself.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, looked at Kurt, looked at his crossed arms, and then closed it, swallowing whatever he had planned to say. "Okay." Blaine swallowed again. "You can probably sneak out and go change and shower in your dorm. You don't smell bad or anything." Blaine turned around quickly, headed back towards the noise of the other boys chattering and a few showers running.

"Blaine," Kurt called out, because his friend deserved it. "Thank you. For defending me." Blaine turned around briefly to give him a little smile, but kept walking.

Kurt quickly realized there was no way out in the back of the locker room, only the front entry, so he would have to walk through the rest of the Warblers to leave. Most of the showers were occupied, so there were just a few Warblers lounging around half-clothed, and he worked very hard to keep his eyes averted, even though the logical part of his brain knew they wouldn't be bothered if he caught a glimpse or two.

"Do anything stupid yet?" he heard as he passed one block of lockers, and he knew Charlie's voice. Apparently, the honorary Warbler was done showering and had thankfully wrapped a towel around his waist to converse with Blaine.

Blaine was standing by a locker that he clearly knew the combination to, because it was open. "Of course not," he said, answering Charlie, and he closed the locker to talk to his friend, revealing that he was... _oh_.

Kurt knew he was blushing, and most definitely spying, and he wasn't sure exactly where his reflex to look away at the sight of exposed skin had gone, but his feet were rooted to the spot and his eyes were rooted on Blaine's bare chest, his best friend leaning casually against the lockers in just his sweatpants. And Blaine was... gorgeous, tanned and toned with a soft smattering of dark hair, the work Kurt knew his friend put into his body very clearly showing.

"Really?" Charlie was saying, and it was unfair how completely unfazed he was by the tenor's partial nudity. "Because that seemed like a minefield of ways to break our little rule."

"I do know how _not_ to be an incorrigible flirt, thank you," Blaine said coolly.

"So, if you didn't fuck up, where is he?" Charlie asked, scanning around, and Kurt ducked back against the edge of the locker bank.

"He went to go change in his dorm room, Charlie," Blaine said coolly. "He's not used to this kind of stuff. He squeaks and blushes whenever Chris is in their room without a shirt, his own step-brother puts his underwear on in the shower around him... it's complicated. In Kurt's mind, straight boys and any degree of nudity does not mix."

"See, I fundamentally disagree with that," Charlie said with a laugh, opening one of the bottom lockers before dropping his towel, thankfully keeping Kurt's view chaste.

"Well, you have quite a bit more experience with this kid of stuff than he does," Blaine said with a shrug, seeming completely unruffled by Charlie's nudity. "He'll probably never be fully comfortable in a locker room."

"Poor kid," Charlie said with a sigh, closing the locker but thankfully having pants on. Charlie was also shirtless, but it didn't have quite the same effect. Charlie was skinny and pale and hairless and... oh, God, that was probably what he looked like without a shirt, wasn't it? Except Charlie's stomach was completely flat.

Blaine shrugged again. "He's okay. I mean, locker rooms will only be a part of his life for another year and some change."

Charlie was craning his neck toward the showers, no one else complaining about his wandering eyes. "I think there's a stall free next to Trent if you want it."

"Thanks," Blaine said, clapping Charlie's bare shoulder before heading for the showers. He was so lost in thought as he walked by that he didn't even notice Kurt, who couldn't help following the tenor with his eyes as Blaine headed for the showers.

"Are you quite done spying?" Charlie asked loudly right by his ear, making him jump for the second time that day.

"I... I wasn't."

"No, you could make the claim that you weren't _eavesdropping_," Charlie corrected casually. "However, you were most definitely checking him out."

"Shut up, Charlie," Kurt said immediately, aware of how red his face was.

"Relax, it's not like I blame you." Charlie winked, and Kurt was starting to feel like a sleaze for having spied in the first place. "And I'm sure Blaine wouldn't have minded," he added, as if reading Kurt's mind. "Meanwhile, you should get out of here before someone notices your continued state of clothing or rat-tails you." Charlie gave him a little smirk that was almost a real, non-evil smile and added, "Calm down, babe, you're not the only on in the room giving Blaine a little admiration. He works hard to look like that." Charlie jerked his head towards where Blaine was in the shower, but Kurt didn't look. That was crossing a line.

* * *

><p>Kurt had survived dance rehearsal and managed to get through a day of Blaine acting awkward. If it wasn't for the fact that Blaine actually approached him in their first class, he would have believed the tenor was trying to distance himself. Still, Blaine's smile was strained and he kept his hands to himself an unusual amount. Kurt sat back at the Warblers' table again (the day before he had eaten outside, leaning against the building with a few kids that he guessed were the stoners of Dalton), a few seats down from Blaine, and the tenor was polite and friendly, but something was a little off.<p>

He realized exactly what it was when Michael was telling Blaine about some girl problem or another. Blaine was listening intently, and when Michael was done, he smiled, a full unrestrained smile, the likes of which Kurt hadn't seen lately. "I'm sure she'll come around. Wouldn't want to miss out on a guy like you," Blaine said, placing a hand over Michael's on the table, and it hit Kurt. He knew Blaine wasn't coming on to Michael, he wouldn't do that, he was just naturally flirtatious... and that was what had been off. Like Blaine had flipped a switch in his brain, he had stopped being flirty in their conversations.

Before Kurt could get too lost in thoughts of why that was and what that meant, Wes stood and addressed the Warblers. "There is a Warbler meeting in the library. _Now_," he said rather pushily. When the grumbles began, he added, "You can bring food."

That stopped all the complaining, and Kurt noticed the noise level in the room, always comfortable, go down considerably when the Warblers stood as one unit, with their trays, and filed out of the room. For a moment, it struck Kurt as weird. Not that the other kids had become curious, a surprise Warbler meeting could only mean one thing, but that he was a part of the inside group. It wasn't just that the Warblers were cool and popular and admired, though they were, it was that Kurt knew the rhythm of how they worked: when to stand up, where to take his place in the line... He was a part of this big machine, instead of feeling just one step off the whole time, the way he had felt when he first arrived. Somehow, he had assimilated, and he wasn't sure how happy he was about that.

Kurt hadn't yet been to the Dalton Academy library. In fact, it occurred to him as he was following Michael down the corridor of the Dalton building, that he didn't even know where the school library _was_. Dalton didn't have the best signage, for a large and complexly designed school, and Kurt had never wondered where some of the doors went sheerly because he knew his way around so little of the campus. Wes, at the front of the line, heaved open a heavy iron door which Kurt had passed by a hundred times, never noticing, and Thad held it open as the Warblers descended. The old stairs behind the door were stone, contrasting with the bright, modern, steel fluorescent lamps that lined the walls. At the end of the stairs, there was another heavy iron door, and David pulled this one open, half of the Warblers filing through before Kurt could even get a good look.

Occasionally, Blaine would 'go total nerd,' as Charlie called it, and compare Dalton to Hogwarts. Kurt could sometimes see what the tenor meant: beautiful, castle-like in parts, and certainly with its own patented brand of chaos. Now, Kurt saw the comparison better than ever. The space seemed bigger than it should be, considering that they were only one floor under ground. Kurt could see four different levels of books, books leading off in all directions, grand and leather-bound, most with gold writing. It had a large circular skylight, which didn't show the floor above, meaning the library extended underneath the courtyard above them. The window was translucent due to design, with iron structuring, and was set high in the ceiling, which had gold designs throughout. Old style lamps that let off a yellow-tinted glow lit the books. There was grand wooden architecture, finely carved, rows of green plush leather chairs for students to read in, with floor-bound lamps between them. Rows of file cabinets were behind the help desk, which at the moment was abandoned. The only thing that took Kurt out of the Hogwarts fantasy was the rows of expensive computers, and another help desk which said laptops for borrow.

"Kurt?" Wes' voice broke him out of his trance, and he realized he'd been staring transfixed as everyone else sat down. "Would you like to come join us?" A few people were snickering, but a stern look from Blaine quieted them.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled as he sat down in one of the plush leather chairs next to the Warblers, sinking deeply into the comfort and letting out an unintentionally dreamy sigh.

"Since dance rehearsal turned out to be more exhaustive than expected, we did not have the chance following what were supposed to be warm-up moves to plan the choreography for our impromptu sexy number. However, it is scheduled for today, at the beginning of last period, and this cannot be changed. Blaine is our Vocal Captain and only soloist for this song and is in charge of his own choreography, as usual."

"He has good instincts," someone muttered, to laughter. Blaine grinned cheerfully.

"However, there must be some sort of cohesive movement occurring behind him. Last time the dancing and individuality got out of control, and we looked more like separate entities forced to work together than a team." Wes was obviously criticizing them, but it had been the council's idea to not plan too heavily for _Animal_. "Everyone has been excused from next period to rehearse the harmonies one more time and put together a loose performance. Stand." Everyone obeyed immediately, with some grumbles. "And one, two, three..."

* * *

><p>Chris was admittedly on his phone all the way through English, but it wasn't his fault that he had already read all the required material and he knew what happened so he couldn't participate in the speculation occurring during their class discussion. So, he was texting his girlfriend, which was much more fun.<p>

The bell was just about to ring, everyone's books closed and the students prepared for whatever they had last period, when the announcements came on. "Attention, Dalton Academy," came the firm voice of Headmaster Fournier. "Could everyone please report to the Ablewhite building, Room 230?"

Chris hadn't actually been at the school for very long, so this had never happened to him before. Apparently, he was alone in that, because everyone else was smiling and picking up their books. "What's up?" he asked Jason, the school soccer star who sat next to him.

"Impromptu Warbler performance," Jason said with a grin. Nobody would like the Warblers as much if they knew the lead singer like he did; Chris resisted the urge to make a face. "Usually we know about them before hand, but clearly Wesley didn't want this one to get out." Everyone in the school had great respect for Wes Carlton as the leader of the most prestigious school organization by far. Chris knew him only through Kurt.

"Cool," was the only appropriate answer he could come up with, and he collected his books and joined the school-wide flow towards the room Headmaster Fournier had specified.

Chris followed everyone out of the Dalton building, across the courtyard, and then into the Ablewhite building and up the stairs. The Warblers were standing there, in full uniform, and Blaine was standing in front as usual. Since Kurt had humiliated himself last time he sang lead vocals for the Warblers (though Chris had only heard the story, and he was sure his little roommate was exaggerating because of what Blaine had said), it made sense that this was Blaine's song alone, and he hoped it had absolutely nothing to do with the whole 'sexy' thing, but he also knew it was a vain hope.

"Gentlemen, settle," Blaine said with that grin everyone else seemed to find charming and he found very annoying. "As you may have heard, the Warblers decided to try something a little _sexy_ at Crawford Country Day last week, and it didn't go very well. Now, I know this school breaks the stereotype and you're not _all_ as gay as I am." That prompted laughs, and an eye roll from Chris. "But we decided to do a second attempt and were too lazy to do all the paperwork for CCD. So, we decided to put on a little show for you guys, and gay or straight, we would appreciate feedback." The accompaniment started just as he finished, all the Warblers kind of bopping in the background.

_Sugar, sugar  
><em>_She sits alone, waiting for suggestions  
><em>_He is so nervous, avoiding all her questions  
><em>_His lips are dry, her heart is gently pounding  
><em>_Don't you just know exactly what they're thinking?_

Kurt was in the front, for some reason, standing right beside Blaine, and this made him the unfortunate target of the lead singer. Blaine was giving his best bedroom eyes to the audience, but at the line about dry lips, the tenor casually slid his thumb over Kurt's bottom lip, and it quickly became clear to Chris what his roommate was thinking. Kurt's eyes went wide, and he stopped singing for a second as he gulped. Blaine paid him no mind as he launched into the chorus, other voices surrounding his and propping his up in all its glory.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy  
><em>_Come on, sugar, let me know  
><em>_If you really need me, just reach out and touch me  
><em>_Come on, honey, tell me so  
><em>_Tell me so, baby!_

Chris had no idea who was in charge of the dancing, but all the Warblers looked awkward doing some overly-ambitious grinding and thrusting. Still, he saw a few interested eyes in the audience (maybe that was what guys found attractive in other guys?). Blaine was by far the worst, grinding his hips and touching other people, but Kurt was looking at him like he was a piece of meat. Chris had a feeling his roommate was grateful for the baggy gray slacks he always complained about all of the sudden.

_He's acting shy__ looking for an answer  
><em>_Aw, come on, honey, let's spend the night together  
><em>_Now, hold on_ (hold on a minute) _before we go much further  
><em>_Give me a dime, so I can phone my mother  
><em>_They catch a cab__ to his high rise apartment  
><em>_At last he can tell her exactly what his heart meant!_

On the second line, Blaine ran the backs of his fingers down Kurt's face with a little smirk, a clear tease, and either the tenor was an idiot or he had no idea the kind of effect he was having on Kurt. The poor countertenor looked just as awkward with the choreography, there was no life in his movements, but he was more graceful than most of the guys, and more limber, and Chris definitely didn't like the way some of the people in the audience were looking at his shy little roommate.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy  
><em>_Come on, sugar, let me know_ (_let me know_)  
><em><span>If you really need me, just reach out and touch me<span>  
><em>_Come on, honey, tell me so_ (_tell me so_)

_His heart's beating like a drum_ (his heart is beating like a drum)  
>'<em>Cause at least, he's got this girl home<em> (he's got this girl at home)  
><em>Relax, baby, now we're all alone<em> (now, we're all alone)

Blaine went immediately to the heart beating gesture, and Chris couldn't find anything attractive about his performance, but still, it was like he was singing the last line directly at Kurt, and the countertenor fell out of step on the bridge. Chris noticed (as did a few other complaining people) when he slunk to the back.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy  
><em>_Come on, honey, let me know  
><em>_If you really need me, just reach out and touch me  
><em>_Come on, sugar, let me know _(_ow!_)

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy  
><em>_Come on, honey, tell me so_ (_tell me so, baby_)  
><span><em>If you really need me, just reach out and touch me<br>__Come on, sugar, let me know_

_Oh, if you want my body!_

Chris was unimpressed by the performance, but it was followed by whoops and cheers and several desperate prom pleas, all of which were directed at Blaine, who smiled but waved them off. The crowd swarmed around the Warblers as usual, a few giving feedback to Wes but most just talking to their friends or trying to get with one of them. Chris wandered through the crowds, hearing several instances of the word 'Hummelsexual,' from guys he'd believed earlier to be straight, and his little roommate probably wouldn't find that as amusing as he did. Chris snuck around to the back, where he knew Kurt would be, and found Charlie laughing at him.

His roommate was sitting in a chair, squirming infinitesimally, but his legs were uncrossed (which was an oddity), and his head was in his hands. "I find this very amusing," Charlie said with a grin. "So much for 'Oh, I can focus on my performance and control myself around Blaine trying to be sexy.' _Please_, you want that boy so bad."

"Leave him alone, Charlie," Chris said, because Kurt looked embarrassed enough.

"What? It's not like anyone is blaming him! Blaine's hot."

"Hey there, gorgeous," one of the guys who'd said 'Hummelsexual' earlier approached them.

Chris glared, feeling very much like a protective older brother. "Leave. Now." Lucky for him, the guy obeyed, heading off to doubtlessly flirt with more Warblers.

"Oh, did you hear you started your own sexuality?" Charlie asked with a grin, and that was enough to make Kurt look up, his face pink. "Many, and I mean _many,_ straight guys in the audience decided they were Hummelsexual because you're so gorgeous." Charlie gave him a little up-and-down, but Kurt ignored it, putting his head back in his hands with a groan.

"How did you hear that?" Chris asked, playing through the performance in his head before realizing Charlie had decided not to be a Warbler for it.

"I was in the audience, enjoying the view like everyone else," Charlie said with a very predatory grin, and yeah, Chris still found him a little unnerving.

"You can't blame Kurt, dude, Blaine was singing right at him."

Charlie huffed and rolled his eyes. "It's _Blaine_, this is just an extension of his normal flirtiness. He would have sang to… oh, who's really ugly? That guy," Charlie said loudly, pointing to some unattractive guy who walked by with no shame, "had that guy, let's call him Alan, happened to be right next to him."

"Charlie, stop lowering the self-esteem of strangers," Kurt insisted. "I'm fine. I just… Wow."

"I think Wes would appreciate knowing about the feedback in your-" Chris wound up and punched Charlie in the stomach, not too hard, just enough to shut him up, before he could embarrass Kurt further. "Oh, you suck," Charlie groaned as he doubled over.

"Looks more like you do," Blaine said with a grin, having caught that part of the exchange as he walked over. "Kurt, hi…" Blaine trailed off, and when Chris went to look back at his roommate, Kurt was gone.

"Can't you just leave him alone, man?" Chris asked, headed back to their dorm.

"Hope you don't find him rubbing one out!" Charlie called after him, unashamed, but when Chris looked back to comment, he saw Charlie whirling on Blaine. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? What did we discuss?" Apparently, Blaine was in appropriately angry hands. Maybe Charlie would actually choke him and get rid of all Kurt's problems.

* * *

><p>Kurt had to have his first awkward exchange with Chris about rubbing one out, thanks to fucking <em>Blaine<em>, and his fucking _eyes_, and his fucking _voice_, and his fucking _hips_, and oh, that was not a good combination of words. Yes, he was a teenage boy and yes, he masturbated when it was necessary, but _no_, he didn't really want to talk to Chris about it. He knew his roommate probably had the same habit,but Kurt was out of the room a lot, so Chris didn't have to worry about it. Kurt didn't exactly have that luxury.

Thankfully, Chris entered the room after him, saw his face, turned, and found somewhere else to be long enough for Kurt to take a shower, jerk off, and then pass out in bed, not worried about homework or anything else. Hopefully, his roommate would never speak of it again.

Classes on Friday were the worst they had been since Blaine and he had bumped into Coach Sylvester at the Lima Bean, because he had a few reasons he _did_ want to look Blaine in the eyes and a whole host of reasons he _didn't_, and as he fought this internal war, he kept catching glimpses Blaine's sad, puppy-dog eyes, which he apparently wore all day.

Wes had taken pity on them after yesterday (apparently, _Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?_ had gotten mixed reviews), and there was no rehearsal that day. Still, it was only Thursday, nine days until Regionals, and everyday rehearsals would start tomorrow, so Kurt couldn't avoid his best friend forever.

Kurt was at his desk, working hard to do all of the homework he had neglected yesterday in his embarrassment when there was a knock on the door. He had been in exactly this situation many times before; he knew Blaine's knock. "Come in," he called out, hoping Blaine wouldn't notice how tired he sounded.

"First I must tell you I've been the most unmitigated and comprehensive ass," Blaine said smoothly as he walked in, and Kurt couldn't suppress his smile, but he didn't turn around to look at his friend.

"Are you apologizing or proposing?" was his dry answer, and he heard Kurt sigh.

"I'm sorry," Blaine exclaimed, almost yelling, apparently snappy, and Kurt turned to look at him, doing a double-take at his appearance. He looked ragged, in only his uniform pants and white button-down, hair mussed from hands running constantly through it, and gray bags under his eyes Kurt hadn't yet noticed because he'd been too focused on the hazel eyes that pleaded with him. "And I know you don't believe me, or you don't care, but I mean it!" he exclaimed. "I am so, _so_ sorry, Kurt. I have done absolutely _everything_ wrong this week. I told you weren't sexy, accidentally, but I did, and then I tried to mitigate that by telling you you _were_ sexy, but then I chickened out and said 'objectively,' and then I tried to teach you about sex and I made you uncomfortable and then I convinced your _father_ to teach you about sex!" Kurt raised his eyebrows, but Blaine wasn't done. "Who does that? And then you yelled at me, of course you yelled at me, and I couldn't find the words to explain myself, and I don't think there are any, and then I tried to make it better! I tried to defend you, because those idiots just don't _understand_ why you're uncomfortable, and I didn't either, but I think I do now. And during the performance… I shouldn't've done that, I just wasn't _thinking_, I was just _performing_, but like you said, that's my problem, I need to think about the way my actions affect other people, and I'm so sorry, but…" Blaine sighed, running his hands through his hair again and sitting down on the end of Kurt's bed, Kurt swiveling in his chair to follow him (rants apparently went hand-in-hand with pacing). "I-I… I just… Kurt, I know you, okay? You're going to think and analyze and research and try to figure everything out. But sex isn't something that you can put into a bunch of little boxes and make sense of. Sex is-is _random_ and messy and sweaty and nonsensical and embarrassing to think about in the light of day and _confusing _above all else, and the more you try to figure it out, the more scary and foreign it's going to seem." Blaine sighed. "W-When you find the right guy, you can figure everything out with him, but until then, you really shouldn't worry about it, okay? Because you are _gorgeous_, Kurt, and you're witty and kind and romantic and… and you're turning people Hummelsexual, whatever the hell that means! I just…" Blaine put his head in his hands. "I'm _so_ confused, and I'm _so_ sorry, you have to know that." He looked up at Kurt again. "Say something, please. Put me out of my misery."

Kurt smiled a little at that. "I plan to; I was waiting for you to take a breath." Blaine let out a little laugh, and he looked… nervous. "Are you done… having a mental breakdown, or whatever you were doing?"

"I think so, but I'm not really sure. I planned out what I was going to say in my head, and it wasn't even close to that."

"You decided to start with a Pride and Prejudice quote?" Kurt asked.

"I thought it was fitting, and I watched that last night while lamenting what an idiot I am," Blaine admitted with a little smile.

There were so many things he could have said, so many things he could have yelled, he could have forgiven Blaine or not, it was all up to him. But all that came to mind was, "Are you okay?"

Both of them looked a little surprised at that. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Kurt said, a little more aware of why he was saying it. "You've been… all over the place this week, and you just had some kind of…"

"Yes, of course," Blaine replied, sounding touched. "I just… like I said, I'm confused. _Really_ confused, apparently," he said with a self-deprecating laugh, looking down again.

"Confused about?"

Blaine looked up at him with a wry smile. "You know the answer to that." Blaine sighed again. "And I meant what I said, the first time I tried to do that. I didn't try to teach you about sex because of Regionals. I did it because I care about you, and the idea of someone taking advantage of you, not using a condom or not…" Blaine trailed off, but his jaw was tense and his hands clenched into fists.

"Okay, okay," Kurt sighed, trying to sort out everything Blaine had said. "Number one, I know about c-condoms, okay?" He tried his best not to blush as he talked, but he knew he was going to lose that battle. "And I'm guessing all of this is what you said to my dad?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I-I didn't know who else to turn to," Blaine admitted. Kurt groaned and put his head in his hands.

"Okay, let's go through this slowly," Kurt said. "I'm not mad at you for what happened after _Animal_, okay? I saw myself in that performance, apparently Charlie has friends at Crawford Country Day, and it _did_ look like I was having gas pains," he admitted with a laugh.

"No, Kurt, it-" Blaine immediately started to contradict him, sliding off the bed and coming to kneel right by Kurt's desk chair, but Kurt rolled his eyes.

"_Yes_, it did. It was a bad performance, I can admit that." Blaine smiled, warm and teasing and Kurt's heart clenched. "Please stop looking at me like that."

Blaine shook his head like he was trying to jerk himself out of the action. "Sorry." He scrambled back to his feet and instead sat in Chris' desk chair, rolling himself closer to Kurt.

"And I'm not mad at you for the whole… trying to teach me about sex thing," Kurt blurted it out quickly, but he could still feel blood rushing to his cheeks, "I know you had good intentions, but…"

"I shouldn't have done that, I know. I need to be a little more sensitive," Blaine said, and Kurt sighed as he looked into the tenor's earnest eyes. "What?"

"You are such a good person," Kurt complained with a groan.

"Why is that a bad thing now?" Blaine asked with a smile.

"Because that makes it _very_ hard to get over you!"

Blaine recoiled, a little, like Kurt had slapped him or something. "Are… are you trying to?"

"I can't believe you talked to my father," Kurt groaned again, because _Blaine_ had been the root cause of all that awkwardness, and he still couldn't find it in himself to be mad at the tenor. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was adorable and his puppy-dog eyes were incredibly sad. "Do you have _any_ idea how uncomfortable that was?"

"What, it's not like he Googled everything then actually… oh, my God, did he?" Blaine asked, looking _horrified_.

"No, no," Kurt was quick to assure Blaine (and assure himself a little, the nightmare of his father Googling 'gay sex' present in his mind). "My father is as clueless about the… mechanics of gay sex as he was before. He got… pamphlets."

"So you're not?" Blaine asked, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, not getting the vague question. "You're not as clueless as you were before?"

"No, I'm not, so can we please never talk about this again?" Kurt asked, covering his bright red face with his hands.

"Yes," Blaine said with a little chuckle, but he peeled Kurt's hands off gently. "Weren't we having a very serious conversation just a few seconds ago?"

"Right," Kurt said, shoving his embarrassment back into the deep recesses of his brain. "You said that you thought you understand. What did you mean?"

"Oh, right," Blaine added, and he seemed a little uncomfortable, the tables turning, but he still met Kurt's eyes. "I… I think I understand why you're a little bit shier about… this kind of thing than most people. I mean, you have to deal with all the same repression stuff all gay kids do, at some point: that it's wrong, or unnatural, or _sick_," Blaine sounded disgusted by his own words. "And of course, it's _not_, but we all had to hear it. And you've been hearing it for seventeen years, from all sides. Your neighbors and your classmates and your teachers and even your _friends_. I mean, Puck makes more 'gay sex is nasty' jokes than anyone else I know. And your dad loves you, of course, but he never talked to you about it, and I bet even when he did, he didn't say anything about that." Kurt shook his head, biting his lower lip as he listened. "Of course, then there's Mr. I-Put-My-Underwear-On-In-The-Shower-When-You're-Around." Blaine rolled his eyes, but he still seemed serious. "And then there are the locker rooms. You get to freshman year and locker rooms are where you get judged the _most_, and at McKinley… I can't even imagine," Blaine mumbled, looking down at the floor. "I mean, what happened with Karofsky, plus all the other torture I'm sure you faced in there when you played football. And you learned not to look, not only because in most cases you didn't _want_ to, but because looking was risking injury, and then that association forms in your brain without you realizing it. That looking at other men is _bad_, that _wanting_ to look at other men is bad, or shameful, or whatever. Combine that with your lack of… romantic options, and here we sit."

Kurt was silent for a long moment, processing, because Blaine _got it_. Blaine understood him, and why he felt so uncomfortable, and why couldn't people just _get_ it? "You should be a psychologist," Kurt murmured, finally.

"And I know nothing I says will really have an effect, nor at this point should it," Blaine said, scooting a little closer, "but you shouldn't feel that way. I know you're flamboyant, and you're comfortable with… admitting your sexuality, and you're not ready to act on it, and that's all fine, but you shouldn't be embarrassed or ashamed of wanting to be with men. There's nothing wrong with it, and no one cares. _Especially_ not here. This is the most accepting atmosphere you'll be in until college. The guys here are almost insanely comfortable with us being around. Hell, the guys here wouldn't care if you ogled them. They would probably be flattered." Kurt chuckled at that. "Hell, half of them are gay themselves!"

"Is it just me, or is there a disproportionate number of homosexual students at Dalton?" Kurt asked with a little smile.

"One come make the argument that it's a specialty school in more ways than one," Blaine teased in return.

"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt said sincerely, reaching out to take his best friend's hand, but he saw Blaine glance towards the action, not resisting, just… "What?"

"Nothing," Blaine said, squeezing his hand. "You're welcome. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I called you unsexy, and made you uncomfortable, and made you sit through the sex talk with your dad, and… can't seem to stop flirting with you no matter what I do."

"Is that what that was?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was Charlie's suggestion," Blaine admitted finally. "He said that maybe if I treated you more like a best friend should, if I weren't so flirty, I would have a better chance of not screwing things up anymore."

"Oh."

"Clearly, that did not work," Blaine said with another little laugh. "Apparently, flirting is my nature."

"Okay, first of all, this," Kurt held up their conjoined hands, "is not flirting. Second, it's not like I _mind_. If I minded someone being flirty, I wouldn't be able to tolerate you. My feelings are my problem, not yours."

"But I'm not exactly helping."

"You don't need to," Kurt said firmly. "And yes, maybe this would be easier if you weren't so naturally flirty, but changing who you are isn't that easy."

"I noticed," Blaine said, chuckling. "I still need to think about the way my actions affect others."

"Yes," Kurt admitted, "but the first step is admitting you have a problem." They both laughed at that, even though it wasn't even remotely funny. "So, what the hell is Hummelsexual?"

"Apparently, it's some sort of weird phenomenon where straight men are inexplicably attracted to you," Blaine said with a shrug. "The word appears to have stemmed from the performance today, though I'm sure it's been around."

"I doubt it," Kurt said with a snort. "If that had happened at McKinley, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Blaine laughed.

"Oh, no, I think it's exactly how much _gay_ men like you that got you here." Kurt laughed at that, even though it was too soon to laugh. Maybe it would always be too soon. Blaine had looked a little timid, but he was smiling and-

"I can't fucking believe…" Chris trailed off. "Oh, great. He's back." Chris rolled his eyes and walked back out of the room.

"What was that about?"

"I don't think he likes you very much," Kurt admitted, because Chris didn't seem able to see the _good_ in Blaine that Kurt did.

"I can't exactly blame him," Blaine mumbled.

"Hey," Kurt said, catching Blaine's chin without thinking about it as he went to look down, "you're not a bad person, Blaine." He was… holding Blaine's face. Close. _Very_ close. Close enough that he could lean forward or pull Blaine towards him and just… No. They'd had enough incidents where they almost kissed that Kurt knew it wasn't a good idea, however tempting. If Blaine was confused, he wouldn't make any decisions for him. "You're just an idiot," he added after a too-long silence, lightening the mood and making Blaine smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Holy crap, today is a day for monster chapters! This one is close to fifteen thousand words! But it has been a month, so I guess you guys deserve it. The good news is, this is the last of Sexy. And before you guys yell at me, this is not the last of Blaine's groveling or apologies. On the contrary, this is just the beginning. I believe literary people call this the tipping point? Forty chapters in... wow. Thank you all for putting up with me for so long :)**

**Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. Sorry it took so long. Go critique, I know there's a lot in here (the first confrontation, and the locker room incident, **_**Do Ya Think I'm Sexy**_** from a straight guys' perspective, and of course, the ending) that might make a few of you pout at me.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?_' by Rod Stewart (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>Animal<em>' by the Neon Trees (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Landslide<em>' by Fleetwood Mac (in the style of _Glee_, kind of)  
>'<em>Fat Bottomed Girls<em>' by Queen (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)

**Reviews are Love. Three more episodes to go.**


	41. The Best of Realizations

Kurt was sitting calmly in one of the innumerable study rooms available at Dalton with many of the other Warblers (all of them, as a matter of fact), making notes to himself and listening to the dramatic tolling of the clock at Dalton, which rang every hour on the hour and was at the moment announcing three o'clock. He was also sipping a coffee he had brought from the Lima Bean. Usually he and Blaine made a habit of going to the Lima Bean together and drinking their coffees _there_, but apparently Blaine was trying to ease up on his coffee addiction. Or he was trying to avoid Kurt after whatever had happened the previous night. Plus, Warblers' practice happening in about a minute was going to be a little different, apparently.

See, David had a theory. And being Wes' devoted and manipulative boyfriend, that theory was then passed on to Wes, who imposed it on everyone else. David's theory was simple: some of the best numbers they had performed were done off the top of their heads: _I'm a Believer_ at Gerigno's Café, _Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)_ on the bus home from Sectionals, _Drops of Jupiter_ over the loudspeakers, _Bills, Bills, Bills_, another experiment, and almost all of the impromptu numbers (since sometimes the Warblers' planning seemed an awful lot like the New Directions' planning). So, he decided that for the first of the everyday rehearsals, they should try to do a number with absolutely no planning, using a song that was common enough for everyone to know it. Blaine would, of course, be singing the lead, and it was going to start any second.

Just as Kurt thought it, Blaine came bursting into the room, singing and throwing paper everywhere, the accompaniment quickly flaring up to join him.

_Oh, yeah  
><em>_Oh, yeah_

_So scared of breaking it  
><em>_That you won't let it bend  
><em>_And I wrote two hundred letters  
><em>_I will never send_

Kurt flicked some papers off his homework with annoyance, trying to get into the mood for Regionals. Everyone else seemed excited, guys standing up and dancing with Blaine or moving along in their chairs. Blaine was pretending to bend an apparently firm bar as he sang, walking towards the hallway throwing papers around and then grabbing Kurt's arm in the middle of the verse, the countertenor quickly throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder as Blaine dragged him along.

_Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem  
><em>_You'd rather cover up  
><em>_I'd rather let them bleed  
><em>_So, let me be  
><em>_And I'll set you free_ (_oh, yeah_)

Blaine wrapped his arm casually around Kurt's shoulder, singing mostly into his shoulder, and Kurt skipped along with him, happy to keep up appearances for the crowd gathering in the hallway. Blaine parked him on a bench as the verse turned into the pre-chorus, gesturing for the more talented Warblers to start dancing (David being a part, so there was no way they hadn't worked out a little bit of choreography earlier) and following Kurt onto his bench.

_I am in misery  
><em>_There ain't nobody who can comfort me_ (_oh, yeah_)  
><em><span>Why won't you answer me?<span>  
><em>_The silence is slowly killing me_ (_oh, yeah_)

Kurt sang along, aware of what parts he was supposed to add to the backup, mostly ignoring Blaine as the tenor leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder and gestured dramatically, always full of energy and life and positivity. The countertenor was guiltily grateful that Blaine stood up at the end of the chorus to join the dancers, that Warbler spell that kept them all in sync working its magic, and since there were no eyes on him, Kurt was disinclined to sing along.

_Girl, you really got me bad  
><em>_You really got me bad  
><em>_I'm gonna get you back  
><em>_I'm gonna get you back_

_You say your faith is shaken  
><em>_And you may be mistaken  
><em>_To keep me wide awake and waiting for the sun _(waiting for the sun)  
><em>I'm desperate and confused<br>__So far away from you  
><em>_I'm getting there, I don't care where I have to run_

Getting a sour look from Wes, who was trapped within the confines of semi-coordinated Warbler dancing, Kurt stood up and started to dance and sing along at the second verse. He kept to the side and watched Blaine's patented 'making dance moves to fit the lyrics' style.

_Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?  
><em>_Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?_

On this part, the very cultured Warblers started banging on conveniently-placed tables and clapping along to the music. Kurt stayed away from the tables but clapped along, noticing the crowd they had gathered joining in the song as much as they could. The vibrations were enough to shake the gorgeous, ornate chandelier hanging directly above the hallway. Still, the energy in the room was infectious and fantastic, even if Kurt was a little tired of the sound of his friend's voice.

_I am in misery  
><em>_There ain't nobody who can comfort me_ (yeah!)

_Girl, you really got me bad  
><em>_You really got me bad  
><em>_Now, I'm gonna get you back  
><em>_I'm gonna get you back_

The Warblers used the same choreography from the last time they had sang those words, but everyone joined in, picking up the steps quickly, with the exception of a few people who had taken refuge from the flying limbs on Kurt's bench.

The music cut off suddenly, since it was entirely voice powered, and before any applause could begin, Blaine cupped his hands around his mouth and announced, "Hey, Regionals, you've just met our opening number!" Of _course_. Still, everyone else cheered, patting Blaine on the back or hugging him.

"How did you manage to find a Burberry-esque canary cage cover?" Blaine asked with a smile as Kurt picked up his bird from where he had been moved to a bench.

"Canaries don't like cold weather," Kurt informed his best friend as he removed the cover, "especially Pavarotti." The bird tweeted happily, recognizing his name.

"So, what'd you think of the song?" Blaine asked, sounding excited and still a little bit out of breath.

Kurt resisted the temptation to say, 'Did you not see my face?' because he knew it was rude, but he was _so_ tired of songs just like that. "Can I be _really_ honest with you?" he asked instead. "Because it comes from a place of caring."

The smile had dropped off Blaine's face, but he jerked his head in something Kurt assumed was assent. "Been there, done that," he admitted, trying to ignore the hurt and surprise that immediately showed on his friend's face. "Look, you're amazing, Blaine," Kurt softened the comment, trying not to put too much emphasis anywhere. "Your solos are breath-taking," he added, making Blaine turn his head away in what was probably supposed to be humility but didn't _quite_ make it there. "They're also numerous," he added, walking away with Pavarotti.

"Kurt, the council decides who gets the solos," Blaine added in a voice _far_ too close to amusement, following Kurt a few steps. He knew that voice, it was Blaine's 'trying to explain Dalton to Kurt' voice, and he was really starting to hate it. "Do I detect a little jealousy?" he asked with fake nonchalance, putting his hands in his pockets.

"No, you detect a _lot_ of jealousy," Kurt admitted, ignoring again the expression of surprise (which contained just a touch of amusement, again). "Look, Blaine, sometimes I don't feel like we're the Warblers. I feel like we're… Blaine and the Pips."

The amusement had dropped out of Blaine's expression, and since his friend didn't seem inclined to say anything more, Kurt walked away, making sure to double-back and grab Pavarotti's Burberry-esque canary cage cover. Because it really had been a hard find.

* * *

><p><em>Misery<em>, an aptly chosen song, was the extent of Warbler rehearsal for that Friday afternoon (and despite Blaine's announcement, Wes didn't look pleased; Kurt highly doubted that the Maroon 5 song would be making an appearance at Regionals), so Kurt headed straight from his quick conversation with Blaine up to his dorm room, packing his bag for the weekend. Blaine wouldn't be accompanying him, since he would apparently be spending the next two days plotting with Wes about Regionals (he was their Vocal Captain after all), so Kurt was going to spend some 'white flag time' (as Rachel had called it) with the New Directions before the competition. Of course, since Rachel was a part of the plan, though she had communicated with him through Finn (possibly just needing a reason to talk to him), there was the rule that they absolutely could not talk about Regionals no matter what, which would almost certainly be broken.

"Bye, Chris," he said to his roommate, who ignored him. Ever since he had revealed he and Blaine… made up, to a point, Chris had been giving him a very juvenile silent treatment. Kurt knew he wasn't actually _mad_, but that he didn't approve of Blaine, not as a romantic interest or even as a friend. Apparently, he was more than capable of holding a grudge.

All he got from his roommate was a noncommittal grunt as he grabbed his bags and Pavarotti and headed down the hall. The school had no problem with students leaving on weekends (especially not Warblers), as long as they signed out they weren't penalized for missing curfew. Had Dalton been anything like McKinley, students would have abused that rule all over the place, but instead the boys were fairly responsible about signing out and curfew. The ladies in the student affairs office were used to seeing Kurt sign out almost every Friday, occasionally with Blaine, and had begun the practice of signing him (them) out as he (they) walked past with a little wave, not forcing him (them) to stop with all of his (their) bags.

Unfortunately, the Dalton administration was not the only body of power he served under, so he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his bird with the other and walked down the hall to the room Wes and David shared, despite the rule that boys in a relationship couldn't room together. Wes answered the door, which was unlucky.

"I'm headed home for the weekend, so I won't be at practice on Saturday or Sunday." When Wes had said everyday rehearsals, he had meant _every_ day, but Kurt wasn't exactly necessary, and his last weekend home had been effectively ruined by Blaine.

"Okay," Wes said, surprisingly calm. "We'll be working on set lists and basic harmonies. I'll have sheet music for you when you return on Sunday night."

"Uh, thank you," Kurt said, trying not to sound too surprised.

"Have a good weekend," Wes said, which was a clear dismissal. When Kurt turned around to walk away he didn't hear the door close, and he was only a few feet down the hallway when he heard, "Kurt?"

"Yeah," he asked, turning around and bracing himself to be either yelled at or denied the opportunity to go home for the weekend.

"Are you and Blaine okay?" was Wes' innocent and sincere question.

Kurt swallowed a little lump in his throat, hitching his messenger bag up higher on his shoulder. "Yes," he finally decided to say. "Blaine and I are okay." He couldn't promise Wes anything more than that.

* * *

><p>Kurt was greeted enthusiastically when he returned home. Thanks to <em>Misery<em> and the brief meeting they'd had before setting up for the number (though David had insisted it be _completely_ impromptu, so no one was allowed to mention the song), everyone else had arrived home before him. Neither Quinn nor Rachel was in sight, for which he was grateful (he was doing his best to stay out of that whole mess of Finn's), but his dad was home from the garage, Carole was making dinner, and Finn was sulking on the couch about something.

"How was your week?" Carole asked innocently. Although her questions were just motherly concern, she was by far the most intrusive of Kurt's family.

"Dalton's never boring," Kurt promised her with a smile, figuring that was close enough to the truth. In all honesty, his week had been a whirlwind, and he had a feeling the week right before Regionals would be even worse. The council had been fairly calm about Sectionals (as far as he knew, he hadn't been at the school for very long), but Wes seemed to have gone off the deep end about Regionals, David was taking advantage of that to talk his boyfriend into various musical schemes, and Thad had absolutely no control.

"No Blaine this weekend?" Okay, there was no way Carole didn't know that Blaine was a touchy subject. She had witnessed his arrival _and_ departure last weekend, and while things were better than they had been in the middle of 'Sexy' week, they still weren't entirely comfortable.

"Week before Regionals," Kurt answered honestly. "The Warblers are very absorbed in planning, and Blaine's Vocal Captain, so…" He shrugged, not wanting to say anything more. "How long until dinner?"

"About forty minutes, I just got home," Carole said, returning to whatever cooking she was doing.

"I'll be upstairs putting my stuff away," Kurt said, heading off to do exactly that.

Most of his conversation with Blaine had gone very well, the tenor apologizing for all the idiotic things he had done during the Warblers' little experiment in sexiness, and Kurt was forgiving enough of all of Blaine's errors, as numerous as they were, but one thing he'd said had lodged itself in Kurt's mind.

Blaine was _confused_, clearly, and he'd said so several times. The problem was when Kurt had asked what about, Blaine hadn't exactly given him an answer. Not enough of an answer that he felt confident voicing his guess, even to himself. Still, if Blaine meant what Kurt thought Blaine meant… Kurt sighed, throwing his messenger bag and suitcase onto his bed and placing Pavarotti on the desk. He didn't dare open the cage without checking all the windows first, so he whistled to his bird instead, Pav hopping right over towards him and answering joyfully. "I'm crazy, right?" he asked his bird, who thankfully didn't answer. Then he really would have been concerned for his sanity. Talking to a canary was bad enough, but believing… "If Blaine had feelings for me, I'm sure he would have mentioned them before this." His train of thought ended suddenly when Pavarotti pecked sharply at his fingers. He yelped, withdrawing his fingers from the cage. "What is the matter with you?" he asked his bird, but Pavarotti just rather angrily tweeted at him. With a sigh, he checked his windows and let the impatient canary out of his cage.

The only thing in his life that he considered more annoying than Blaine was the Warbler council. He was perfectly friendly with all of its members, outside of rehearsal, but the fact that the Head Warbler required (presumably sexual) coercion to try new things was driving him crazy. And no, sexiness was not the theme for them, and dance rehearsal had ended in more injuries and awkwardness than anything useful, so Kurt could understand to a point why Wes didn't want to try new things, but it wasn't exactly like there old method was tried and true! Sectionals was the first competition they had won in quite a while. And still Wes refused to shake the image of uptight, uniformed private-school boys that wasn't winning them any favor with anyone.

Once upon a time, he had told Mercedes that the finer things in life should be admired, not envied, especially if one was being denied them. The context had been a solo of Rachel's that 'Cedes had wanted for herself, and at the time, Kurt had thought her petty for putting so much emphasis on that one song (one Mercedes didn't particularly connect with or even _like_) just because it was near-automatically going to Rachel as the primary belter and female lead of the club. Now, he felt bad for silently judging his best friend, because even though the New Directions were pretty bad about handing out parts, they had more than _one_ soloist ever! And no, none of the ND solos had ever gone to him, but he also couldn't say that he had never been given the chance (after some fire-based coercion by his father). And yes, the Warblers 'auditioned' solos, but everyone knew it was a farce. And the Warblers had been following through on that less and less, just giving solos to Blaine. It was frustrating as anything, especially considering he knew Blaine was only one of many talented boys in the Warblers. Over the past few months, he'd heard _many_ of the Warblers sing, and they were all talented. That's why the Warblers held auditions, they weren't like the New Directions (who magically only had talented singers despite their refusal to deny anyone entrance to the club), they were very upfront about rejecting people who couldn't sing. Yet, the only person who got the opportunity was _Blaine_. Yes, Kurt admired his best friend's talent, he knew Blaine was _extraordinary_, but he was getting tired of the tenor's voice. And he felt bad for snapping at Blaine and essentially telling him as much, especially because he doubted Blaine could really _do_ anything, but Kurt was still having trouble with uniformity. A world consisting entirely of blazers and gray slacks and striped ties was bad enough, but he had absolutely no opportunity to stand out, not even for his most unique attribute: his voice.

Kurt realized he had been sighing and huffing as he mused, putting away everything in his bag and pulling out other clothes (while they would be in uniform for Regionals, he would be spending the competition weekend at Dalton, and he refused to deny his style for that long). He realized this only when Finn said from the doorway, "You sound frustrated."

"I live in a world of blazers, gray slacks, and solos that automatically go to Blaine," Kurt snapped, the same way he'd spoken to Blaine earlier. "Of course I'm frustrated."

"Are you and Blaine… um…" Kurt did his best to suppress his laughter, because he knew Finn was _trying_.

"Do you really want to talk about boys, Finn?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow in his brother's direction. "Or is this just your way of segueing into a conversation about your woman problems? Because as much as I love all three of you, I'm staying out of the mess you've made for yourself."

"Nah, I don't want to talk about Rach-Quinn! My _girlfriend_, Quinn," he emphasized just a touch too late, and Kurt rolled his eyes, keeping his back to Finn as he put thing in his closet.

"And I don't want to talk about Blaine," Kurt replied, not commenting on Finn's little slip. "Neither do you," he pointed out, trying to be warmer to his brother than he had been to his best friend earlier. Sighing when he realized he wasn't, he added, "But thank you for asking."

"How are the Warblers?" Finn asked casually, still not leaving. Apparently, he was trying to do a warm-milk chat without destroying the microwave, for which Kurt was grateful.

"I would accuse you of trying to spy for Rachel, but I know you're just jealous that I spend my entire life with twenty-something boys who love sports and song and girls… mostly." Kurt grinned at his brother, who took a seat on his bed. "How are the New Directions?"

"I don't know…" Finn answered. "Some weird stuff has happened this week."

Kurt chuckled at that. "You have _no_ idea."

"I'll trade you my weirdest story for yours," Finn offered with a grin.

"I'm not sure you want to _hear_ my weirdest story," Kurt replied as he sat down on his vanity. Finn had become wonderfully accepting, the first straight guy to ever sit on his bed comfortably (his father didn't count, of course), but Kurt still kept his distance. Finn sitting on his bed was one thing. Finn and Kurt sitting on his bed _together_ was a whole different situation. "It involves the Warblers, a locker room, and showering." Finn shuttered dramatically at the thought (apparently he _had_ picked up some things from Kurt, even though they hadn't seen much of each other during the last few months), and Kurt tried to push the image of a shirtless Blaine from his mind, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

"You're right, I don't," Finn admitted. "Still want to hear mine?" He unfortunately chose to turn around to ask that question, and he threw a questioning look Kurt's way when he saw how red the countertenor's cheeks were.

"Shut up," Kurt said before his step-brother had the chance to say anything. "Sure, I'm used to New Directions' shenanigans."

"Well, it's kind of a toss-up between Puck and Lauren deciding to make a sex tape, Miss Pillsbury and the Celibacy Club singing _Afternoon Delight_ to the Glee Club, and Sam sexually propositioning Artie."

"What?" Kurt shrieked, too beyond shocked to care that his voice had come out high and sharp.

Finn just laughed, purposefully having caused that reaction. "I don't think he knows about Santana and Brittany, because he told Artie that he wished they were 'that close.'"

Kurt couldn't help it, he could tell by the slight tenseness in Finn's face that he was uncomfortable making the joke, but it had been a really stressful week and he burst out laughing without intending to. Poor Sam, he was still so new to the New Directions. Kurt practically laughed himself stupid, almost falling out of his chair, and when his explosion had faded to the occasional giggle, Finn asked, "Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded, wiping the beginning of tears from his eyes. Finn was grinning, either amused himself, proud that he had made the joke without wincing at the thought (which he had done on several occasions when Puck made anal jokes), or happy that he had made Kurt laugh so hard. "Tell me about the other ones."

"Well, Lauren decided a sex tape was the best way to get famous, but Miss Holiday quickly talked them out of it because it's… you know, underage stuff." Kurt nodded. "And Miss Pillsbury apparently thought _Afternoon Delight_ was about the dessert." Kurt chuckled at that. "So they performed it in, like, long skirts with big pictures of pie in the background." Kurt both laughed and rolled his eyes, because there was nowhere quite as crazy as McKinley. "Miss Holiday really missed you, dude."

"I'm sure she's only fond of me because I introduced her to the club," Kurt assured himself more than anyone. "Or she was looking for an excuse to embarrass everyone by talking about…" Kurt trailed off, because the last thing he needed was to blush _more_, and some of the diagrams in his stupid pamphlets were making an appearance in his mind.

"She totally would have done that," Finn agreed, but he sounded uncomfortable again. "And it's not just that, we all miss you."

"Making one last-ditch attempt to draw me back to McKinley before Regionals?" Kurt asked, but it didn't come out sounding quite as light and happy as he'd intended it.

"I know you're safer there, and you're happy, and you have Blaine and everything," Kurt didn't bother to argue with his last point, that was far too complicated at the moment, "but we really miss having you around, dude."

"And I miss you and Mercedes and Tina and Brittany and Rachel and Sam and Artie and even Santana just a little bit," Finn chuckled at that, "but I like Dalton, too. And right now, it's the better place for me."

"You're still coming to the barbecue at Brittany's tomorrow, right? It's a pre-Regionals thing, but Rachel said you were coming anyway."

"Of course," Kurt promised.

* * *

><p>Santana was already at Brittany's house when Kurt and Finn arrived, looking very comfortable on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. "Oh, look, it's our own gay little Benedict Arnold."<p>

"At least my nickname isn't 'Sandbags,'" Kurt replied just as snippily, but he didn't take the insult personally and he knew Santana wouldn't either. "How's the girlfriend?"

"How's the boyfriend?" she asked in return, and it didn't take a leap of intuition to know whom she was talking about. Kurt's only answer was a reflexive sigh, which told her pretty much everything she needed to know.

Thankfully, her inevitable comment was interrupted by Brittany walking into her kitchen and launching herself into Kurt's arms with an excited cry of "Kurty!" She latched tightly onto him, and Kurt returned the hug. He really had missed all of his McKinley friends. "How's the land of cute boys?"

Kurt chuckled, because normally Brittany's comments didn't make a lot of sense, but that was one description of Dalton he completely agreed with. "Good," he answered, now a little uncomfortable with how long the blonde girl had been hugging him.

"Did Sanny tell you that we're-" Santana quickly ended both Brittany's comment and the hug by grabbing the blonde girl's arm and pulling her away, muttering something that sounded angry and… a touch hurt? Kurt raised an eyebrow at Finn, who shook his head as if to say, 'Don't ask.'

"Brittany!" came the shrill voice of the New Directioneer he had spoken to most recently. "No revealing secrets about Regionals!" she continued to announce at an unnecessarily loud volume. Then, with a smile that masked her inner crazy, she turned to Kurt and gave him a thankfully-quick hug, without even asking first. "Sorry, but we can't let a Warbler know all of our secrets," she said as she let him go. Kurt doubted that the club had _anything_ planned for Regionals, but he let her have her moment. "How's Blaine?" was her next question.

"Eagerly pouring over set list possibilities with Wes," Kurt answered, responding to the letter of her words instead of the spirit. She fixed him with a look, but didn't say anything further, instead turning to his unfortunate brother.

"Finn, I have something else I want to get your feedback on," Rachel said, grabbing Finn's arm and dragging him away from Kurt. The countertenor assumed either Rachel wanted to get Finn alone or it was something about Regionals, but he honestly didn't care.

People were starting to flow in. Puck had already relaxed on the couch with a beer and some chips he had presumably gotten from the kitchen (he seemed as comfortable in Santana's house as Brittany was, not that that surprised anyone), not bothering to say hello to anyone, and Lauren had taken up the seat next to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They had turned on the last dregs of March Madness, and Mike had gone over to watch as well, sitting in an armchair.

"White boy!" Mercedes exclaimed as she walked in, Kurt practically running over to hug her. "I have missed you, Rachel's driving me _crazy_ and everyone's suddenly fixated on sex."

"Unfortunately, Dalton was not immune from that little bout of fixation," Kurt said with a sigh. "I'm beginning to think I did a terrible thing by introducing these two clubs to one another."

"You mean because Wes hasn't stopped texting Satan for the last month?" Mercedes asked with a chuckle as she grabbed some lemonade out of the fridge, getting one for him, too. They settled at the kitchen table since Santana had vacated. "If it was anyone but Santana, I would wonder."

Kurt laughed at that. "If it was anyone but _Wes_, I would wonder," he returned, because he knew how crazy Wes and David were about one another, even though they had calmed down the public displays of affection due to Regionals. Plus, Wes had very freely admitted that he was gay.

Sam waved at Kurt and Mercedes as he walked in, but he headed for the March Madness viewing in the living room. Finn looked very frustrated, still being bombarded by an eager Rachel. Kurt noticed Quinn watching them, looking fairly annoyed. He turned back to his best friend, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah," she answered the unasked question. "Quinn had a hickey last week that almost started World War Glee."

"Plus she hasn't stopped supervising," Tina added as she sat down next to them with her own drink. "It's like she's afraid to leave them alone."

"I don't blame her," Kurt commented. "Anytime those two are alone in a room together, I've made it a policy to knock first." Kurt knew the face he made was a little childish, but it made Tina and Mercedes laugh.

"Oh, did someone tell you Mr. Schue and Miss Holiday are dating?" Tina asked, his girls doing their duty of filling him in on all the details of McKinley High.

"No, but it doesn't surprise me. He can't keep his hands off _any_ woman who can sing, I swear." Kurt rolled his eyes. Mr. Schuester was a nice man and an occasionally decent Glee director, but his personal life was complicated and not quite personal enough for Kurt's taste.

"Miss Pillsbury and her husband are having trouble," Tina added.

"Shocker," Mercedes and Kurt chorused before grinning at each other.

"The celibacy club at McKinley is a farce, as usual," Mercedes added.

"Yes, Rachel did try to sell me a chastity charm."

"Can't imagine why you wouldn't want one," Tina teased him, and he had no defense against the blush that rose to his cheeks.

"And something's going on with Santana and Brittany that no one can quite puzzle out," Kurt surmised based on what he had just witnessed and a performance of _Landslide_ he'd heard about at some point during the week.

"As usual," Mercedes said with a nod, waving to Artie. The bespectacled boy normally would have come over and said hello, but things were still awkward between him and Tina, so he settled for a little wave towards the table as he wheeled himself towards basketball.

"Blaine told me you two had a nice little talk yesterday," Rachel said as she inserted herself into their conversation, snagging a chair.

Before Kurt could ask any of the billion questions that statement brought up, many of which were quite panicked, Mr. Pierce stood up and took orders from the gathered teenagers, which caused quite a clamor as Puck and Finn fought over which one of them should get the three cheese-and-jalapeño filled hot dogs. They both wanted _all three_. Pigs.

"You still talk to Blaine?" was the question Kurt had finally decided on once the commotion ended with Sam very logically suggesting they split the special hot dogs equally and also both have some regular ones. _Pigs_.

"Last time I checked, he dumped you for… well, men," Mercedes said with a grin, but her eyes flickered to Kurt in the moment of hesitation.

"Of course, but that doesn't mean we can't still be friends!" Rachel said brightly, always the annoying optimist.

"Blaine doesn't really get the whole 'crazy' thing, does he?" Tina muttered to Kurt, who laughed. Rachel and Blaine were eerily alike, even in the fact that they were both currently frustrating the hell out of him.

"Of course you can," Kurt said, placating her. "And exactly how much…" Kurt trailed off, because he knew if he admitted that it was a private conversation he didn't want Rachel to know about, they would all insistently press him for details. Still, he couldn't imagine Blaine telling a girl he'd only been talking to for a few weeks about that conversation. Kurt hadn't even told _Chris_, much to his roommate's annoyance. Likely, the only people who knew were him, Blaine, and Charlie. Blaine told Charlie _everything_.

"Don't worry, he didn't give me any details," Rachel said dismissively. "Apparently, it was 'personal' and 'secret' and 'none of your business, Rachel,'" she said, pouting. "Still, he asked me to subtly check if you were still upset with him," she informed him point-blank, and Kurt couldn't help but smile. Clearly, Blaine hadn't been talking to Rachel that much, or he would have known how idiotic that plan was.

"This is _subtle_ to you?" Tina asked, sounding almost shocked.

"That would make you as bad as Kurt," Mercedes teased with a grin, nudging her best friend with her elbow.

"I'm not nearly as upset with Blaine as I was before," Kurt answered, figuring that his exact words would get back to Blaine. "And that's all I'm saying."

"Do you think Quinn and Finn are dating?" Rachel asked, and all other occupants of the table groaned. They were at their wit's end for conversations about Rachel, Quinn, and Finn.

* * *

><p>The New Direction ate enough to feed a small army, and were all lounging around in the living room, the guys (and Lauren) watching March Madness while the girls (and Kurt) chatted about people at McKinley outside the Glee club. Boys, Dalton had quickly taught Kurt, gossiped as much as girls, but since he knew more McKinley people than he did Dalton boys, McKinley gossip was much more fun. Anyway, everything was going great until Puck opened his big mouth. "I can't believe we're not doing any of the sexy stuff for Regionals. That was totally awesome." He followed his statement with a predatory look at Lauren.<p>

"Noah!" Rachel immediately objected.

"So far, we don't have _anything_ to do for Regionals," Quinn commented, and even though she neither looked at nor spoke to Rachel, she still somehow made it sound like the brunette soprano's fault.

"Quinn!" Rachel objected again, looking at Kurt in horror. The countertenor rolled his eyes.

"As long as Pixie over there doesn't start pushing for us to write songs again, we'll be fine," Santana commented as she stuffed her face with Cheez-Its. Apparently, she was one of those girls that ate when she was emotional. Brittany kept sending worried looks her way.

"Enough!" Rachel practically shrieked.

"Relax, Rachel," Kurt said, placating her again. "The Warblers don't have anything planned out either. And I'm not going to tell Wes or the council what I've heard. I'm not actually a traitor." Mercedes grinned and hugged him. Rachel huffed.

"You still shouldn't hear what we have planned," she argued.

"Or, rather, what you don't have planned," Kurt pointed out.

Over the last few weeks at Dalton, Kurt should have learned not to antagonize crazy people. Wes and Rachel were by far the craziest people he knew. Thus, Kurt found himself quickly booted out of the New Directions' barbecue, and the arguments made by Mercedes, Finn, Artie, and Sam that what he'd heard was 'no big deal' ultimately resulted in the disbanding of the little get-together.

Finn complained about Rachel all the way home, but Kurt'd had enough of that particular pairing and declined to say anything, focusing only on the double-yellow lines leading him home. Finn was _still_ whining about his ex-girlfriend as Kurt pulled into the driveway (though the bits of the soliloquy he heard sounded like they weren't at all about a barbecue), so Kurt got out of the car, leaving him talking to himself.

"Hey, honey, how was the barbecue?" Carole asked with a smile as he walked in. She and his father were on the couch, watching even _more_ of that unbelievably-long basketball tournament.

"Ruined by Rachel, as usual," Kurt commented, already headed for the stairs to feed Pavarotti. The poor bird had been alone all day.

"Hey, Kurt, you wanna come down here for a second?" His father's voice stopped him in his tracks. Repressing a sigh, Kurt walked back down the few stairs he had managed.

"Dad, I have to feed Pav," he said, absolutely positive that whatever conversation his father wanted to have, he didn't want to have it. Especially since Carole was getting up off the couch. Last time his father had cornered him without Carole…

"The bird can wait," Burt said, gesturing to the recently-vacated spot on the couch beside him. Kurt repressed a groan as he sat down, and his father waited until Carole was gone before asking, "How's everything at Dalton?"

"Fine. A little manic, considering how stressed and excited everyone is about Regionals, but fine. Great, actually," he said, because he had learned to love Dalton in the short time he had been there. Except for the solo-snatching and uniform, but his dad couldn't do anything about either of those things. Last time he had complained about a solo, Burt had threatened to take a blowtorch to McKinley. Dalton probably wouldn't take that so lightly.

His father gave him a look that suggested he wasn't buying it, but that wasn't the point he wanted to press on, lucky Kurt. "How's Blaine?"

This time Kurt actually did groan, hanging his head. "_Why_ has every straight man in my life suddenly decided he wants to talk to me about boys?"

"I'm your dad, kid, and this is your first… relationship, and-"

"Blaine and I aren't dating, Dad," Kurt said firmly. "We're nothing more than friends." That prompted another disbelieving look from his father. "We _aren't_," Kurt insisted, and resisted the urge to add, 'no matter how much I want us to be.' Because _no_, he wasn't having that conversation with his dad. _Ever_.

"Sure, kid," Burt said with a sigh, readjusting his baseball cap. Kurt caught a hint of hurt in his father's voice and sighed. His dad chose _now_ to get sensitive about what Kurt did and did not tell him?

"We aren't," Kurt said again, more firmly. "But I promise, if that every changes, you'll be the first to know."

"All right, son, go feed your bird." Kurt practically raced up the stairs, glad for the out.

* * *

><p>Kurt was grooming himself the next morning, mentally planning out what he was going to bring back to Dalton later that night and regretting eating so much at the barbecue yesterday (his stomach was complaining), when he got a text from Wes.<p>

From: Wes  
>'<span>We have decided on a P!nk medley for Regionals, with Blaine singing lead.<span>'

That didn't exactly surprise him, Dalton loved its Top 40 songs, and of _course_ Blaine was going to sing lead at Regionals. Kurt rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer the Head Warbler, instead continuing his extended moisturizing routine. Since he shared a bathroom with Chris, he tended to do the abridged version most nights he was at school, and his skin was suffering because of it.

A tweet alerted him to the awakening of his little friend. "Well, good morning there, sleepyhead." At first Kurt had felt ridiculous talking to the bird, since he couldn't answer, but that had gone away the more fond he had gotten of his canary. "How are you this morning?"

Pavarotti chirped happily, and Kurt laughed at his former notion that the bird couldn't answer him. "I'll feed you in a minute, I promise." Kurt went back to moisturizing, and smiled when Pav whistled _The Lazy Song_ at him. "I should not let you around Chris," he commented to the bird, whistling _One_ at the bird instead and smiling when the bird whistled in return.

They kept it up for a while, Kurt whistling something at the bird and Pav whistling it back to him. He was starting to do runs, Pavarotti incapable but always chirping back at him, as he filed his nails. He whistled to Pavarotti, continuing to file his nails, and then he paused when he didn't hear anything back. He stopped filing as he looked back at the cage, and he almost couldn't believe it when he saw his little yellow friend lying at the bottom. "Pavarotti?" he asked, getting no response. "Oh my God," he breathed out, putting down the file and kneeling next to the cage. "Pav?"

* * *

><p>Blaine had a headache building at his temples, and for once, it wasn't Charlie's fault. Charlie wasn't even <em>there<em>, he had left an hour ago when he had gotten tired of the proceedings. They were deciding on the little details for Regionals, since the set list had already been decided, and Blaine had decided to speak up (a bad choice, he quickly figured out listening to the arguing and complaining occurring around him).

He remembered something Kurt had once said about the wardrobe setting the mood for the performance, citing the dramatic way Vocal Adrenaline had dressed at the last Regionals (though Kurt had pronounced their dresses gaudy), with the guys in simple outfits to fit with their song and the girls having puffy skirts that twirled and raised dramatically as they danced and were flipped. The simple way the New Directions dressed at their first Sectionals, underscoring the fact that they were underdogs, and the more dramatic way they had dressed at their first Regionals. Even the spunky, stand-out outfits they'd worn at Sectionals (though Kurt had admitted that wasn't his favorite, and Blaine had detected a hint of smugness, as though the New Directions could only dress themselves when he was around).

With all of this in mind, Blaine had made a suggestion. And now his pounding head was his punishment. "Warblers! Warblers!" he said, standing up as he tried to talk over his comrades, the bang of Wes' gavel helping him. "I am merely suggesting that instead of wearing blue ties with red piping, we wear jackets with red ties and blue piping for the competition." This would at the very least prevent them from looking _exactly_ the same as they had during the last competition.

"This is a kangaroo court!" Trent proclaimed angrily.

Wes' gavel banged again, but before the upheaval could continue anew, the doors creaked open and everyone turned their attention to the latecomer. Blaine's heart dropped to his feet when he saw Kurt's expression, the countertenor walking slowly into the room, wearing entirely black clothing.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" he asked in the complete silence as his best friend continued into the room, because Kurt was even paler than normal and he was looking at the floor.

"It's Pavarotti," he answered, looking up to meet Blaine's eyes, and his face had that squished look it got right before he started crying. "Pavarotti's dead." Blaine felt his mouth drop open, but he couldn't help it. Kurt looked _miserable_, and he just wanted to give him a hug, but he knew Kurt was upset enough that he didn't particularly want to be touched. "I suspect a stroke," he continued, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry," Blaine said immediately, knowing it was weak but he didn't know what else to say.

"I know it's really stupid to be upset about a bird," Kurt continued, clearly not getting the message that _no one_ in the room thought he was stupid for being upset, "but… H-he inspired me with his optimism… and his love of song. He was my friend." Kurt paused, no one talking over him, everyone silent and solemn. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine noticed even Wes didn't look angry about Kurt barging in out of uniform, and David had his head bent, his mouth moving in what could have been a prayer. "Now, I know that today we need to practice doo-wopping behind Blaine while he sings every solo in the medley of P!nk songs," that hurt a little, but nothing could hurt more than Blaine's heart at Kurt's expression, "but I'd like to sing a song for Pavarotti today."

Still, no one raised an objection, because they didn't _do_ this… except for Kurt. Blaine would do anything for Kurt, the new addition to the Warblers who had at first been so fragile, and he knew the sentiment was shared throughout the whole room. The countertenor whipped a tape out of his jacket pocket, handing it to Luke Wright, and Blaine sat back down as Luke put in the tape, the familiar melody beginning to play a moment later.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
><em>_Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
><em>_All your life  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

It was sad that Kurt got to sing so rarely, his voice was so clear and pure, even when he was heart-broken and holding back tears. Blaine wasn't sure who started it, it may have even been him, but as Kurt began the second verse, the Warblers started providing the accompaniment along with the tape.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
><em>_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
><em>_All your life  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

Kurt still looked near tears (as did a few of the other Warblers, but Blaine couldn't seem to take his eyes off his best friend), but he didn't let them escape as he sang, still standing in the front of the room, completely lost in the song. His face was still a little red, like he may cry at any moment, but he looked… serene, as he sang.

_Blackbird fly_ (fly), _blackbird fly_ (fly, fly)  
><em>Into the light of the dark black night<em> (blackbird, fly)

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh  
><span>Oh, oh, oh  
><span>Ba, da, da, da, da, da  
><span>Da da da  
><span>Da da da da

Kurt had started to wander, over towards the tape player as the Warblers provided accompaniment almost absentmindedly, each lost in their thoughts. He brushed his fingers along the back of the couch as he walked, pale against the dark leather.

_Blackbird fly_ (fly), _blackbird fly_ (fly, fly)  
><em>Into the light of the dark black night<em> (blackbird, fly)

He looked so… lost in the song, even as a tear or two began to slide down his cheeks, and _beautiful_ despite his blotchy complexion, and Blaine wanted to stand up and pull his best friend into his arms, wiping those tears away and… _oh._

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Blaine ignored the strange looks he was getting from the people on the opposite couch as a smile grew on his face because… Well, _oh_. Everything was so simple. Kurt locked eyes with him, still singing, and everything made sense. Blaine wanted to hold him close and kiss him softly and make him feel all better, and his heart had risen very quickly from his feet into his throat because… _oh_.

"Thank you," Kurt said, sounding choked again, and no one said a word as he walked back out of rehearsal.

Silence followed Kurt's exit, until Wes cleared his throat. "We shall continue practicing," he said, a touch of coldness in his voice. "Blaine?" he asked, but Blaine was barely hearing his words. It sounded like his friend was underwater, because all he wanted to do was run after Kurt. "Blaine?" Wes asked again, a little more insistently. "Is everything okay?"

"Better than ever," he said with a grin that was totally out of place in the somber room. "Excuse me, Wes," he added casually, probably not surprising anyone as he walked out the doors, ignoring Wes' complaining about 'abandoning procedure altogether' as he followed Kurt. Without him there, they had nothing to do. Wes would fume, dismiss them, and he would pay for it in rehearsal tomorrow. He really didn't care, because he just saw a dash of black in a sea of blue disappear around a corner, and he jogged after his best friend. "Kurt!" he exclaimed.

He froze, all of his plans fading away when he saw how wet with tears his friend's face was, Kurt trying to avoid breaking down in the hallway. "Oh, hi, Blaine, I-" Blaine didn't let the countertenor finish his sentence before he wrapped his arms around him, holding his best friend close. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's shoulder and started crying in earnest.

"Shh, shh," Blaine whispered to him as he pulled Kurt toward the nearest bench, settling the too-light countertenor on his lap. "It's okay," he whispered, rubbing Kurt's back gently as Kurt's arms wrapped around his neck.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" Kurt managed to get out, but Blaine didn't need to explanation.

"Your mom, I know," he said softly. "It's okay, Kurt. It's all gonna be okay," he whispered gently to his best friend as he held Kurt close, kissing his head softly. If Kurt thought the behavior was odd, he didn't say anything, just curling himself tighter against Blaine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that shall be the end for this chapter. I'm sorry this took so long, I planned a lot more writing during my vacation and then it just slipped through my fingers without me writing a word. But I'm back and I'm excited and I'm going to start working on the next chapter right this minute because I'm having so much fun with Original Song (oh, and don't worry. We'll get more explanation for the whole 'Blackbird' thing later). And I purposefully took Charlie out of the Blackbird scene because I am firmly convinced that he would interrupt the song with a commotion upon seeing that expression cross Blaine's face. He will be in the next chapter. I missed him. Also, cheese and jalapeño stuffed hot dogs are one of the best things ever.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_I'm a Believer_' by Smash Mouth/the Monkees (mentioned)  
>'<em>Last Friday Night<em> _(T.G.I.F.)'_ by Katy Perry (mentioned)  
>'<em>Drops of Jupiter<em>' by Train (mentioned)  
>'<em>Bills, Bills, Bills<em>' by Destiny's Child (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Misery<em>' by Maroon 5 (in the style of _Glee; Italics is Blaine, _Underline is the other Warblers)  
>'<em>Afternoon Delight<em>' by Starland Vocal Band (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Landslide<em>' by Fleetwood Mac (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>The Lazy Song<em>' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)  
>'<em>One<em>' from _A Chorus Line_ (mentioned)  
>'<em>Blackbird<em>' by the Beatles (in the style of _Glee; Italics is Kurt_, Underline is the other Warblers)

**Reviews are Love.**


	42. Further Realizations

The best thing about having a very understanding father was that he didn't mind when his son decided to skip classes on a random Monday at the end of March because his son's bird died. The best thing about going to a boarding school was that parents weren't required to call in their kids sick; Dalton trusted their students implicitly (and sometimes stupidly) to accurately report their own health, and students weren't even required to call in as long as word got to their professors.

With Chris marginally talking to him again, swayed by his sad face and earlier tears about Pavarotti, and Blaine always ready to stand at his side, Kurt didn't even bother to call in sick on the day after his bird and friend died, instead spending most of the day in bed. It wasn't depression (though Blaine seemed awfully worried… unusually worried, as a matter of fact), but he certainly didn't feel like facing any of the Warblers he had fallen apart in front of the day before and he was _tired_. Physically (he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before), but also emotionally, from Pavarotti and the New Directions and Dalton and Regionals and… he needed a day off. It wasn't uncommon, so he decided to take one.

Blaine had been kind enough not to say anything once Kurt had calmed down the day before, gently leading him to his dorm room and settling him into bed, even going later to fetch him dinner in a box. His best friend didn't say much, it seemed like something was weighing on his mind, but Blaine's presence and gentle bedside manner was comforting, and Kurt wasn't about to turn that down. Chris, seeing Kurt's blotchy and teary face upon entering the room, didn't even say anything to Blaine beyond an initial scoff.

Kurt spent most of the morning sleeping (waking up every morning at five was admirable, but he wasn't _really_ a morning person, and he had some sleep to catch up on), and was relaxing in his room, scanning the sheet music Wes had dropped off for their P!nk medley. He could think of a hundred songs better to sing at Regionals than any of the songs that had been chosen, but he knew he couldn't sway the council. The only person capable of that was Blaine, and he was… in agreement, to a point, and also very quietly recently.

Blaine was being frustrating, as usual, and it wasn't helping that Kurt was already kind of… vulnerable. It wasn't a state he admitted to being in often, but he had cried a bit in front of the Warblers while delivering a moving Beatles solo and broken down in Blaine's arms, so there was really no use denying it. Still, trying to think about Blaine and his newfound attitude along with dealing with Pav, it wasn't easy. And he knew everyone would get that, if he explained it, but he didn't really feel like talking everyone's ears off in order to explain why he was so quiet. So he was in his dorm room, alone. And he had transitioned from listening to the P!nk medley, instead listening to songs he thought would be better for Regionals, and generally just letting iTunes shuffle give him life advice. The computer program was surprisingly good at that sometimes. And when the song came on at around two-thirty, he couldn't help but sing along.

_I can hold my breath  
><em>_I can bite my tongue  
><em>_I can stay awake for days  
><em>_If that's what you want  
><em>_Be your number one_

_I can fake a smile  
><em>_I can force a laugh  
><em>_I can dance and play the part  
><em>_If that's what you ask  
><em>_Give you all I am_

_I can do it  
><em>_I can do it  
><em>_I can do it_

_But I'm only human  
><em>_And I bleed when I fall down  
><em>_I'm only human  
><em>_And I crash and I break down  
><em>_Your words in my head, knives in my heart  
><em>_You build me up and then I fall apart  
><em>'_Cause I'm only human_

"That was beautiful," came Blaine's voice from the door, and _shoot_. "Sorry, it was open. Chris must have forgotten to lock it," he said with a shrug, and while Kurt could tell his best friend was hurt by his roommate's disapproval, that was the last thing on his mind. "How are you feeling?" Blaine leaned against the doorframe, not quite inviting himself in, one hand behind his back.

"Better," Kurt answered decisively.

Blaine raised an eyebrow at him, clearly questioning his song choice.

"iTunes shuffle," Kurt quickly defended himself. "And it's a good song."

"Right," Blaine muttered, clearly appeasing Kurt because he knew the countertenor well enough to know that Kurt wasn't in the mood to be messed with or have an argument. "Are you hungry?" he asked, holding out the item previously hidden behind him: a sick box from the cafeteria. "You're technically supposed to order these things in the morning if you're not feeling good, for the rest of the day, but the lunch lady was nice."

"She thinks you're cute," Kurt said with a little laugh, because their lunch lady was surprisingly not that old, and seemed very _fond_ of Blaine.

"She thinks I'm charming," Blaine corrected with a little smile, apparently taking Kurt's happiness as an invitation to come in, "and I, for one, know how to take advantage of that." It was Kurt's turn to raise an eyebrow. "For a friend, of course," Blaine quickly corrected with a little smile.

"But of course." This time Kurt was appeasing _him_. "So, did you want to practice for Regionals? Because I can just leave." Blaine handed over his sick meal, a chicken caesar salad, some couscous with carrot bits, a bottle of water, and a bag of Cheetos. "Are you trying to kill me?" he asked, aware that _Blaine_ was aware those were his guilty pleasure.

"Why would I ever want to do that?" Blaine automatically teased in return, smiling. Then he apparently thought the rest of the countertenor's words through and asked, "Still bitter?" the little smile totally gone. "I really didn't choose those songs, you have to know that." His best friend sounded earnest and anxious and eager and it was… odd. But not unwelcome.

"I know," Kurt said, trying to push back all the sassy comments that sprung to mind. "I did hear about the revolution you caused by trying to do something minor with our ties." Blaine groaned, putting his head in his hands dramatically.

"I'm never volunteering another idea with the Warblers again," he said with a sigh. "It's way too much of a headache. You interrupted most of the riot, but they were even bothering me again today, suggesting that everything was _perfect_ with our last performance. I tried to remind them there are no ties at Regionals: three judges, which means there can only be one result. But _no_, they won't listen to reason!"

Kurt was staring. And it wasn't the _usual_ reason he stared, which was that he had found something Blaine had just done to be unreasonably cute and was trying to process, but rather because he actually couldn't believe what he was hearing. Blaine Anderson didn't see the wonder in all things that happened at Dalton? Blaine Anderson actually had things he would change about the school and the Warblers and the way the show choir was run? Blaine Anderson had_ doubts_? "Wow," was his only response.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, you drama queen," Blaine commented as he moved to sit next to Kurt on his bed, instead of standing awkwardly between the countertenor's bed and Chris', "we've talked about this before. The Warblers are great, but there are things we could all do better."

"Yes, well if anyone can convince them, it's you," Kurt pointed out his earlier observation as he started on his dinner.

"If anyone can convince _Wes_, it's David, and I honestly don't think Thad really has a say anymore, but he's not _listening_ to me. I think he's been infected by his boyfriend's nerves, because he's convinced the 'traditional way' will win us Regionals."

"When has the 'traditional way' ever won you anything?" Kurt exclaimed, and then withdrew his comment with a little, "Sorry."

"You're right," Blaine admitted. "You're _rude_, but you're right. We've never been able to win competitions by being stiff and formal. David had the right idea with _Misery_; we can be _fun_ and impromptu and a _team_ and still create amazing numbers, but for some reason that's a side we hide on stage. The Warblers has to be one of the craziest bunches of people on earth, but none of that energy and enthusiasm and relaxation and camaraderie is shown in competition! We're robots, almost as bad as Vocal Adrenaline."

"We still have a little time to change that," Kurt said, gesturing to the sheet music between them.

"Let's get started!" Blaine said with a grin, turning to face Kurt as the countertenor did the same to him and… "I… um…" The tenor started to stutter, and why was _Blaine_ the nervous one? Kurt's heart was pounding out his chest and his palms were sweating because they were so close he could feel Blaine's breath on his mouth, but the tenor was never like this. "I…" Blaine cleared his throat and moved a little to the side, picking up the sheet music instead of having a proper human reaction and kissing Kurt. "Shall we?"

"I didn't mean right now, and I didn't really mean 'we,'" Kurt corrected him, still trying to get his breath back. "I meant _you_, by talking some sense into the council. They don't have the faith in me they do in you."

"Well, they should," Blaine muttered, looking down at the sheet music instead of turning back towards Kurt. That had already been proven dangerous. "You have the best competition record of all of us."

"That's not really what matters here, is it?"

Blaine sighed instead of answering, pulling the sheets onto his lap and skimming through them, ignoring the parts Wes had highlighted for Kurt. "At least we're doing more than one song." Kurt nodded, the only way a show choir could get away with one song was _Bohemian Rhapsody_. "And since our theme is P!nk, these songs really aren't too bad." Kurt nodded again, though he wasn't a big fan of the songs Wes had chosen. The Head Warbler wanted to open and close with popular crowd-pleasers and get a deeper song in the middle, but the countertenor wasn't a big fan of that model. Three songs from one artist wasn't the best set list (the New Directions had proven that quite well), it sounded too repetitious, and… well, Blaine was singing all of it, which would only make the redundancy effect worse. "Want to practice with me?"

"As talented as I am, I don't think I can do the entire a cappella backup by myself," Kurt said, confused as to Blaine's request.

"I mean karaoke style." Blaine flipped through _Get the Party Started_ and went straight to _Crystal Ball_. "Sing with me," he said, which made it both more clear _and_ more convincing, and Kurt didn't think to say 'no' before Blaine started singing.

**Drinking wine and thinking bliss is on the other side of this  
><strong>**I just need a compass and a willing accomplice  
><strong>**All my doubts that fill my head cascading up and down again  
><strong>_**Up and down and round again, down and up and down again**_

Kurt joined in at Blaine's pleading expression, having to steal the sheet music from his best friend in order to remember the words. He had learned his part dutifully, but he wasn't familiar with the song in general. He wasn't a huge P!nk fan, unlike Blaine.

_Oh, I've had my chances and I've taken them all  
><em>_Just to end up right back here on the floor  
><em>_**To end up right back here on the floor**_

_**Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel  
><strong>__**Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell  
><strong>__**But I'm not scared at all…**__ hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm_

Blaine chuckled a bit on the line about hell, which was childish and inappropriate and really, absolutely, terribly funny. Kurt was starting to rethink the set list a little, Blaine definitely seemed to be putting his heart and soul into this song, and he sounded good doing it, as always.

_The cracks in the crystal, __**the cracks in the crystal ball**_

_Sometimes you think everything is wrapped inside a diamond ring  
><em>_**Love just needs a witness and a little forgiveness  
><strong>_**And a halo of patience and a less sporadic pace and  
><strong>_I'm learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes_

Blaine smiled at Kurt on that line, a heart-wrenchingly beautiful smile, the kind that made Kurt choke a little bit on his own saliva and be glad it was time for Blaine to sing. Sometimes organizing a duet required planning, especially for something that wasn't originally a duet, but Kurt and Blaine had sung together so many times, when to sing and when to stop was practically second nature.

**Oh, I've felt that fire and I've been burned  
><strong>**But I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned  
><strong>_**I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned**_

Blaine looked very serious about the lyrics as he sang, and Kurt tried not to dwell too much about what the song meant. It varied, to different people, and he tended to think of it as a bitter song, but he knew Blaine was optimistic. Blaine would take the other route, about not being scared of what was uncertain in life, about new romance, about taking chances…

_**Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel  
><strong>__**Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell  
><strong>__**But I'm not scared at all…**__ hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm  
><em>

_Of the cracks in the crystal, __**the cracks in the crystal ball**_

_Irony_, **irony**_,_ _this hate and love_, **hate and love  
><strong>_What it does to me_, **what it's done to me  
><strong>_**What is done, done…**_

Once again, Kurt was unnerved. Usually he was the one to choke up when they turned to look at each other, the lines of the bridge hitting really hard in a very unfortunate way, but this time it was Blaine, who quickly turned away and left Kurt to start the next chorus by himself.

_Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel  
><em>_**Broken mirrors and a black cat's cold stare  
><strong>__**Walk under ladders on my way to hell, I'll meet you there**_

Kurt was glad he'd looked back down, because P!nk wasn't quite the stereotypical pop, and the refrain _did_ change at the end of the song, building up her point and reflecting the mood best by the calm ending. Still, Blaine was looking at him like some heavy thoughts were running through his head, and it was hard to focus on any lyrics, even ones right in front of him, when Blaine was looking at him like that.

**But I'm not scared at all  
><strong>_**Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm  
><strong>__No, I'm not scared at all  
><em>'_Bout the cracks in the crystal,__** the cracks in the crystal ball**_

There was no dramatic fade away, just the decrescendo of their voices until the room was silent. Kurt had no idea what to say, so he was glad when Blaine spoke first. "That was… amazing." Kurt nodded, apparently rendered mute by the awed and contemplative look in Blaine's eyes as they sang together. "Too bad we can't sound like that at Regionals," he said, once again looking contemplative.

Kurt almost asked, but he decided not to at the last moment. "Just don't start any more riots, okay?" he asked of his best friend, who smiled.

"I won't." Unexpectedly, Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "I certainly won't," he said, sounding unreasonably excited. "Though I should get to rehearsal." Suddenly, the countertenor was jerked back into reality as Blaine quickly checked the clock. "I'm going to be late, and Wes is going to skin me. He doesn't expect you to be there, of course, since you had a 'sick day.'" The quotes were obvious in Blaine's voice, but he was smiling. "Relax. I'm sure after so long at Dalton, you really need to." Blaine was off in a flash, and Kurt put away the stupid sheet music. Apparently music was just out to torture him.

* * *

><p>Kurt manned up and went to classes the next day, and besides a few jokes about his 'sick day' not dissimilar to the one Blaine had made the afternoon before, no one said anything to him about skipping out on classes, or anything about Pavarotti beyond a few sincere condolences. The countertenor was somewhat surprised, until he realized that this was <em>Dalton<em>, not McKinley, and of _course_ everyone at the school was absolutely wonderful.

"I'm sorry about Hedwig," Charlie said in a fairly mournful voice as he kicked the back of Kurt's ankle in the lunch line. Thankfully, his hair was easy to spot in a school that required, by the uniform code, 'natural colored hair,' and Kurt had been expecting him.

"That joke would work better on Blaine," Kurt said as Charlie's arms wrapped about his waist from behind, used to his crazy friend's odd attempts at sentimentality.

"I'm sorry about your bird," Charlie murmured, clinging to him.

"And you're using this as an excuse to grope him?" David asked from behind them, but no comment on earth was likely to make the crazy Warbler clinging to Kurt let go.

"Have to take any chance I get," was the crazy boy's response as he still refused to let the countertenor go. "Eventually Blaine will get his head out of his ass, or I'll be forced to chop it off."

"You're so pleasant in the mornings, Charlie," Wes said calmly, but his eyes were on Kurt.

"Don't even think about it," David said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"I wasn't," Wes said innocently.

"I'm confused!" Charlie announced, and Kurt definitely agreed.

"My darling boyfriend is, at some inevitable point, going to try to remind you 'where your loyalties lie,' in preparation for the competition against your friends. Please ignore him, the closer we get to Regionals, the less of his mind he has left." David gave the whole speech rolling his eyes, but there was still a certain fondness in his eyes as he looked at Wes, and Kurt resisted the urge to let out a dreamy sigh. He wanted that.

Thankfully, Charlie had the oddly romantic reaction for him. "I miss Lucas," was his usual comment, only then the corners of his mouth turned down a little bit. Kurt didn't get a chance to ask before his roommate made his way into the crowd of Warblers.

"Feeling better, man?" Chris asked, and Kurt signed internally at the masculine moniker.

"Yes, I'm fine," he reassured his roommate before turning back to Wes. "And I know that I'm a Warbler now, I'm not going to tell the New Directions anything, but don't even _think_ about asking me to spy, because with Rachel in self-imposed charge, I'm not going to be hearing anything from them either." In fact, Rachel had put somewhat of an embargo on communications with Kurt, and he wouldn't be hearing from any of his friends until after Regionals, he was sure of it.

Charlie, apparently done being lost in thought, swiveled his head around pointedly. "Where's Blaine? Doesn't he consider it his job to hover around you whenever you're in some sort of vulnerable state?" Kurt almost denied the description, but in his present company, it wasn't worth it.

"He was in physics earlier," Kurt offered, because he actually wasn't sure where Blaine had run off to. The tenor was still acting oddly, but it was a warm and sweet kind of strange, so Kurt didn't mind at all.

"As long as he's at rehearsal," Wes said firmly as he cut Kurt and Charlie in line.

* * *

><p>Blaine smiled to himself, pacing around the library instead of going to lunch. He knew Kurt was in there, eating and laughing with the Warblers, and he was more than welcome to go along, because for once he was okay with the tension between them. It was a good kind of tension.<p>

He wasn't an idiot, though that was probably the impression he had given Kurt over the last few months. He knew that if he had chosen to, he could have kissed the countertenor the day before, before they sang or after, and they could have had a wonderful, sweet, moving conversation, but that wasn't how he wanted it to go. Kurt deserved more than that.

Kurt deserved to understand first. Deserved to know why it had taken so long, and what had changed. Deserved to know that suddenly Blaine couldn't stop thinking about him, even though it was ridiculous he hadn't recognized his fixation on his friend for so long… or rather, he had, and he was too afraid to put it into words. Either way, Kurt deserved to know, and had the right to stop Blaine before anything happened. If he did, the tenor couldn't exactly blame him, he had been terrible to Kurt, and he didn't deserve the countertenor. If he was lucky, if he was very, _very_ lucky, Kurt would look up at him with those big eyes and smile, teeth showing, completely unguarded, that look in his eyes that Blaine _knew_ was affection and admiration and… maybe even love. And then he would do what he should have done months ago.

Well, maybe not months ago. Kurt had been fragile when he first arrived at Dalton, frightened and vulnerable and in need of someone to protect him and mentor him and understand him. And Blaine had been all of those things, had been more than willing to be the rock that Kurt leaned on. Of course he had been aware of the way the countertenor had looked at him, but it wasn't the right time. Even during Christmas, watching his favorite movie cuddled up on the couch with hot chocolate, the kind of romantic moment they both would have remembered forever, the kind of moment Kurt deserved to have, wasn't the right time. Kurt hadn't been able to say Karofsky's name without stuttering.

Then, of course, there was Valentine's Day, the time Kurt had made it very clear, in words, that he thought of Blaine as more than a friend. Blaine wasn't an _idiot_, of course he knew how gorgeous and special his friend was, and Dalton had helped Kurt grow into a more confident person, but he had meant what he had said, so many weeks ago. He didn't know how to be the romantic that he knew Kurt built him up to be in his head, he didn't know how to be Kurt's first boyfriend and the person who taught him everything about relationships (at least, the good things. He had seen enough of the New Directions to know all the bad bits).

Then there had been Marcus, and that disaster, and their little moment in the closet, where Blaine made it very clear that Kurt's feelings were returned, as much as possible. And Marcus had left, but things had fallen apart again (_twice_). Things _always_ fell apart, and what Blaine told Kurt once, after that incident in The Lima Bean with Rachel, had been true, at least what he thought to be true at the time: they were too good at hurting each other. What he hadn't realized is that was true for _any two people_ who were as close as he was. It was the reason break-ups and divorces got so nasty, it was the reason best friends feuded, because hurtful words were always exchanged and weaknesses always dragged out into the light. But it was easier to make all of those terrible moments go away when apologies were made, when the feuding parties realized what they meant to each other.

And that was exactly what Blaine had realized. Exactly what Kurt meant to him, and it was far beyond mentorship or friendship or even affection. Sitting there, watching his shy best friend pour his heart out to over twenty people, heart clenching because he felt Kurt's pain like it was his own, everything had started to make sense. They were a couple already. They spent all of their time together, were totally committed to each other, and their moods affected each other. Tenseness in their relationship was always mutual; when Kurt was miserable, Blaine was miserable… but at the same time, when Kurt was happy, smiling brilliantly and over the moon, Blaine felt like he could fly.

Kurt was the most amazing person he had ever met: witty, intelligent, kind, beautiful… and Blaine had been right: whoever he chose to be with would be the luckiest man on earth. It was only when he had realized how much Kurt meant to him, that he had never cared about anyone else so much before he met the countertenor, that he realized he was more than ready to be that man, if Kurt was willing to let him. He wanted to be with Kurt, to be the person making him happy, to be the one he came to for consolation, to be the person that got to hold him and kiss him and make him smile. And yes, he was already some of those things, but he and Kurt had been in limbo between best friends and boyfriends for too long, and it was killing both of them.

The big question was how? How, how, how? How did he explain to Kurt everything that had been going on in his head? How did he make Kurt understand how much _Blackbird_ had meant to him? How did he make Kurt realize how much he wanted to be the person making him smile?

Of course, the other big question was when? Before Regionals, so no high or low from the competition could affect what had happened, or make Kurt think that he was only saying those things out of misery/excitement? After Regionals, so it wasn't a distraction from the competition? At Regionals-No, that was definitely a bad idea. He wanted it to be a moment Kurt would remember forever, but he also didn't want to try and manufacture romance. He had a feeling he would not be good at that.

The last thing he wanted to do was ask someone about it. Whatever happened was 100% between him and Kurt, and he knew the Warblers couldn't keep a secret. Most of them would also become unbearable very quickly. And he wanted their little moment to be personal, and telling the Warblers if anything happened would be a totally different hurdle.

Blaine dreamed his way all through afternoon classes, thinking about Kurt and the moments they could have and the various possible reactions he could get from his best friend. He still couldn't decide when, but he had an idea about the how. He knew what he wanted to say, he just had to get up the courage to say it. And he definitely had to say something before he… tried anything with Kurt. He'd known that much since the first week they met.

He attempted to turn his brain back on for Warblers' rehearsal. They started out practicing their first song, _Get the Party Started_, but what the tenor was really worried about was _Crystal Ball_. The song would never sound as good with just him, and he couldn't help but remember Kurt's jealousy over _Misery_, or the look on his face as he sang a solo, even a sad one. Kurt deserved the spotlight just as much as he did.

_Get the party started  
><em>_**Get the party started right now  
><strong>__Get this party started  
><em>_**Get the party started  
><strong>__**Get the party started right now!**_

"Fantastic, Blaine," Wes said coolly as Blaine sat back down, the Warblers settling in. He sneaked a quick glance over at Kurt (he'd tried _not_ to stare at his best friend as he sang), and noticed the boredom and misery in his friend's expression. Kurt looked resigned to another miserable, Blaine-centric practice. And Blaine wasn't going to let that happen; he wanted to wipe that look off his best friend's face. "Are we agreed this can be our opening number? Thoughts?" he asked, tapping his gavel.

"You know, I think Blaine's version of the song is actually better than the original," Thad said, always a little bit of a fanboy when it came to Blaine's voice.

"But it's not in his natural key." Blaine would have admitted the key was a little difficult, he was straining a little bit at some points, but that wasn't the point he wanted to make.

"How dare you?" Trent asked, and that was it.

"Enough, I'm tired of this," Blaine admitted, glancing over at Kurt again. He couldn't get his eyes to cooperate, but he didn't want to stare creepily at his friend.

"I agree!" Thad piped up immediately. "I think we should just let you pick the song that you want to sing." Wes was gearing up to disagree, Blaine could tell, but he was going to stop Thad first. Yes, there was some validity to the idea that he knew his voice best and could pick an appropriate song, but that wasn't really the problem.

"No, I'm tired of the Warblers being all about _me_." That got Kurt's attention, and it was something he should have said a long time ago. Everyone in the Warblers had talent and value, and even thought it had taken him a while to figure it out (Kurt's bluntness helped speed up the process), there needed to be more than one spotlight. Variety would help them win. And yes, that was the point the council had been getting too all along, with experiments in sexy and dancing and impromptu numbers, but ultimately, the easiest thing to vary was soloists. And they were going to start now. "David, please make sure everything I'm about to say goes down in the official minutes." Because that little book David kept was the best way to make sure Wes' selective memory couldn't apply. "We are going to lose at Regionals." They say to always start out a good presentation with a shocking statement.

"What?" someone, probably Trent, exclaimed at first, and David gave him a shocked look. The hubbub started, Blaine catching a few more 'what's and 'no's and one 'are you serious?' but nothing could stop him now.

"I-I am incredibly grateful for the belief you've all given me as a junior member to lead you all in these wonderful songs this year, but from what Kurt has told me about New Directions, I-I just know I can't beat them on my own." Kurt looked as surprised as anyone, because even though he had pushed Blaine to talk to the council, the tenor doubted he had expected him to go through with it, especially in such a public setting. "Which is why I propose that we rearrange our eleven o' clock number and turn it into a duet." He couldn't stop looking over at Kurt, but the countertenor wasn't looking at him.

"Okay, _that-"_ Someone started to argue, but Blaine wouldn't have it.

"To showcase other talent in this group!" he had to finish his thought at a yell.

"Why don't we just play it on kazoos?" David asked sarcastically, but Wes had been uncharacteristically silent in the face of Warbler upheaval.

"Point of order! Point of order!" Blaine said above the disapproval he was getting from his fellow Warblers, trying to impose some control over the madness he had created, using the Warblers' procedures against them. "Now, we all lost one of our own this week." Now Kurt was looking at him, big eyes a stormy blue-gray, but this was a point Blaine had to make to the council, as much as he wanted to smile at the man sitting at his side. "Pavarotti's voice was silenced by death, and I-I don't wanna silence anyone else's voices in this group. I think Pavarotti would roll over in his tiny, tiny little grave." Yes, he was playing the guilt card. It would work.

"The placement of which has yet to be determined," Kurt added in quickly.

"All right," Wes said, speaking up for the first time, "a vote. Who's in favor of Warbler Blaine's proposal? For a dual lead at Regionals?" Blaine's hand was the first up, but the other Warblers followed him. Slowly.

Kurt raised his hand, of course, then leaned over and added, "Oh, can I get my name on that audition list?" he asked the council, shooting them finger guns with a wink, and Blaine resisted the urge to chuckle. Even having lost his other bid at a solo, he wouldn't ever give up, or treat the council like the scary monsters Wes, David, and Thad pretended to be at rehearsal.

The thought hadn't yet occurred to him, that the council would hold auditions. There was one talent in this group that he wanted to showcase, one who deserved to be seen and heard and valued, and he wouldn't sing with anyone else. "No," he said quickly, taking a deep breath. "No auditions. I wanna sing the duet… with Kurt." He smiled down at his friend, to make up for the moment of hesitance in admitting his true motives.

There was no upheaval this time, the silence a little unnerving. "Th-that's ridiculous," Kurt objected. "I mean, there's so many great voices. I mean, everyone deserves a shot at that honor," Kurt said quickly, looking up at him.

"All in favor of Kurt being my duet partner at Regionals?" Blaine asked, fighting the smile in his voice, because he knew the Warblers well enough to know how much they admired Kurt's unique talent (also, they wanted to win).

Every hand Blaine could see in the room raised, including Wes, David, and Thad.

He ignored David's sigh.

"Decided," Wes said with a smile, banging the gavel to make it official.

"Congratulations, Kurt," Thad said, closing his council book, which prompted a wave of applause and a few pats on the back from the people behind Kurt. Blaine clapped along, not caring that he was smiling like an idiot at the most important person in the room.

"Song decision is, of course, essential to making sure this experiment in variety is a success," Wes started, but Blaine wasn't singing a cookie-cutter pop song with Kurt. No way.

"How about we take Thad's suggestion?" Blaine asked, no longer standing but still able to snag the attention of the entire room. "I mean, Kurt and I can make almost any song sound good together," he couldn't resist smiling at his new duet partner, "but we know our voices best. We'll find something that can will be spectacular, rehearse it a little, and then we'll present it to the council for approval."

"And in this… grand plan of yours," Wes argued sarcastically (he hadn't actually said anything that suggested an argument yet, but Blaine knew it was coming), "what exactly happens if the council disapproves of your performance?"

"The council can, in the meantime," Blaine added, making things up as he went along, "come up with a list of suitable numbers. If the song Kurt and I pick is disapproved, the Warblers can vote on one of a suggested list you three come up with, and Kurt and I will still have time to practice the number chosen by the Warblers."

"I want a performance from the two of you on Thursday," Wes said firmly. That didn't leave them much time to prepare any alternatives before Regionals, but Blaine didn't care, because he knew that whatever they chose for a performance was going to blow the council away.

"Deal," Blaine said happily.

"This affects our performance structure entirely!" David said, more panicking than objecting. "You suggested we switch our eleven o'clock number to a duet, which is fine, but are we still planning to do three other songs?"

"Of course, David," Wes said, and Blaine was going to have to steal the council's spotlight a little.

"Actually, I was thinking that we could reduce our song list to two songs," Blaine suggested casually, ignoring the uproar that followed. "Warblers, Warblers, point of order!" he said for the third time during the meeting. "The New Directions proved that two songs is a perfectly acceptable number during Sectionals. Additionally, the idea of variety will work much better if Kurt and I are one of two performing parties. If we chose three songs, I would have to request we chose another soloist or set of duet partners."

"Denied," Wes said firmly. "That's far too many variables for a cohesive performance."

"I agree," Blaine said smoothly. "Our original model was for all the songs to be P!nk, but since I cannot think of an appropriate P!nk song for a duet, we should probably steer away from that path."

"Singing three songs from the same artist is what lost the New Directions last Regionals," Kurt added helpfully, but when he looked up at Blaine, he was more curious than happy. The tenor reminded himself that he would tell Kurt what was going on all in good time.

"Our original model also included a more upbeat song, followed by something more emotional, and then a crowd-pleasing ending. However _Get the Party Started_ and _Raise Your Glass_ sound very similar. Instead, I suggest Kurt and I use the duet to provide a more emotional opening, as that's proven very effective in the performances of other show choirs," Wes nodded in agreement, "and we choose one of our upbeat songs to be the crowd-pleasing ending."

"Still sung by you?" Thad asked.

"If that is what the council requests," Blaine said calmly, aware of how much he was pushing the normally firm boundaries of the Warblers already.

"We do," Wes said, still sounding abnormally calm. "_Raise Your Glass_ is the more recent and obvious choice for a crowd-pleasing ending. A vote, then. All in favor of _Raise Your Glass_ over _Get the Party Started_?" Most hands raised, including Blaine's and Kurt's.

"Our finalized set list for Regionals will include an unknown duet sung by junior Warbler Kurt Hummel and Vocal Captain Blaine Anderson, and a performance of _Raise Your Glass_ by Vocal Captain Blaine Anderson," David said as he wrote exactly that down in the official minutes.

"We will practice _Raise Your Glass_ tomorrow. Both of you are expected to be at rehearsal, find other time to rehearse your duet," Wes said firmly, banging his gavel thrice. "Dismissed."

Blaine stood up immediately, wanting to approach Kurt before he escaped from rehearsal, but he found a rather immovable obstacle in front of him: Charlie, eyes blazing with something close to anger. "All right, what in the name of love is going on right now, Blaine Devon Anderson?" he demanded firmly, and he _sounded_ angry too. "You've never been that confrontational with the council, and now you're all 'I have to sing a duet with Kurt for Regionals and nothing Wes says is going to stop me?'"

"Kurt and I sang a duet of _Crystal Ball_, just jokingly rehearsing for Regionals," Blaine explained, watching as Kurt talked with Neff by the door, doubtlessly exchanging jokes about their times through the solo auditions, "and we sounded fantastic together. We've always been good together."

"Now what the hell does that mean?" Charlie demanded.

Half-listening to his best friend, Blaine caught Kurt's eyes and smiled, noting with satisfaction that the countertenor waved to him and began to approach the two. "It means it's going to be a good week, Charlie," Blaine said, doubtlessly smiling like a lovestruck idiot.

"Are you insane?" Kurt demanded as he approached them, but he sounded unbelievably happy. "Thad and David looked about ready to throw you out of the Warblers!"

"Yes, but I wouldn't have gotten away with anything I just said if Wes wasn't thinking along the same lines," Blaine said casually, very aware that the Head Warbler had just seemed a little… _too_ calm. It had been rather disturbing.

Charlie hadn't left, he was still staring at Blaine suspiciously, but neither the tenor nor Kurt seemed to mind, too used to the crazy boy. "Coffee?" Kurt asked, and in any other situation, Blaine would have said yes, but he didn't want to jump his best friend over coffee. A plan was beginning to form, and he couldn't ruin it by jumping the gun.

"I can't," Blaine said, and ignored the fact that instead of looking disappointed, Kurt started to look as curious as Charlie. Was he really acting that strange? "But we need to plan out rehearsal time. I have a free period tomorrow after lunch."

"Blaine, I know your schedule," Kurt said with a smile. "I'll meet you in the Ablewhite building, floor two lounge."

"Perfect, that's deserted most of the time, we won't disturb anyone with our singing." Or anything else that may or may not happen during their rehearsal. The only thing Blaine needed was a song. The _perfect_ song, the kind that would make the air in the room go still and leave nothing but the two of them. "I'll see you then." Blaine took Kurt's silence as an excuse to quickly leave rehearsal, doubtlessly leaving a very curious Kurt and Charlie behind him. The last thing he needed was his crazy best friend asking questions.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You all hate me right now, I know, but this *is* a reasonably-long chapter. Plus, there are so scenes that come right after the one you're all waiting for, and I'm trying to establish a flow of sorts for this episode. So, sorry, you're going to have to wait a little bit longer for that scene. And I was feeling very songy when I was writing the front part of this chapter, but I do not apologize. Also, there will be more Charlie next chapter. He only managed to worm himself in a little bit here.**

**Songs used/mentioned****:**_**  
><strong>_'_Human_' by Christina Perri  
>'<em>Misery<em>' by Maroon 5 (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Bohemian Rhapsody<em>' by Queen (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Get the Party Started<em>' by P!nk  
>'<em>Crystal Ball<em>' by P!nk (**Bold is Blaine**, _Italics_ _is Kurt_, _**Bold Italics is Both**_)  
>'<em>Blackbird<em>' by the Beatles (in the style of _Glee_; mentioned)  
>'<em>Raise Your Glass<em>' by P!nk (in the style of _Glee_… kind of; mentioned a lot)

**Reviews are Love.**


	43. The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

Blaine didn't go to classes the next day, and the reason for it was very simple, even something his teachers would understand: Charlie. His best friend was insatiably curious, for good reason, and the crazy boy was practically stalking him during breakfast. "What are you up to, Blaine?" was the question he asked as he cut in front of several annoyed Warblers to get to Blaine. "I thought we discussed that you weren't going to do anything stupid involving Kurt."

"I'm not," Blaine said, only semi-confident. While he was absolutely convinced that talking to Kurt about the way he was feeling was the best thing to do, the nerves had struck him last night that his sudden profession may not be met entirely enthusiastically by the countertenor. Despite being a drama queen at times, he wasn't about to claim that he could lose _everything_; Kurt and he had been through a lot of romantic troubles in their friendship, and he was convinced nothing he could do would lose him Kurt's friendship. But he could lose any chance to hold his best friend the way he desperately wanted to, and those thoughts had kept him up half the night.

"I thought you were going to wait until all the other shit storms you've caused had cooled down before treating Kurt like this again." Charlie sounded unusually serious and rather like a concerned and stern parent. Blaine couldn't help but snicker a little at the change. He was traditionally in charge of trying to keep Charlie from going off the handle; it seemed they had swapped those particular roles.

"Treating Kurt like what, exactly?" Blaine asked as he poured milk for his cereal, not terribly hungry but knowing Wes would be his other problem if he stopped eating in the week before Regionals. "Like he deserves to be treated?"

"'I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, the more you beat me, I will fawn on you: use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, unworthy as I am, to follow you! What worser place can I beg in your love than to be used as you use your dog?'" Charlie asked, taking a theatrical tone.

"Not funny," Blaine said as he selected Cheerios, smiling to himself. "You sound like Chris, _and_ you missed a line." The crazy boy huffed dramatically, still following him, not having bothered to pick up a tray. "Will you relax please? I know what I'm doing."

"The evidence of the last five plus months suggests otherwise," Charlie said pointedly, grabbing Blaine a little roughly by the shoulders and spinning him around. Since his friend was practically a beanpole, the tenor could have easily knocked off his grip and walked away, but he was patient and long-suffering when it came to Charlie, so it didn't bother him as much as it would have from someone else. "Blaine. _Listen_ to me. You _know_ Kurt is fragile right now, do you really think it's the best idea to…" Charlie trailed off, unusually changeable. "Just… don't break his heart, okay?"

"I couldn't if I tried," Blaine sing-songed, still smiling to himself as Charlie released him and yielded to the requests that he went to the back of the line for his breakfast. The tenor finished grabbing things for his plate and paid, headed to the Warblers table. It was mostly empty, since first class had technically already started, and Kurt was long gone. Some of the blearier Warblers (mostly upperclassman who had avoided having an academic class first period) grumbled hellos and waved to him as he sat down, not bothering to question why he wasn't in french.

The surprising member of the table was Wes, who Blaine knew had AP European History first period. Wes' eyes had locked on him the moment he spotted Blaine, so the tenor made the slight leap that Wes was there to talk to _him_, which wasn't that odd. The Warblers were pretty much given a blank check as far as going to classes went for the week before competitions, and Regionals was especially important, so the fact that Wes was skipping for Warbler business wouldn't be considered odd. The only weird part was that he hadn't requested David or Thad to do the same. He sat alone, waiting patiently.

"Good morning," Blaine said politely as he sat down next to Wes, not dumb enough to pretend that the Head Warbler was there for any other reason than to talk to him. If he avoided Wes now, he would just have to talk to him later, and that wouldn't help his plans for the rest of the day at all.

"Thank you," Wes said quickly, not bothering with polite greetings. "For what you said at the meeting yesterday."

"I would joke that I thought you would disapprove, but considering how fast you would have shot me down if you didn't, I kind of suspected that you were okay with it," Blaine said as he took a bite, not letting Wes ruin his caloric intake. "Wasn't expecting the thank you, though."

"It's odd," Wes commented as he nibbled on a piece of Blaine's bacon he had pilfered. "Of all the grand ideas David's had to improve the Warbler's performances," Wes rolled his eyes, but his tone was affectionate, "diversifying our vocalists has never been one of them."

"I'm guessing diversifying our song list has been?" Blaine asked, now understanding why neither of the other council members were present for this little conversation.

"How do you think that horrible experiment in utilizing attraction occurred? No thanks to you for that ridiculous pilot taking off." Wes continued to nibble as he spoke and Blaine ate. "Still, I'm anxious to see what you and Kurt come up with for a number."

"And by that you mean you're terrified that our song is going to be horrible because you're not used to picking songs for a countertenor," Blaine translated casually, ignoring Wes' snort of derision at the idea. "I promise, whatever we pick will be suitable for Regionals. We both have quite a bit of show choir experience, after all."

"Which is absolutely unrelated to the reason you chose Kurt as your duet partner," Wes added quickly with his trademark casualty. "If he had joined the Warblers last week, you still would have chosen him."

"I would be offended by your accusation, but it's kind of pointless, isn't it?" Blaine said with a little chuckle. "To be fair, your hypothetical is incorrect. Kurt needs show choir like everyone else needs food. Kurt would have only joined the Warblers last week if he had arrived at Dalton last week, and I probably wouldn't feel so strongly about this if he had." He could be frank with Wes because he knew his friend wouldn't be judgmental; everyone had witnessed the disastrous end, and then beginning, and then end, and then beginning of his tumultuous relationship with David, even if they hadn't know romance fueled all their arguments at the time.

"And I'm assuming by 'this,' you don't mean a duet for a competition that we're not likely to win?" Blaine looked at Wes in shock, surprised how calm Wes sounded about the idea of the Warblers losing. "Perhaps if we had been smart enough to diversify in the beginning, perhaps if we could be more relaxed on the stage, perhaps if we had a week more to prepare," Wes said glumly, "we would be able to beat the New Directions. As it is, our performance is likely to seem a little bit erratic and unrehearsed. Of course, the fact that you and Kurt are singing a duet may be as much of a hindrance as it is a help." Blaine knew his friend well enough to follow his train of thoughts.

"In all fairness, any duets that come from Dalton Academy are going to be between two boys," Blaine argued weakly.

"Yes, but I'm assuming your duet with Kurt won't be exactly buddy-buddy."

"Wes-"

"I wouldn't ask that of you," Wes said, even though he knew Blaine wasn't about to offer. "This is too important. As I mentioned, I'm assuming it's not the duet you 'feel so strongly' about." Blaine couldn't help but blush a little at the frank look Wes was giving him. "Kurt will be pleased."

"I hope so," Blaine said before he could stop himself.

"Of course he will be," Wes said, still pretty calm. "He's been waiting for this day for a long time, even if the circumstances, and the length of the wait, are less than ideal."

"And you're okay with this?" Wes raised an eyebrow. "Not me and Kurt, I mean losing at Regionals." Blaine had already suspected that they wouldn't be quite as good as the New Directions, but Wes had given such weirdly hypnotic, semi-passionate speeches about dedication.

"To be frank, it was luck of the draw that allowed us to tie at Sectionals. Even if we win Regionals, which is a long shot, we won't place at Nationals, and I think that will be more of a disappointment for the Warblers than losing to the New Directions would be. Say what you want about them and their diversity and their interconnected personal lives, they make a fantastic team, and I think at this point, all the Warblers have great respect for them. Losing to them isn't dishonorable."

"There are some fantastically racist Asian jokes about honor I am resisting the urge to make, just so you know." Wes snorted, shoving him with an elbow.

"Try to act like an adult for once, won't you?"

"Try to relax," Blaine retorted, nudging Wes in return. "David must be pretty happy with you, and the whole 'diversifying our performance' thing." The tenor couldn't think of any way to make the act of relaxing on stage sound more formal, which of course explained why Wes used that phrase.

"He's a little… tense about having to come up with alternative duets for you and Kurt, but he definitely thinks it's a good change, yes." Wes' grin was a clear indicator of exactly how happy his boyfriend had been.

"If you weren't Asian, you would be blushing right about now, and I am extremely jealous," Blaine commented, and Wes rolled his eyes.

"What happened to no racist jokes?"

"I said no racist jokes about _honor_," Blaine reminded him.

"Have you thought about what you're going to sing with Kurt?" Wes asked, trying to keep up his casual demeanor, but revealing David wasn't the only one nervous one about their duet.

"Nope," Blaine answered candidly, making panic flash through Wes' eyes, "but that's what I plan to do for the rest of the day. We're meeting up later to discuss and rehearse."

Wes nodded, slightly more relaxed. "Good luck. With _everything_," he said pointedly, and Blaine grinned at his friend as he stood up to go drop off his tray. " Remember our Friday traditions," Wes called after him, and he just waved at the Head Warbler in response. He planned to spend the next four hours before he had to meet Kurt trying to find the perfect sign to melt his friend's heart.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't see Blaine in classes on Wednesday, but since he had taken a 'sick day' on Monday, he had no room to judge. Hopefully the tenor planned to keep their after lunch appointment. Wes might have an aneurysm if they didn't have anything to perform for tomorrow, and Kurt didn't want to blow his only opportunity at a competition solo.<p>

While he missed Blaine during classes, Charlie made sure to be his constant companion, and judging by the looks Charlie was occasionally sneaking his way, as well as the crazy boy's presence, Kurt was almost sure that he knew something the countertenor didn't. Still, he didn't dare ask, knowing he would never get a straight answer… or any answer at all, really.

The countertenor couldn't help but wonder what was happening. Blaine was alternating between being unreasonably (and occasionally inappropriately) cheery, unnervingly quiet, and completely avoiding Kurt altogether. Nothing had changed, and Kurt had no explanation for his friend's erratic behavior… except everyone seemed to know something that he didn't. Blaine had obviously told Charlie whatever was going through his head (which didn't surprise Kurt at all, Blaine told Charlie _everything_, having complete trust in their crazy friend), and even Wes was acting a little odd, smiling and waving at Kurt during lunch and then nudging David and mumbling something to him. David began grinning uncontrollably, and threw a wink Kurt's way.

What was happening?

Blaine hadn't beat him to the study room they planned to meet in, so Kurt settled down and pulled his latest project out of his bag. He hadn't been kidding when he'd mentioned he was looking for a place for Pavarotti's grave, and since the bird should be buried properly, he'd bought a small casket (which was probably supposed to be a coffin for a vampire to sleep in, he'd found it in the Halloween decorations section), painted it black, and planned to decorate it for his little friend. Pavarotti had been his friend and companion during his time at Dalton, he deserved the same kind of respect in death Kurt would give anyone else.

He'd set up all of his materials and was well on his way to the perfect casket by the time Blaine showed up. It was weird for him to be late. Kurt heard Blaine coming before he spoke. It was a skill that came with having a best friend who occasionally attempted to be a ninja. "What's that?" Blaine asked with a little laugh, and something about him seemed... off, as it had for the last few days. He sounded… nervous. Kurt couldn't place why though, and no one else seemed to want to clue him in.

"I'm decorating Pavarotti's casket," he answered. Blaine was the only person he knew who wouldn't silently judge him for putting so much effort into a memorial service for a pet.

"Well, finish up. I have the perfect song for our number and we should practice." That seemed kind of insensitive, but Kurt was intrigued anyway. Blaine was leaning on the table, and that was a little strange, too. He was always composed, and leaning on furniture was bad manners (something he had learned from Blaine, as a matter of fact). Blaine had no trepidation about _climbing_ on furniture, however, a thought that made Kurt both happy and annoyed.

"Do tell," Kurt said with a little smile.

"_Candles_ by Hey Monday." Well, that was far from expected.

"I'm impressed. You're usually so Top 40." Actually, he was _always_ Top 40, but that just sounded rude, especially since Blaine had so nicely announced to the Warblers that they were singing together and there was nothing the council could do about it.

"Well, I just... wanted something a little more emotional," Blaine explained in an offhanded tone of voice as he sat down next to Kurt. That right there was one of the most frustrating things about Blaine. From anyone else, it would be flirting, but from Blaine, it was just _Blaine_. Then Blaine sat down, and Kurt had to wonder what was going on in the boy's head. Something was definitely... not wrong, but different, and the countertenor silently hoped he would get some answer as to Blaine's strange behavior as of late.

"Why did you pick me to sing that song with?" The question had been bothering him since the meeting. Why him? There were so many talented Warblers, but Blaine had _insisted_ it be him. Yes, he knew they sounded good together, and maybe it was _Crystal Ball_ that had given Blaine the idea, but usually the Warblers at least _pretended_ to have auditions. His need to know the answer intensified when Blaine wanted their duet to be emotional, because… well… Perhaps it was pathetic, but he was ever hopeful.

"Kurt, there is a moment... when you say to yourself 'oh, there you are... I've been looking for you forever,'" Blaine shifted awkwardly and put his hand on Kurt's. The action in itself wasn't that odd, Blaine had been doing that since the day they met, but coupled with the words... a little fluttering sensation was starting in Kurt's heart and he was doing his best to stomp it down. Blaine could mean anything. "Watching you... do _Blackbird_ this week, that was a moment for me... about you." Kurt had rarely seen Blaine searching for words, and those damn little flutters were practically exploding now. "You move me, Kurt, and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you." Now, that didn't make sense, and if Blaine had been in his right mind, he would know that. They spent all the time in the world together, and no one seemed to care. Could he mean... time alone? Then again, Kurt wasn't in his right mind at the moment either, so he really didn't have room to judge.

And Blaine leaned forward, slowly, _painfully_ slowly, giving Kurt time to say 'no,' but why would Kurt want to do that? Then they were kissing and oh, wow. Fireworks. Kurt's brain cheered, exploded, and melted all at once. All he could register was the feeling of Blaine's mouth on his. _This_ was his first kiss, the one that was perfect and magical and all that ridiculously gay crap. It took Kurt a few moments to register that he was supposed to be kissing back.

Kurt shuddered slightly, a wave of heat running through him, then brought a hand up to cup Blaine's cheek, deepening the kiss and... wow. Blaine broke away too soon, _far_ too soon, and Kurt probably looked shell-shocked, but he kind of _was_. After all this time, Blaine finally made a move.

Blaine released a happy breath. How a breath could be happy, Kurt didn't know, but Blaine managed it. Both were all smiles. Resting his hand against first his face, then where Kurt's hand had been, then his neck, he said, "We should... we should practice."

The most ridiculous statement popped into Kurt's head and out his mouth with no intermediate stop to check with his filter. "I thought we were."

Both boys lunged in for another kiss at the same time, Kurt's hand returning to Blaine's cheek. The other kiss had been gentle and loving, a way to convey feelings. This one was completely passion and... wow. Everything Kurt had dreamed about for months fell perfectly into place. Blaine deepened the kiss, their tongues entwining, so good, so _amazing_ despite the awkward angle.

One of Blaine's hands slid up under his blazer and shirt, pressing against his bare back and pulling him closer, radiating heat. The other wrapped around his neck, keeping him as close as possible. Kurt's other hand fluttered around aimlessly before ending up on Blaine's waist, clutching at the muscular curve.

"We should stop," Blaine murmured, pulling away, and Kurt knew it was a good idea, even if he didn't necessarily want to. Now they were both panting and wow... it was like setting fire to gasoline, the two of them. He pulled Kurt in for one more sweet, gentle kiss, already addicted to his soft lips.

Kurt rested his head against Blaine's. "Well, Rachel got one thing right," he whispered, and he was sure that was possibly the last thing Blaine expected to come out of his mouth.

"What?" he whispered back. Clearly, they were on the same page; it seemed like if they were too loud it would ruin the stillness and peace of the moment.

"You... are an _amazing_ kisser," Kurt whispered with a slight laugh. Blaine kissed him again, slowly and softly, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of Kurt's mouth. "We," kiss, "should," kiss, "we really should," kiss, "rehearse," Kurt gasped out between kisses.

"I thought we were," Blaine breathed against his lips, mimicking him.

"Not going to work twice, Mr. Anderson." It took all of Kurt's will power to pull away from the tenor. Blaine cleared his throat a little as he pulled his hand out of Kurt's clothes and let both drop onto his lap, settling back into his own chair from where they'd been suspended in mid-air trying to get close to each other.

Kurt took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he surprised Blaine by leaning forward and pecking him lightly on the lips. Blaine raised an eyebrow instead of asking, and he smiled. "Just wanted to make sure it was real." The tenor chuckled, but his eyes were warm… always so warm and easy to get lost in… gold, amber, hazel, caramel…

This time is was _Kurt_ who had to clear his throat and sit back down. He couldn't even process all the emotions going through him: happiness and disbelief and affection and… maybe a little bit of anger? But didn't he deserve to feel that way, after all this time? Blaine had treated him so… He couldn't just walk in there and kiss Kurt! But he had, and Kurt had _let_ him because Kurt had _wanted_ him to… Oh, boy. "You know we need to talk right?" Kurt asked, glad Blaine had been silent while he let the countertenor process.

"Of course," Blaine said quickly, giving him a smile that made his heart flutter. "We have… _so_ much to talk about." Blaine swallowed, paused, and looked at Kurt like he would rather like to kiss him again. The countertenor wasn't sure he had the willpower to stop him. "But, right now, we really should practice. I think Wes will skin us both if we don't have a number prepared, even though…" Then Blaine blushed a little and trailed off.

"You told Wes about… this?" Kurt asked, not sure what 'this' was.

"He guessed," Blaine explained quickly. "I guess the Warbler meeting kind of made it clear to him that I finally woke up about my feelings." Kurt was afraid his heart was trying to escape his chest, it was pounding so hard.

"And he told David… not that long before Thad will find out… Does anyone else know?" He tried to contain a little hint of annoyance that other people had known before him.

"I think Charlie made the same intuitive leap Wes did," Blaine admitted a little sheepishly, "but I didn't _tell_ anyone! I wanted this to be… between us." He was so cute when he smiled like that, the annoyance about Wes and David and Charlie dissipating.

"And what is… _this_?" Kurt asked, knowing this was getting a little too close to the talk they needed to have, but he needed to know.

Blaine seemed thrown, for a moment, then he swallowed and placed his hand over Kurt's again. "_This_ is me being absolutely crazy about you and being too stupid to realize that until now." Kurt smiled a little, turning his hand palm up so he could lace their fingers. "_This_ is me being unbelievably grateful that you're actually willing to give me a chance after everything that's happened between us, everything I've done to you." Kurt opened his mouth to argue that it was a two-way street, but Blaine apparently wasn't done. "_This_ is me wanting to be that lucky guy who gets the chance to be with you, to hold you and kiss you and romance you and date you and make you smile every day I can." _Now_, Blaine seemed to be finished.

"So, we're a couple?" Kurt asked. Blaine's answer was very romantic, but not very helpful or informative as an actual answer to his question.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Blaine said, scooting his chair a little closer to Kurt's, "would you do me the amazing honor… of being my boyfriend?"

Kurt chuckled, nodding. "So much for not being good at romance," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Though I was worried for a moment that you were proposing."

"The thought occurred to me, just to scare you," Blaine said with a chuckle.

"Should we tell people?" was Kurt's next question, and he was admittedly a little relieved when Blaine stared at him like he'd suddenly grown several extra limbs.

"I… why wouldn't we?" Blaine asked, and the countertenor could tell from his tone that he was feeling a little bit hurt. "Unless your plan is to slink back into the closet… which wouldn't really work for you here, by the way." Kurt smiled, shaking his head.

"Regionals," he answered honestly. "Because everyone's under stress and because we don't want to distract them and because we're competing against…." Kurt paused, and then finished the sentence a little differently than he'd originally planned, "the New Directions, which means we need to be on the top of our game."

Blaine looked at him for a moment, like he was assessing the answer, and then smiled. "Fine," he said. "If you don't want to tell the team yet, we don't have to. After Regionals?" he asked, and Kurt nodded eagerly. "Good, as long as you're not ashamed of me." Blaine was teasing, so the countertenor rolled his eyes, ignoring his boyfriend, and was thus thrown off guard, again, when he suddenly felt Blaine's lips on his, sealing the deal with a kiss.

Kurt leaned into the kiss a little, and he felt Blaine smile against his lips as the tenor pulled away. "Now we _really_ need to practice," Blaine said with a little laugh, glancing up at the clock. "I mean, I've blown off all my classes thus far today, and I'm fine with missing a few more, but you shouldn't follow in your boyfriend's footsteps, he's clearly a bad influence."

Kurt laughed, more stuck on the fact that Blaine was his _boyfriend_ than really worrying about whether he missed a class. He could always tell his teacher that he was rehearsing for the Warblers, and there would be no punishment. The Warblers were truly rock stars, and Kurt had grown comfortable enough to take advantage. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"As long as it never gets back to your father that I've turned you into a delinquent," Blaine said, smiling and squeezing Kurt's hand.

"Why this song? Emotional as it may be, isn't it kind of… a depressing break-up song?"

Blaine looked a little sheepish at the question. "I may have let my nerves get the best of me while I was picking a song," he admitted. "I mean, we'll still sound fantastic singing it, right? And I can definitely connect to seeing the light after some dark times." Kurt's heart was going to break ribs if it kept jumping like that.

"Nerves?" Kurt asked, kind of not believing that Blaine would consider the possibility of Kurt rejecting his advances, even though… well, the countertenor supposed he would have had every right, if he had chosen to. They _really_ needed to talk. And rehearse.

"Of course, nerves," Blaine said with another little nervous chuckle. "That's kind of what happens when you ask someone who's totally out of your league out."

"I'm not-" Kurt began, but Blaine had clearly prepared for the objection.

"Reacher, settler," he said, pointing to himself and Kurt in turn. "And I'm fine with that." Kurt sighed, but smiled, knowing this was an argument he wouldn't win. "Now! _Candles_?"

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "Are we going to try to do something fancy with the arrangement or are we just going to sing it like any other duet?"

Blaine smiled like he was proud of what he was about to say, an expression Kurt was sure he would become _very_ familiar with as his boyfriend tried to be romantic. "I don't think you realize how amazing our duets already are." Okay, he had the right to the expression; that was adorable. "I think we should try it plainer, for now, and if Wes wants to do something complicated with the arrangement, we can always gussy up our parts later."

"I can't believe you just used the phrase 'gussy up,'" Kurt said with a giggle.

"Shut up, you think I'm cute," Blaine said, smiling in return. "Want to just sing it through and then go back over for any rough spots?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

><p>Blaine rushed into Charlie's dorm and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning up against it and trying not to gasp for breath. He had run all the way to Stevenson from the Ablewhite building. "Charlie, I have to tell you something and you have to swear on Lucas' life that you won't tell anyone else."<p>

"You're secretly a girl and that's the reason you haven't boinked Kurt yet," Charlie guessed.

"Weak," Blaine replied with a roll of his eyes. First of all, Charlie knew that wasn't true, and second, that was not something he would be embarrassed about. Well, he _would_ have to hide it... Anyway, nothing could ruin his good mood.

"It was, wasn't it?" Charlie said, pursing his lips in disdain at himself. "I couldn't come up with anything better in the short amount of time I guessed I had between when you requested secrecy and when you started spilling your guts." Charlie stood. "What's up? And why, I must ask, are you threatening Lucas' life?"

"Regarding the latter," Blaine began, trying to get his breath under control, "I'm not threatening his life, I just needed something for you to swear on, and I wouldn't make you swear on your _own_ life since you have no instinct for self-preservation."

"This is true."

"Regarding the former," Blaine took another deep breath, "Kurt and I are dating."

Watching Charlie's reaction reminded Blaine of the Supernatural episode where everything had turned briefly into a cartoon caricature of real life. Charlie's eyes became perfect saucers, his jaw nearly hit the floor, and Blaine could swear he was hearing sound effects in the background. Charlie slumped back in his chair, and for a split second, Blaine was afraid he was horrified. Then he smiled. "Wow."

"Yeah." There really were no other words.

"I mean, _wow_."

"_Yeah_."

"I knew you were going to, but… _wow_. What happened?"

"I... Charlie, I've been so stupid!" Blaine exclaimed, because he hadn't been this happy in a long time, and it was all because of Kurt. The casual way they could sing and flirt and _kiss_ and… _wow_. "He's the most amazing person I've ever met, the most gorgeous man on the planet, and I am so completely head-over-heels for him." Blaine couldn't stop smiling. His face actually hurt from smiling, but he couldn't stop. He hadn't stopped smiling for at least four days.

"So, basically," Charlie said coolly, clearly having regained his composure, "you're now telling _me _what I've been telling _you _for the past... five or six months?"

"Basically," Blaine said, ignoring the sass. Even Charlie couldn't ruin his good mood. "I just... he was singing _Blackbird_ and he was _so_ stunning, and... wow." Blaine slumped down to the ground, still resting against the door. "He's amazing."

"So, how _exactly_ did this happen?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow. "Spare no detail."

"You make everything sound so dirty."

"Something that's very hard, I assure you." Charlie winked.

"I just… I told him how I was feeling during _Blackbird_, and then I kissed him," Charlie let out a wolf whistle that Blaine ignored, "and he kissed me back, and then there was some chatting and a little more kissing," Blaine could feel his face heating up, just a little bit; the second kiss had been... something, "and then we practiced and now I'm here. God, he's _amazing_!" Blaine didn't mention the conversations they'd had and the conversation they planned to have. Charlie wouldn't be interested in that.

"Well, I'm glad you _finally _did something right." Since Charlie had been making a big deal about his feelings for Kurt from the start (and _God_, why hadn't he listened?), Blaine wasn't surprised by the emphasis on finally. However, something about his tone was bothering him.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Charlie said with a shrug. "I just kind of got the feeling he was ready to give up on you." Once again, Blaine's life became a caricature, and someone dropped an anvil on his head. And possibly a ton of bricks after that. Blaine sunk to the ground, still leaning on the door.

"_What_?"

"Woah, there, calm down," Charlie said, hopping off the bed and coming to sit across from Blaine on the floor. "Take a deep breath, don't pass out." Charlie, odd as always, smiled. "You're almost as white as Kurt." Blaine didn't find that funny. "Surely you knew this, I as much as told you last week." Blaine couldn't answer, yet, he was still trapped in the implications. Yes, he had done some horrible things to his best friend, and maybe he deserved to be rejected and kicked aside for someone smarter and more romantic, but he couldn't imagine what would have happened if Kurt had said 'no,' if Kurt had given up on him. Know that he knew what it was like to be with Kurt, for both of them to be happy and filled with requited feelings and smiles… he didn't want to imagine any other scenario.

"I… I… Kurt…"

"Well, it's not like you can blame him," Charlie said with a shrug. "Think about everything that's happened between you two. From Jeremiah to Marcus to Rachel... it's amazing he held onto his feelings for this long." Blaine's heart was hammering in his ears. Yes, Kurt had mentioned something about getting over him, and he'd said that… Oh, God, what had he done? He couldn't even imagine how miserable he would be if Kurt ever gave up on him, not now, not in the future.

"I..." Charlie looked over at him, and his eyes widened a little bit.

"Breathe, Blaine." Charlie slid over. "Calm down, I'm not trying to scare you. Kurt cares about you and probably loves you and is one hundred percent yours, despite all of your idiocy. Breathe." Blaine looked up into Charlie's green eyes, and the one hundred pound weight was slowly eased off his chest.

"You know, I can _almost_ see what Lucas sees in you. Almost."

"Shut up," Charlie said with a grin, sliding out of Blaine's personal space. "I would say you shouldn't be flirting with me now that you're with Kurt, but if he was bothered by your flirtiness, he would have run for the hills a long time ago. So, I'll stick with the fact that you don't get to tease me for having a boyfriend now that you do, too."

"Yes, I do. I'm fine with being a hypocrite."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Slut."

"You wish."

Charlie's eyes softened just a little. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Blaine finally stood up. "I just... I can't believe it finally happened."

"Me neither," Charlie said, and Blaine knew him well enough to know that he was half-kidding, half-being-brutally-honest. "So why, may I ask, can I not tell anyone about this conversation? I mean, the almost-fainting part I would understand-"

"I did _not_ almost faint-"

"But why don't you want anyone to know about you and Kurt?" Charlie sounded concerned. He really had changed.

"I do. Believe me, I do. I want to scream it from the rooftops and all that sappy shit," Charlie snorted, "but Kurt wants to wait until after the competition."

"May I ask, once again, why?"

"He says it's because he doesn't want to distract the team," Blaine sighed; he and Kurt already had a little roadblock, "but I think it's really because he doesn't know how to tell the New Directions."

"Elaborate."

"They've been pushing him to come back lately… well, _always_, saying that the bullies can be taken care of, that Karofsky's under the watchful eye of Sue Sylvester, and that they need him. I think this news will be the final confirmation for them that Kurt's not going back. It might not be because of me, but he's not going back. He's settled into life here, he's a Warbler now, and he's happy. And I think he wants to wait until after the competition, because after Regionals, win or lose, it's over. Kurt's decision is Kurt's decision no matter the outcome, but I think he doesn't want the New Directions to think that he's choosing this, choosing Dalton, because of me and our relationship, especially when we're going head-to-head in less than a week."

"Heavy stuff," Charlie said with a sigh. "Won't they be happy for him?"

"Of course. I think he's just afraid, and even though it's _killing_ me, I'll wait. He's waited for six months, I can wait until Saturday." Hopefully, he really could. If he blew the secret, Kurt would probably throttle him.

"He couldn't at least tell the Warblers?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Number one, that would invalidate his white lie to me. Number two, it really _would_ distract them, they would be too busy planning to embarrass us to properly prepare for Regionals. Number three, the two teams have been competing against one another for so long now that they've become wildly intertwined. I bet Wes is texting Santana about David as we speak." That friendship in particular had surprised Blaine.

"Still. Sucks."

"Yeah."

"Does he know you're telling me?"

"I think by now, he knows me well enough to know that I tell you everything."

"True." A pause. "We're ridiculous saps with boyfriends now, aren't we?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't get to talk to his <em>boyfriend<em> again that day, Kurt insisting on going to classes after their little meeting. Then they had Warbler's practice, and they spent the whole time on _Raise Your Glass_, Kurt sitting with the accompaniment and feeling a million miles away. Then Kurt got stuck between Michael and Jeff at dinner before he could even think to save Blaine a seat. Still, Blaine wasn't that bitter… he just had to avoid staring lovingly at his new boyfriend across the table for an entire meal, a hard feat. Then Kurt retreated to his room to do homework (always the responsible one) and probably avoid eye contact with Chris (who was far too good at finding out his roommate's secrets… and also hated Blaine. That they could deal with later). So Blaine did the same, not that his workload was much (teachers knew Regionals was coming up and they'd also just had midterms and were getting back into the swing of things).

So Blaine was responsible and did all of his homework and even got ahead in his classes. Since the proposal he and Kurt had to make to the Warblers was tomorrow, he even did the responsible thing and went to bed early, at around 9:30, glad he didn't have a roommate to make fun of him for being such a goody-two shoes.

Blaine couldn't sleep. He had no idea what time it is, but it had been hours since he laid down. He was staring at the boring ceiling in his dorm room, and he was almost regretting the decision to avoid another roommate. Someone else's steady breathing to calm his nerves would have been nice right about then. If only Dalton didn't have that stupid rule about people in a committed relationship rooming together.

_From Jeremiah to Marcus to Rachel_... Charlie's words were haunting him, which may or may not have been Charlie's intention from the beginning. He was reliving every moment since he had met Kurt, every day, every minute, every second, in his head, and his stomach was churning as a result. He couldn't have been any more of a flaming asshole to Kurt... unless he had done something _really_ stupid, like acted on his feelings and then pretended it never happened. Now he really wanted to puke.

Kurt was absolutely broken when Blaine met him, nervous and tortured and broken. And in the beginning, things had been okay. Blaine really _was_ Kurt's mentor, guiding him through the rough waters at McKinley. Yes, he had been aware of Kurt's crush on him, and he was attracted to Kurt, but Kurt hadn't needed a boyfriend. Kurt had needed someone who could relate to what he was going through, someone he could be one hundred percent comfortable around.

Then, of course, Kurt had transferred to Dalton, and again, it was totally reasonable for Blaine to be Kurt's mentor. Adjusting to a new school, especially such a… _unique_ school, midterm, was difficult, and Blaine had been there to help. Kurt had been split between the two worlds through November and Christmas, trying to live in Lima _and_ at Dalton.

Christmas had changed everything. Kurt had chosen the world he wanted to live in (Dalton, which was really the only viable option at that point), and in a way, he had said his goodbyes to the New Directions. Christmas was the first time Blaine was really seeing the true Kurt, radiantly happy and blissfully relaxed. That was the Kurt that Blaine was so crazy about now; why couldn't he have seen it then?

Well, that's a lie. Blaine was even lying to himself at that point. He could see Kurt for all his stunning beauty and mostly-fixed psyche at that point, but he was still convinced that he didn't have feelings for Kurt beyond basic attraction (which could happen with anyone, right? _Wrong_), and that he was only Kurt's mentor. Then there was Jeremiah, and Kurt still had one foot firmly lodged with the New Directions, and things were mostly okay.

Valentine's Day that year had been one of the worst days of his life, and looking back, it wasn't even his crushing rejection from Jeremiah that had been the worst part; he'd deserved that after what he did with _When I Get You Alone_. It was the way he had rejected Kurt. Yes, he had tried to be gentle, but he knew that he had put Kurt through a lot by turning him down, probably the first time he had ever admitted having feelings from someone that could love him in return. And Blaine had blown it. He had almost killed his chances with Kurt right there. Forever. What was it that he had said to Kurt? He wasn't very good at romance? It was the stupidest excuse in the history of the world, and knowing Kurt, he had seen right through it. He had broken Kurt's heart.

Then there was Marcus, and while that was an unintentional disaster, Kurt had not only been forced to assume that Blaine was ignoring or worse _targeting_ Kurt's feelings for him, but also had believed that he had chosen to pursue someone else within a week of Kurt admitting his feelings (probably for the first time in his life to the first person he'd ever met who could return them), right in front of Kurt's face, and that he was already _sleeping with him_ to boot. Blaine couldn't have made any more mistakes that week.

And then there was Rachel, and while yes, she was beautiful and an incredibly talented singer, she was also completely out of her mind, way too focused on her songwriting, and… oh yeah, the most important part, a _girl_! Not that there was anything wrong with girls, but Blaine had known from a very young age they weren't for him. And why had he decided to make this stupid decision? Because he was lonely. Because he thought maybe girls would work out better for him than guys. Because he thought maybe if he turned out to be bisexual, life would be easier. Because he needed someone, and he was too stupid to look across the table at the Lima Bean and see the person who had been there the whole time, the person he really needed. His angel. His Kurt.

What other nightmares could Blaine have awake? Oh yes, Sexy week, as it was dubbed in the New Directions and thus dubbed at Dalton. They really had become ridiculously intertwined.

He. Had. Told. The. Sexiest. Man. On. The. Planet. That. He. Couldn't. Act. Sexy. In. Song. And. The. Words. 'Gas. Pains.' Had. Been. Used.

Really, how stupid could he be? Kurt had pulled away from him because he thought Blaine wasn't attracted to him, thought Blaine thought _him_ naïve and childish and innocent. And yes, Kurt was innocent, _incredibly_ innocent, but that only added to the allure in a way that made Blaine feel like a complete pervert. Kurt was gorgeous and sexy, and Blaine knew he would have a lifetime of convincing Kurt of that ahead because of that stupid week. Last week.

What was wrong with him?

* * *

><p>It was two fucking ante meridiem when there was a knock on Charlie's door, and hadn't people learned by now that it was always open? Really, he didn't lock his door. People were too afraid of the creative punishments he might inflict to cross him. And stealing wasn't a concern, most of the people at Dalton were richer than he was.<p>

"Charlie?" Oh crap. He knew that voice.

"It's open," he muttered into his pillow, but the dorm was quiet enough at night that Blaine could hear him, even through the door.

Charlie heard his door squeak open, a muttered swear as Blaine doubtlessly stubbed his toe, the shuffling of bare feet against dorm carpet, and then he could see a good portion of Blaine's face from where he was still half-snuggled into his pillow.

"I couldn't sleep," Blaine whispered, as if it weren't _incredibly_ obvious from his presence in Charlie's room. Charlie almost snapped at his best friend to get out, but he couldn't. Blaine looked like such a child in his pajamas (which consisted of flannel PJ pants and a Broadway t-shirt), with his hair all curly and gel-free, and there were dark circles around his eyes. He didn't smell too lovely, though.

"What _is_ that?" he murmured, and clearly, Blaine read minds.

"I threw up," Blaine said, sounding a little apologetic.

"Should I ask why?"

"Self-recrimination," Blaine replied, his tone sounding a little bitter.

Charlie groaned. "Come 'ere," he muttered, scooting over a little.

"Um." Charlie looked up at him with a glare, not bothering to ask what. "We kind of both have boyfriends-

"Loser, get in the bed or get out of my room. I'm not getting up, I'm not talking loud, and I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation. Get in or get out. Bed or GTFO." Blaine sighed, but climbed into Charlie's bed. "Now I have you right where I want you," Charlie couldn't resist saying, with an evil cackle.

"You are a _child_."

"So are you, Curly Q."

"Calm down, Doctor Seuss." Blaine sighed, relaxing a little bit. "I couldn't stop thinking about Kurt."

"Then you should smell like something other than puke."

"Can it be Serious Conversation Time please?"

"Aw, I hate SCT."

"_Charlie_."

"Sorry, I'm tired," Charlie muttered, snuggling a little closer to Blaine and resting his head on his best friend's shoulder. "Continue talking. SCT."

"All the things I did to him, either intentional or unintentional-"

"_Wanky_."

"_Charlie_!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop being Trekkie Monster now." Blaine chuckled at that, even a bit annoyed and very upset as he was.

"All the ways I _hurt_ him. I just… I can't imagine that he still feels the same way about me now as he did when we first met, and that's _all_ my fault. I was the first other gay guy he had ever met, or at least the first open one, and the first person he was interested in who could potentially return that interest, and I screwed everything up." Blaine sounded close to tears, and it was about time for Charlie to intervene.

"You're right." Charlie was so close to Blaine he could feel the shock go through him at that. "He probably doesn't feel the same way about you now as he did in November. Now he knows you, and he knows your obliviousness and your occasional idiocy, but he also knows that you automatically trust everyone, that you wear your heart on your sleeve, that you are one of the sweetest people on the planet, that you're wickedly smart in everything but math, that you're an angel and a concubine on stage, and that you can alternate seamlessly between being horrified by dirty jokes and making them. And those are but few of the things he might have learned that would make him like you _more_ rather than less. So, why don't you calm down about what's already happened that you can't change, and focus on being the best boyfriend you can possibly be? And maybe, little by little, you can make up for all of those things, things which he probably doesn't even blame you for anymore, because he's the kind of person who blames everything on himself. Maybe you should talk to him about these things, maybe you shouldn't, that's your decision. But trust me, I've been through every step of this process on both sides, and you two are perfect for each other, no matter what's been said and who's been done," Blaine rolled his eyes, but it had been SCT for _way_ too long. "Kurt really likes you and you really like Kurt. Why don't you focus on that, you _idiot_, instead of worrying about your recent habit of hopping on everything that moves and stringing him along for months?"

Blaine was silent for a long minute. "You really love the whole 'tough love' bit, don't you?"

"It's almost better than the 'crude bastard' bit that's my real personality," Charlie said, with just a touch of sarcasm. "Plus, soliloquies are the best."

"Thank you, Charlie."

"I only said what needed to be said. Anything else, you should talk to him about."

"Can I ask your opinion on one more thing before you fall asleep on my shoulder?"

"No. Moron."

* * *

><p>Charlie had a whole litany of crude jokes available for when they woke up practically on top of each other, crammed into Charlie's single bed. Blaine was able to ignore most of them (some of them were just <em>rude<em>) and departed quickly from Charlie's room. He also had to ignore the joking wolf whistles from anyone that saw him coming out of the room, because yeah, he probably wasn't the most-innocent-looking picture right then.

Blaine managed to look presentable just in time to go down to breakfast. Kurt was already down there, and since he was an absolute angel whom Blaine didn't deserve, he had gotten them both breakfast. Blaine couldn't stop himself from breaking out into what was probably a ridiculously love-struck smile when he saw Kurt. He walked right up to his secret boyfriend and gave him a huge hug, burying his face where Kurt's neck met his shoulder. "I am so sorry," he practically breathed against his boyfriend's skin, "for everything I've done to you."

"Wanky," Charlie said loudly as he passed them, and there was _no way_ he could have heard that... right?

"Blaine Anderson, is there a reason you're getting emotional at breakfast in front of a room full of people who don't know we're dating? I would really prefer it if you would get emotional in private," Kurt's tone was stern, and Blaine pulled away, because that was kind of rude, but Kurt was smiling, "because I kind of want to kiss away all your bo-bos, and I can't do it here." Blaine smiled in return, because he couldn't help it. Kurt was adorable and blushing and _innocent_ and _adorable_, and it was completely unfair how far he'd fallen in the past four days.

"Need I say it again?" Charlie said, passing them _again_, and judging by the snickering from the table, he had been passing them repeatedly with no actual destination. That jackass.

"Right," Blaine said, snapping back to his senses and pulling himself off the amazing boy the rest of the world thought was simply his 'best friend.' Everyone who knew them must think he's an idiot, since Kurt's feelings are so clear and… well, he had been an idiot. "Thank you. For getting me breakfast."

"No problem," Kurt said with a lovestruck smile, and that was a little unfair. Kurt got to treat Blaine as much like a boyfriend as he wanted to, because everyone knew the countertenor liked him, and Blaine had to pretend he was still an oblivious idiot. The only thing _Kurt_ couldn't do was kiss him on the mouth. If Blaine looked at his boyfriend with too much affection, the word that they were dating would be all over the school in a second.

Judging by the look in Kurt's eyes, both flirty and teasing, all of this had already occurred to the brilliant countertenor. "You bastard," he mumbled under his breath, making Kurt laugh. If he kissed Kurt right then and there, the countertenor would deserve it.

Or maybe those were jut his own desires making themselves knows.

Still.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is… odd. I got stuck writing the next chapter of Never Close Our Eyes, and this just… came out. In one day. Strange. It's not super long, but it is *one day's* worth of story, so… *shrug.* You're welcome. Have the scene you've all been waiting for. We're two days from Regionals and I'm super excited.**

**Also, Charlie's little mocking of the way Blaine treated Kurt is from William Shakespeare's ****A Midsummer Night's Dream**** Act 2, Scene 1, lines 188-195.**

**And as for what seem to be Blaine's contradictory thoughts in this chapter and the last, this has more to do with different perspectives on what happened throughout season 2. Because you, as readers, and I, as an author, can never truly know what Blaine was thinking (in canon), I decided to present two options, two different perspectives, leaving Blaine with the one that best suits my interests for the rest of this story. And yes, it is perfectly possible for people to have contradictory thoughts. Blaine saw the situation from one light, then something life-changing happened (Kurt), and then he was capable of seeing it from another.**

**Songs mentioned:  
><strong>'_Candles' _by Hey Monday (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>Crystal Ball' <em>by P!nk (in the style of _Glee_… kind of)  
>'<em>Blackbird<em>' by the Beatles (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>Raise Your Glass<em>' (in the style of _Glee_)  
>'<em>When I Get You Alone<em>' by Robin Thicke (in the style of _Glee_)

**Reviews are Love.**


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Glee, Friendship, Romance