A/N: I will, eventually, get to the slushie facial. I started with just the first line and then realized that I wanted to write that interaction as well. ;;

It had been all of two weeks since Mike had confessed to Kurt that he was bi, and that Kurt was the reason that he knew. It had been sweet, Kurt had to confess, even though it was done via texting rather than face-to-face, which would have been better. Still, the medium gave Kurt a bit extra time to try and formulate a response, which ended up being moot point.

Mike: kurt u busy?

Kurt: No, I'm just reading for English. What's up?

Mike: can i trust u to keep a secret

Kurt: Of course. If it's big enough, I'll even delete the text so Cedes won't find it.

Mike: umm yes pls

Mike: ive been doing a lot of thinking recently and i think that i like boys

Mike: and girls i mean

Mike: and well you specifically

(Kurt's planned text here was starting to form, but he couldn't quite get it to sound better than just "Oh. Um, thanks?" - it wasn't that he didn't like the jock, or didn't find him attractive, or wasn't flattered; it was mostly that he expected this to be a cruel joke. There was no way that the cute dancing jock was into a skinny queen like Kurt.)

Mike: listen i no u prolly dont no wat 2 say but how about this

Mike: dinner thursday night? breadsticks? im buying

Kurt: Ask me again tomorrow before school?

Kurt's finger hovered above the 'Send' button on his phone, unsure as to how Mike would take the admittedly curt text. It wasn't that he didn't trust Mike, it was... well, okay, it was that he didn't trust that it was Mike. He could see Puckerman swiping Mike's phone while they were hanging out and trying to mess with the fag's head.

But if it was actually Mike... well, Kurt had to smile a bit. Admittedly, he didn't know the quiet dancer very well, but he seemed to be a nice guy, and he couldn't exactly complain about the eye candy. And having someone there for him who was both in Glee club and a fairly well-established jock at the school would probably help with the dumpster dives.

He bit his lip and hit 'Send'. It had almost been five minutes since Mike had suggested their date, and coming up on ten since he'd admitted his crush. Or, at least, since the texts apparently suggesting and admitting as such, Kurt corrected himself. There was no point in getting his hopes up prematurely.

His phone buzzed, and he unlocked it to read the message.

Mike: um sure thing. whens ur dumpster dive tmr?

Kurt: They usually catch me around 8:05.

Mike: ok so how bout 8:00 and far away from the dumpster? other entrance to the school with the ramp?

Kurt had to smile, though he was a bit apprehensive - if this was the jock clique playing some Neanderthal game du jour, he might be in for worse than a dumpster dive tomorrow. But he'd risk it.

Kurt: Sure. See you then, Mike.

He waited for a response for about half an hour, then pushed the conversation to the back of his mind to focus again on Orwell's dystopian 1984. When his phone buzzed an hour later, he ignored it, not even registering who it might have been.

When he checked it just before bed, his stomach clenched just a bit - not in a bad I'm-going-to-hit-something-hard-in-the-dumpster-this-time way, but in the sentimental way that it always did when he watched Love Actually.

Mike: goodnight, princess peach. hope i dont need to look in another castle tmr. :)