It's been about a month, but I'm back! Here's a 3,000+ word fic for your troubles.
Written for Klaine AU Friday on Tumblr.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or Spiderman. Unfortunately.

Today was definitely a spaghetti day.

Blaine had come to this conclusion at around eight that morning when his roommate had woken him in a frenzy, going on and on about "some great idea" that he'd had in the shower.

Because Alex's shower-induced thoughts? Scary stuff.

This, combined with the monstrous assignment that he'd been given in his ten o'clock journalism class and the insane downpour outside, all added up to a fairly rotten day.

Also known as, a spaghetti day.

He and Alex were seated at one of the tables in NYU's Hayden Dining Hall, slowly drying out after running through the rain. Alex was munching his way through a cheeseburger as Blaine carefully spun pasta onto his fork.

Alex swallowed loudly, "Man, that journalism assignment is going to be the death of me. Not even kidding. I mean, I don't even know where to start, and..."

Blaine brought a forkful of spaghetti to his mouth as Alex's words melted into a steady buzz of background noise. He was completely distracted by a boy with a forest green scarf and perfectly styled hair who had just sat down about six tables away. In his hands were a sketchbook and a pencil pouch. Glancing around the room, he flipped it open and began furiously working, his eyebrows knit together in concentration.

"Blaine? Blaine. Dude, really?"

"Hm?" Blaine absently responded, eyes still fixated on the stranger.

He jumped slightly as a napkin struck him across the face, "Earth to Anderson!"

"Jesus, Alex!" Blaine frowned at his friend's triumphant expression, "What?"

"Why don't you just talk to him?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" Alex cocked a knowing eyebrow, "That guy you've been gawking at for the past three weeks."

"I haven't-"

Alex snorted, "Please." He took a swig from his water bottle, "Look, Blaine, I may not be the most observant guy in the world-"

"Duh."

"-but, you totally undress him with your eyes every single time you see him."

Blaine felt his ears burn, "Alex!"

"Am I right, or am I right?" Alex grinned.

Blaine groaned and put his head in his hands, looking down at his lap. Suddenly, he found an extreme interest in the stitching of his jeans.

After a few painful moments, Alex cleared his throat, "I thought so."

Blaine raised his head and rolled his eyes, "I hate you sometimes, you know that?"

"Of course you do," Alex smirked. "Now, all you have to do is walk up to him and say hello. What's the worst that could happen?"

"That's kind of a horrible question."

"Just do it."

The two glared at each other for a while before Blaine gave in. Alex was right. What was the worst that could happen?

"Fine."

He hesitantly stood up and began making his way toward the stranger's table, mentally cursing his roommate all the while. With every step, the boy's beauty became clearer, like Blaine's eyes were a camera lens slowly coming into focus. It was truly a captivating thing.

Finally, yet all too soon, Blaine found himself standing before him. His heart echoed in his head. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Come on, Blaine. Courage.

"That's really good," he eventually said, his gaze glued to the blue and red clothing sketches in the boy's notebook.

He visibly jolted, dropping his pencil and quietly gasping, "Holy-!"

He shot a quick glance to Blaine and regained his composure, "Um. Wow. Okay. Thanks."

A small smile tugged at Blaine's lips at his flushed cheeks, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

The boy replied in a rushed reassurance, "No, no. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

A snap resonated around them as he closed his sketchbook, his eyes rapidly darting between the table and Blaine. The awkward tension in the air was almost tangible.

"Can-can I help you with something, or...?"

Blaine's eyebrows shot up, "Oh! No, no, I just-I thought I'd say hello. I see you here a lot, and you're always sitting by yourself, so..."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Blaine grinned, "My name's Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt Hummel."

"Hi."

A smile spread across Kurt's face, "Hi."

Twenty-six (painful, as Alex would tell you) days later, they'd officially declared themselves boyfriends. The relationship was filled with small, fleeting glances and almost unbearably sweet moments. Blaine discovered that Kurt was a photography major with an extreme interest in fashion, and that he'd been crowned Prom Queen back in high school. Kurt learned that his boyfriend had only ever had two dreams: to perform on Broadway or to write about it. Of course, they found out much more about each other; little quirks and perfect imperfections. When they weren't in class, they were together, constantly learning, exploring.

Their three month anniversary (because, yes, they celebrated them) found them on the couch in Kurt's apartment, cuddling and hardly paying attention to whatever was on the television.

"Kurt?" Blaine's breath ghosted across his skin.

"Mm?"

"You smell good. Like strawberries and magic."

Kurt chuckled, "Strawberries and magic. Really, Blaine?"

Blaine merely nodded and snuggled closer to Kurt's body, his fingers playing lightly with the seam of Kurt's shirt. Kurt smiled and tuned back into the television, where footage of a man in a blue and red suit soaring above Manhattan traffic was lighting up the screen. A news update. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch the reporter's words.

"...photo or video evidence of the masked individual known as Spiderman..."

Blaine shifted against him in order to look, "What'cha watching?"

"Just the news. They're talking about Spiderman."

"Again?"

"Yeah," Kurt tore his eyes away from the figure on the screen and smirked, "You know, I bet my photography professor would worship the ground I walk on if I brought in some quality Spiderman shots." He glanced to Blaine when he scoffed, "What?"

"I just," Blaine paused to untangle himself from his boyfriend, readjusting so that he was leaning against some pillows, "I don't understand the fascination that everyone has with him."

"What do you mean?"

Blaine sighed, "I did a piece on him once. He's not careful in any sense, kind of reckless, actually. Everyone acts like his some kind of vigilante because he's webbed up some guys on the streets, which, okay, that's good, but I don't think he's the hero that everyone makes him out to be. He's not a trained professional, not like the police. I mean, and this is just my personal opinion, he just doesn't look like he has any idea what he's doing. But everyone is too dazed by his powers that they don't see how big of a potential threat that he holds. The whole thing seems stupid and naïve to me."

Well. That certainly wasn't the answer that he'd been expecting.

"Blaine, I ha-" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "I have no doubt that he has only good intentions. It's ridiculous to expect him to be perfect. Everyone makes mistakes."

Blaine stared at him for a moment before letting a smile spread across his face, "Okay, Hannah Montana."

"I resent that. In fact, I resent that greatly."

"I'm kidding," Blaine reassured as he inched back into his boyfriend's arms, reveling at the warmth that they held.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "You better be."

"You know I am. Now, where were we?"

"I believe," Kurt snaked a hand into Blaine's hair, "you were telling me how I smelled like strawberries and magic."

Blaine grinned, "Oh, yes, how could I forget?"

He made a move to kiss him, but was interrupted by his phone vibrating loudly in his pocket. Shooting Kurt an apologetic glance, he retrieved it and read his new text message.

"Damn it," he frowned.

"What is it?"

"Alex says that our R.A. needs to see me about something. Right this second." Blaine winced, "He's probably not even exaggerating. Terrence isn't exactly a patient guy."

Kurt nodding, having met Blaine's R.A. before, "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, tonight was just supposed to be us."

"It's fine. I'd prefer that Terrence didn't kill you in your sleep."

Blaine breathed out a laugh, "You're the best."

Kurt smiled as the boy leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips, "I know."

"I'm making this up to you, just so you know," Blaine stated as he awkwardly maneuvered off the couch. Reluctantly, he trudged toward the door and slipped on his shoes and coat. Maybe he could just say screw it and go back to curling up on the couch with his boyfriend. It sounded much more appealing than having to deal with anyone at his dorm. He had told Alex not to bother him that night, after all.

All things considered, though, it was probably best that he didn't. He did quite enjoy living.

"I'm sorry."

"Really, Blaine, it's okay," Kurt giggled. "I completely understand."

"But, Kurt, I-" His statement was cut short by the muffled sound of his ringtone. With only one swift glance at the caller ID, he answered the phone with an aggravated, "Really, Alex?"

Kurt watched him fondly as he held his phone with his shoulder, struggling to fasten the buttons on his coat. He rolled his eyes as Alex spoke into his ear, occasionally offering a quick response of "yeah" or something of the like.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be there in ten. Now, let me say goodbye to my boyfriend that I was supposed to be spending my night with."

Kurt could hear Alex's voice coming out of the receiver as Blaine sauntered over and gave him a lingering kiss. Apologies were glowing in his eyes as they broke apart. Kurt offered him a reassuring smile and gestured toward his phone.

"I said I'd be there in ten minutes. Tell Terrence to calm down," Blaine sighed into his cell, making his way back toward the door. With a wave and a mouthed "goodbye", he quietly stepped outside.

Kurt stared at the closed door for god knows how long, silently. The only noises in the room were the ones from the nightly news broadcast. They were covering the mysterious Spiderman for what had to be at least the tenth time that night. Kurt gazed blankly at the screen as the figure swung from rooftop to rooftop. The red and blue hues of his suit quickly became too much, Blaine's words running through his head in a constant loop.

...reckless...potential threat...stupid and naïve...

He groaned and threw his aching head back against the back cushion of his couch.

He was in for a long night.

There were several things that Blaine Anderson prided himself on, and one of them was his refusal to go back on his word. The night of his and Kurt's three month anniversary had gone wonderfully, until he'd been called back to his dorm for absolutely no reason at all. He'd said that he would make it up to Kurt. It wasn't just a nice thought, it had been a promise.

So, Blaine tried to make things up with him. He really did.

He'd been trying for about three weeks, now.

Blaine had come to face nearly every excuse in the book.

"I'm Skyping with the family when I get out of studio. I'm sorry."

"Sorry, Blaine, I can't tonight. I've got a lot of work to do at the studio."

"Rachel's boyfriend broke up with her, Blaine, she needs a friend with her tonight."

"I wish I could. Maybe some other time?"

Most recently, he'd only managed to get Kurt's voicemail when he called. When they saw each other in person, their meetings were brief, and, maybe this was an overreaction on Blaine's part, somewhat cold and distant. It baffled Blaine. Where had the boy that he'd been snuggling with only a few weeks ago gone? What had changed?

The breaking point had been reached when Blaine had decided to surprise Kurt while he was at his late night studio class, on their four month anniversary. He'd been armed with flowers and a teddy bear, with a romantic speech perfectly prepared and at the ready. All he had to do was find Kurt.

The task, in theory, should have been easy enough. He'd been in the building enough times to have a general idea of where he was going. All he had to do was make his way to the studio and walk in and see Kurt. Realistically, though, this was a feat not so easily to accomplish. Finding the studio had been simple enough. Sure enough, there were plenty of students working.

Kurt Hummel was not one of them, however.

A short, eccentric-looking girl named Karen had informed him that he hadn't stepped foot in the studio that entire night. He'd disappeared for the evening.

"He does that, from time to time," she had told him, while working acutely on a sketch that she would not allow him to see. "Kurt's...strange. But I assume that you knew that already."

Blaine merely offered her a half smile and thanked her for her help, quickly turning on his heel and exiting as quickly as he could. The nippy February air did nothing to cool his temper, and with every step he took, the angrier he became. He didn't understand it. His fist clenched tightly around the stems of the white and red tulips in his hand (Kurt's favorite) as he tried to focus on simply breathing in and out.

But he couldn't. Kurt had blatantly lied to him.

Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, he had shifted the teddy bear into the same hand as the bouquet of flowers and was pressing his cell phone against his ear. He needed answers. Enough was enough.

One ring. Two rings. Three. Fo-

"Hello?"

Blaine grimaced. He sounded breathless.

Kurt spoke up again, "H-Hello?"

"Hi," Blaine almost winced at how bitter his voice sounded. Almost. "Guess where I am?"

"Wh-"

"I'm in front of Tisch, holding a bouquet of red and white tulips and a really fluffy teddy bear. I thought that it would be nice and romantic if I surprised you while you were doing studio work, because it's four months today. But you weren't there, Kurt. You haven't been there all night."

The line was silent for what felt like a very long time. Kurt knew that he'd been found out.

"Blaine, I can ex-"

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"I-I beg your pardon?"

"What am I doing wrong, Kurt?"

"Blaine, baby, you're-"

"We haven't had a real conversation in almost a month, Kurt! I can't get a hold of you anymore, and when I do, you're always busy doing things that, as it turns out, you aren't really doing. You've been avoiding me. I just...I don't understand! I-"

Blaine swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat and forced himself not to cry. His next question was on the tip of his tongue, but he wished with everything in him that he wouldn't have to ask it.

"B-Blaine?"

Blaine took a shaky breath, "Where are you right now, Kurt?"

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"Blaine, I-"

"Kurt, just answer the damned question, please! Are you with anyone else right now?"

"Oh god no! No, no, no. Blaine, I'm by myself, I promise. I would never ever cheat on you."

"Then where are you?"

"I'm...um. I'm on top of a building. About twelve or so stories up."

Well, that caught him off guard.

"You're what?"

"You said you were in front of Tisch?"

Blaine blinked. "Uh, yeah. Kurt, what the hell is going on?"

"Don't move, okay? I'll be there in no more than ten minutes."

"Kurt Elijah Hummel, you tell me what's going on right now, or I swear-"

The line disconnected. Blaine stared at the phone in his hand as if it were going to self-destruct.

He didn't rule out the possibility.

There was hardly any one else out and about; just Blaine and a couple of other kids working late. He was grateful for that. The less people involved, the easier it would be in the morning to convince himself that all of this was nothing more than a strange, horrible dream.

Sure enough, eight minutes and fifty-three seconds had passed (not that Blaine was counting) between the end of the phone call and the tap on Blaine's shoulder that made him jump ten feet in the air. Defensively, painfully, whipping his body around, he found himself face to face with none other than Kurt Hummel. Blaine glared coldly at him and threw his gifts at him at hard as he could. They hit the ground with a padded "thud".

"Happy Freaking Anniversary."

Kurt bit his lip, his eyes shining with tears, and stepped toward his hopefully-still boyfriend. He had meant it as a peaceful gesture, hoping, praying, that Blaine might return it.

He didn't.

Instead, the boy started punching his torso, his previous boxing training coming to light, "I hate you so much right now!"

Kurt waited for Blaine to run out of steam before opening his mouth, "Come with me." He held out his hand, "Please?"

"Why?"

Kurt sighed. The resistance was to be expected, he told himself. He'd spent the last month or so preparing for this moment. He wasn't about to come out of it without being victorious.

"Because," Kurt glanced around the campus briefly, making sure that he didn't have an audience, "it's much easier than me having to do this."

The next thing that Blaine knew, he was being yanked by his chest, meeting Kurt's lips in an explosion of anger and apologies and an overwhelming sense of urgency. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He wasn't sure that he ever would again. His curiosity eventually got the best of him, though. He pulled away and fingered at the strange substance that was now stuck to the front of his shirt. It was strong and silvery, and seemed like some sort of elastic webbing.

Webbing.

"You've got to be kidding me," he finally said, breathless with disbelief. "You're-?"

Kurt smirked, "Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman? Yeah. Not so stupid anymore, right?"

Blaine blanched, "I-"

"Now," Kurt clapped his hands together, "if you're interested, I can take an extra passenger on my journey above the madness of Manhattan. Care to join me?"

"This doesn't change anything, just so you know. I'm still furious at you."

Kurt grinned, "I'll take that as a yes, then."

If someone were to have asked Blaine Anderson at the beginning of his sophomore year of college to picture his Fourth of July, this wouldn't have been it. Not even close. In fact, Blaine probably would have imagined himself and his roommate sitting outside and watching fireworks from the front of their dorm building, eating junk food. Nothing special.

In actuality, he was lying on the roof of one of New York's tallest skyscrapers, with his blue and red spandex-clad boyfriend's arms wrapped tightly around him.

"You know," Blaine said lightly, "it's really funny."

Kurt turned to look at him, confused, "What?"

"How things can change so quickly, in ways that you never thought they possibly could," he answered, dreamily.

"You are so cliché," Kurt shook his head, chuckling softly.

The two took a moment to silently admire the series of colorful explosions that were erupting all around them.

"Can I tell you something?"

"You have more secrets to tell? You're just an endless mystery, aren't you, Kurt Hummel?" Blaine teased.

"Shut up."

He laughed, "Fine, fine. Your wish is my command."

He returned his attention to the light show taking place before him, watching with an almost childlike wonder. Kurt gazed adoringly at him, just studying his features, the way the colors of the fireworks were reflected in his eyes. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He wished he had his camera with him.

Feeling eyes on him, Blaine twisted his head to look at his boyfriend, "What?"

"Nothing," Kurt smiled shyly. "I just love you, that's all."

Blaine's breath hitched in his throat. He'd dreamed of hearing Kurt say those words to him, since they'd first met, and after nine months, it was finally happening. Nine months of insane ups and downs and discoveries had all led to this moment, and he didn't think he could be any more content. He grinned, his heart throbbing and pounding in the most delightful ways.

"I love you, too" Blaine whispered, capturing Kurt's lips with his own.

And as they kissed, it was as if all the fireworks in the world could never shine as bright.

Unsatisfactory last line is unsatisfactory. But anyways! Thank you for reading!
Reviews make me smile.

- Casey (: