A/N: Entry numero uno for Klaine Week '13. The topic was Season 2 Flashback and this takes place on the last day of the Christmas break, between 'A Very Glee Christmas' and 'The Sue Sylvester Shuffle'.

Disclaimer: Inspired by an episode of Friends, title from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and starring Glee characters... I don't even know where to start all that disclaiming


Painted Blind

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind

- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

...

Blaine isn't looking. He one hundred percent, absolutely, really, truly isn't looking. But somehow (without looking, mind you) he just happens to notice that Kurt's pants are sort of ridiculously tight. In a good way.

A very good way.

It was when Kurt had first arrived at the door – wrapped up in an overcoat and scarf, cheeks flushed and eyes bright from the blistery winter weather – that Blaine had noticed the pants. About the time when Kurt had oh-so-casually stripped off his coat, revealing a grey shirt buttoned up to his neck, a darkly checked waistcoat, and oh.

Blaine thinks his mouth might have fallen open a little. Thankfully, Kurt had been busy hanging up his scarf with his back turned and- oh again. That was... something.

It's not that Blaine likes Kurt, he is pretty sure of that. Because they're friends, and they've told each other things and been vulnerable with each other and had fun with each other in a way that just doesn't happen between Blaine and people who he likes. Liking someone tends to be characterised by sweaty palms, nerves, jumpy feelings in Blaine's stomach. But with Kurt things are so, so easy, and liking him would complicate things, not to mention how much of a betrayal of his trust it would be, what with all that he went through with Karofsky, and besides, what sort of sick person would Blaine have to be to want to ruin Kurt's first chance at happiness, at settling in at Dalton and finally getting away from the stigma that society forces his sexuality to be?

So Blaine doesn't like Kurt – is glad for his company and loves his friendship and really has never felt closer to someone ever before in his life – but as he leads the way to the living room, waving towards the DVD cabinet and inviting Kurt to pick whatever he wants to watch, Blaine is still just sort of in a daze. A tight-pants-induced daze.

Because, well, Blaine is gay. And Kurt looks like that. Blaine really can't help himself. And then Blaine turns to go to the kitchen and as he glances back Kurt bends down at look at the DVDs and his ass is just-

Kurt's ass is just not something that Blaine should be thinking about right now.

Not something he should be thinking about ever, he mentally corrects himself. Kurt's ass is not something Blaine should be thinking about ever.

Blaine makes it to the kitchen without letting out a peep, a feat of which he is quite proud, and calls something back to Kurt about popcorn and a drink. Kurt answers with an affirmative and so Blaine ducks down to rifle through the low cupboard for a bowl, trying to think about something else. Only not thinking about thinking about Kurt's pants is still sort of thinking about them in a backwards way.

Blaine bumps his head on bench as he straightens up again, and really this is getting ridiculous. They're just pants. It's just Kurt. This is no reason for Blaine to be getting all worked up.

He was just thrown off guard, he tells himself, finding a packet of popcorn in the pantry and emptying it into the bowl, that's all. Blaine is not used to seeing Kurt in clothes like that, clothes that have the ability to temporarily wipe the mind of any male gay teenager. But Kurt is absolutely entitled to wear whatever he likes, and Blaine is mature enough to not make a big deal about what another gay man would probably be thinking if he saw Kurt like that, because no other man is seeing Kurt like that, so it doesn't even matter, even if they're sick minds could possibly go-

But Blaine is more mature than that. Kurt's clothes are Kurt's business. And if Blaine is concerned for Kurt's well-being, then that's Blaine's problem.

Besides, being concerned for Kurt is fine. Friends can be concerned for friends. And of course Blaine's not the type of gay man to think anything unsavoury about Kurt and those pants and Kurt in those pants and Kurt getting out of those pants-

Blaine takes a deep breath and lets it out again.

He's fine. Everything is fine.

Heading back into the living room, Blaine is secretly relieved to find Kurt sitting on the couch, the opening screen for the Sound of Music playing on the TV.

"Is this okay?" Kurt asks.

"It's great," Blaine nods, then smiles, then wonders if all that was too much. 'Yes' probably would have sufficed.

He walks the rest of the way to the couch, sitting down beside Kurt and wedging the bowl of popcorn between their thighs. Because it makes sense to make sure that they're not touching, because it's a big couch and why should they both squash in the middle when there's plenty of room for them to sit together and not touch? It makes perfect sense. It has nothing to do with Kurt's pants and the hot skin that would almost definitely be able to felt if Blaine's leg was pressed against them.

Nothing.

Kurt starts the movie and says something funny and casual and normal about nuns and for a good long while Blaine manages to forget about the pants. He and Kurt talk and stop talking for the songs when they both sing along under their breath and sometimes not under their breath, since Blaine's parents are out and they can sing as loud as they want without disturbing anyone.

When Captain Von Trapp introduces his children and calls out "Kurt!" Blaine nudges Kurt's arm with his elbow and Kurt blushes and Blaine grins and their smiles and eyes seem to catch for a moment before they both look back to screen. But that's normal. It happens sometimes between them and Blaine knows not to make anything of it because they are friends, and that's what matters above all else. He's never had a friend like Kurt, he thinks, glancing back at him, watching his profile as he watches the screen. Kurt is special, so special, and Blaine loves this thing that they have.

Only after a while the popcorn is finished, and Kurt begins to wriggle uncomfortably and Blaine quickly moves the popcorn bowl out of the way and oh all over again. Kurt's legs are primly crossed in front of him and the pants really don't leave any room for that kind of movement and Blaine doesn't even mean to look but he sort of just sees and-

Oh, god.

Blaine turns back to the TV screen and lets out a shaky breath and Rolf and Liesel are singing 'Sixteen Going on Seventeen' and if not for the pants this would be so normal, what is an item of clothing doing to make it not normal?

"I need to go to the bathroom," Kurt suddenly says, and he stands up and walks out of the room and Blaine is just left blinking blankly in his wake, alone on the too-big couch. One hundred percent, absolutely, really, truly not looking at Kurt's ass as he retreats into the hall.

The problem is that the pants are tight in a way that means they hug all the way up Kurt's legs, making them seem to go on forever. They're even tight around his ankles, which Blaine didn't think was possible. It's as if they're custom made, hanging on to every knob of bone and swathe of muscle right up Kurt's calves, stretching over his knees and virtually painted up his thighs...

Blaine sort of wants to cry with how awful all of this is. How awful he is for not managing to be blind to it all.

On the TV, the movie is still playing. Blaine watches on miserably, waiting for Kurt to return.

Blaine waits through 'My Favourite Things' and then 'Do-Re-Mi', glancing towards the hall in concern. It's when 'The Lonely Goatherd' begins that he finally gets up, pausing the movie and moving to stand awkwardly in the hall by the bathroom door.

"Uh, Kurt?" he calls, and he hears the frantic noise of a cabinet being closed before Kurt's nerve-wracked reply comes.

"Yes?"

"Is everything all right?"

There is a long pause before Kurt finally says, "No. Not really."

"Um..." Blaine isn't quite sure how to react, "Can I... help? With anything."

"I- I need you not to laugh."

"I won't, Kurt, of course I won't."

"I'm- oh god, this is so embarrassing. I need to borrow some- some pants. And a towel."

Blaine is more perplexed than amused. The (tiny, miniscule, minute, itsy, bitsy) part of his mind that it still stuck on oh has jumped off into all sorts of awful (wonderful) scenarios that Blaine is positive that this isn't. But either way, he is really not anywhere close to laughing.

"Pants and a towel?"

"Dear god, don't make me say it again, Blaine, I'm already embarrassed enough!" Kurt snaps, and Blaine nods, then realises Kurt can't see him and mumbles an "okay, one second" before turning to dash upstairs to his room and dig a pair of old Dalton gym pants out of his wardrobe and a towel out of the linen closet.

He hurries back down to the bathroom and knocks on the door.

"I have pants and a towel," he says.

"Please, don't look," Kurt begs, and then opens the door a crack, sticking his hand out and waving it expectantly.

Wordlessly, Blaine places the pants and towel in Kurt's waiting hand, head turned to look back over his shoulder because whatever Kurt needs with new pants and a towel in his bathroom, Blaine absolutely doesn't want to know. Or, at least, he doesn't want to know right at this moment. Or, at least, he is able to understand from Kurt's tone that there are more important issues to address right now and the why of it all can be sketched out later.

There are vague noises of Kurt doing whatever he has to do, and Blaine settles back against the wall beside the bathroom door. He closes his eyes and presses the palms of his hands to them until white shapes start to flicker in his vision. God, this day has been weird. Just weird all around, he thinks.

"Sweatpants, Blaine?" Kurt calls, and his tone is sarcastic, "Did you even notice what shirt I have to wear with these?"

An unexpected laugh huffs out of Blaine's lungs and he glances to where the bathroom door is opening. Kurt emerges from inside, looking embarrassed as he silently hands the now damp towel back to Blaine.

"You might want to wash that," he says, "I had to use it to mop up all the water from the floor. I couldn't find a towel in the cabinets."

Blaine nods, then glances down at the outfit Kurt has somehow managed to make out of his grey shirt and Blaine's sweatpants. Kurt's old pants and his waistcoat are clutched in his other hand, looking oddly damp, and he ducks past Blaine to hang them both up by the door with his coat and scarf.

"I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to my Dad," he sighs.

Blaine bites his lip, doesn't want to ask but knows he'll have to, "Would you mind explaining it to me?"

Kurt ducks his head, still obviously embarrassed, and mumbles, "Do I have to?"

The question seems rhetorical, so Blaine just bites his lip and waits.

Eventually, taking a deep breath in, Kurt looks up and says all in rush, "I was washing my hands and flicked some soap onto my pants and so I tried to get it off but it just made it worse so I took them off to get the soap out, only when I went to put them on again the place where I'd wet them kept sticking and I- I couldn't get them up. And then I was sort of... jumping... to try and get them up and I knocked the tap and water just went everywhere and I was so embarrassed I was just going to come out and use the tea towel from the kitchen or something, but I really couldn't get my pants on and there were no spare towels in there and... I'm sorry. You must have thought I'd fallen in or something."

"No, I..." Blaine doesn't quite know how to finish that sentence, so instead breaks off and goes with, "It's fine. I'm glad you're okay. And, please, don't be embarrassed. It's fine, really."

Kurt shakes his head, but now he's smiling a little at least.

"It was just so dumb," he mutters, "I should never have worn those pants anyway. Dad gave this stern look, and I swear if it hadn't been you I was hanging out with he would've made me change. I just like them," he shrugs, "They look good on me."

"They look amazing on you," Blaine blurts out, completely without meaning to.

Kurt's eyes widen, and Blaine feels his face go from normal to beet red in the second it takes for the comment to register.

"I didn't- I meant-" he's fumbling for something to say, something to fix whatever craziness just decided to tumble out of his mouth.

"It's okay," Kurt interrupts, and then his lips hook up in a small, nervous smile, "Thank you."

Blaine nods a little, still blushing furiously and answers, entirely on autopilot, "My pleasure."

The air feels thick in the hall between them, and the distance between Kurt, by the front door, and Blaine, still near the bathroom, could be minuscule or mighty. Blaine feels heavy on his feet, as if one step would maybe close the distance between Kurt and himself, or would otherwise send him falling through the floor, weighed down with regrets and mistakes.

It's as if something buzzes in this moment. Something borne from a wild combination of Kurt's oh pants and Blaine's sweatpants hanging low on Kurt's hips, showing a strip of skin at Kurt's ankle that somehow does something to Blaine, something not altogether uncomfortable. Something that has been brewing since 'Sixteen Going on Seventeen' or maybe even since 'Baby It's Cold Outside' or possibly from as far back as "Excuse me".

And Blaine realises in that moment that he wants to take a step forward and find out what happens.

He blinks, feels his jaw loosen in the shock of that realisation and lifts his foot, about to move, only-

Only Kurt is standing there next to the coat rack, so tiny beside his own hanging overcoat. For the first time today, Blaine lets himself look at Kurt - at how nervous he seems, how lonely and innocent and fragile he still is. Kurt hasn't even been at Dalton for a full semester. He barely knows anyone there other than Blaine, even the Warblers aren't quite familiar to him yet.

What it comes down to, is that Kurt is still so new to all this: to people caring, to friendships that aren't based on his singing ability or his impeccable fashion sense or an almost-forgotten, foolish crush. This life, it's safety, and everything else it encompasses is new to Kurt. Blaine is new to Kurt.

The last thing Kurt needs right now is for his world to be turned upside down all over again. Kurt needs stability, at least for a little bit longer. He doesn't need Blaine to walk over to him and do something mind-bending, something earth-shattering – something that could permanently transport their whole lives to a different place.

"We should keep watching the movie," Blaine says, breaking the silence.

Kurt nods.

"You know, you never got me the drink I asked for," he points out, "Some water, ironically, would be nice."

Blaine feels a little horrified at how awful his manners were.

"Sorry! I completely forgot. I'll go get your drink now. Start up the movie, or maybe rewind it a bit. You missed 'My Favourite Things'."

Blaine comes back into the living room with Kurt's water and the first thing he sees is Kurt bent down in front of the TV, picking up the remote off the floor. And Blaine is not looking, he so, so isn't, but oh seems to happen all over again. Only, this time, he's not sure that he can really blame it on the pants.

"How far should I go back?" Kurt asks, standing up again and returning to the couch with the remote.

"I wouldn't mind watching 'Sixteen Going on Seventeen' again," Blaine says, "I wasn't really paying attention last time."

"And whose fault is that?" Kurt teases.

Blaine smiles, putting Kurt's drink on the floor and sitting down next to him, nice and close. He can feel Kurt's warm thigh pressing against his own and it's nice. Just nice, he thinks.

"It's my fault," Blaine replies.

He still barely hears anything as Kurt presses play and Rolf and Liesel start singing. But it's all right this time. This buzz, this thing in the air – it can be normal too. A new type of stability to establish in Kurt's shaky world. A new normal for both of them to get used to.