Mentions of the Sadie Hawkins dance will appear, but I promise it's not a major focus! Just want to warn you in case, though. :)

Kurt felt like lukewarm death. This was an improvement over the last couple days, at least, when he had felt like hot death, but he could still have passed on getting this ridiculous sinus infection.

He curled up on top of his tiny lecture hall desk as best he could, hoping for a quick power nap before class started and he had to focus again. He'd already missed both lectures last week when the worst of his infection was upon him, so he couldn't afford to be physically present but mentally somewhere else that day, unfortunately.

"Hey, you feeling better?" a familiar voice asked him, prompting Kurt to smile into his scarf. "I missed you last week. Professor Kent wore this atrocious orange and purple argyle sweater vest, and I had no one to mock it with."

"Poor you," Kurt teased, lifting his head just enough to catch Blaine's look of despair. "I was busy trying to keep my sinuses from exploding and ruining my bone structure."

"Ugh, you got that infection that's been going around?" Blaine said sympathetically. "My roommate Sam got it too. I thought he was going to own stock in Kleenex by the time he got better."

"I think I'm going to be known as Rudolph by the time this passes," Kurt said, pushing himself upright just to bury his head in his hands. "I'm stuck in that hellhole where it hurts to blow your nose but you also can't go longer than about four seconds without your nose starting to drip."

Blaine hummed in understanding. "I promise I'll pretend not to notice if you wipe your nose on your sleeve throughout lecture," he teased.

"Truly the best study buddy there is," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "How would I survive Intro to Shakespeare without you by my side?"

"Professor Kent's random assignment of partners was truly the most fortunate thing to ever happen to you," Blaine said, parroting Kurt's melodramatic tone. "Especially since I made sure to keep my handwriting legible so you could copy all my notes from last week."

Kurt perked up at this, clapping his hands together once in happiness. Kent's lectures were notoriously wordy, and he didn't post his slides online like most of the other teachers did. "Oh my God, I love you. I could kiss you for this."

Both boys instantly blushed bright pink.

"Um. I mean - I didn't-" Kurt fumbled, suddenly forgetting how to make words. Of all the stupid expressions you could use, Hummel! Why don't you just tell him you've been pining after him all semester?

"It's fine," Blaine cut in, not sounding much smoother than Kurt. "I, uh. I get what you meant."

Are you sure about that? Kurt thought. Thankfully, before he could accidentally offer Blaine a sexual favor in exchange for a pencil or something equally mortifying and over the top, Professor Kent started walking up the aisle to begin class.

Class seemed to go by in a haze of unfamiliar terms and unresolved tension, and before Kurt knew it, eighty minutes had passed and he was free to go home and sleep off some more of his sinus infection. As he was packing his bag, Blaine leaned over and dropped a sheaf of paper into his lap.

"There's all of last week's notes," he said, giving Kurt a soft smile when he turned to look at Blaine. "No rush on getting them back to me, I probably won't even think about them again until the final. I put my phone number on there, too, in case you couldn't make out a word or didn't get something."

"I owe you like five for this," Kurt said gratefully. He stuck Blaine's notes carefully into his folder, trying not to let his giddiness at getting Blaine's number show. Sure, it was for such an innocent reason, but maybe he could spur their friendship of convenience into an actual relationship now. "Can I get you a coffee sometime or something?"

"I would love that," Blaine said, standing up. "I'm also about to be late for my next lecture. Text me a time and I'll tell you if I'm free!" He shot Kurt one last smile and hustled off, waving brightly.

Kurt almost forgot how to get up and leave.

Kurt sat down on the couch that evening and pulled out Blaine's notes, figuring he could at least spend their coffee not-a-date asking questions about the material if somehow they didn't have anything else to talk about.

(Judging by the issue of Vogue he'd seen sticking out of Blaine's bag a couple weeks ago, that wouldn't be a problem, but Kurt was nothing if not prepared.)

"Okay, Hamlet, here we go," he muttered to himself, trying to get pumped. "At least I missed one of the more well-known plays."

He started skimming Blaine's notes, feeling like he should recognize that handwriting from somewhere. The curves of his g's and y's looked familiar, and his A's tilted distinctively. Seeing the curvy lines Blaine used to cross his capital T's finally sparked Kurt's memory.

Hey, K!

Are you feeling better this week? That bully you wrote me about sounds like a real douchebag, if you'll pardon my French. I can't wait until I can get out of Ohio and go somewhere less homophobic. Maybe the dance my school's having this weekend will be nice, at least. I think I'm gonna ask my buddy Tyler if he'd like to go with me. Just as friends, though! He's not quite my type.

Still: courage. They can't beat us down forever, right? One day people will realize just how ignorant they're being.

Ooh, did you see Project Runway last week? Tim Gunn is my hero, oh my God.

Kurt's memory fizzled out there - B's rambling about Project Runway had been compelling, but not as important as his reminder to have courage and keep fighting. He'd almost forgotten about his freshman year English project, where McKinley and B's school in Westerville had done anonymous pen pals in an attempt to encourage better writing skills. Most of the other kids had had real duds for partners, but B and Kurt had discovered a lot of shared interests in their first getting-to-know-you letters, and the novelty of having another gay kid to talk to had been so wonderful.

And then one week, B didn't write back. Mrs. Edwards had told Kurt there had been an unexpected emergency, and he was getting an automatic A for the rest of the project.

He hadn't cared about his grade, though. He wanted his best friend back, and no one would tell him what had happened.

Kurt threw his notebook to the ground in his haste to grab his phone off the coffee table. He had to text Blaine right that minute.

Hey, Blaine, it's Kurt. Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow? I have something really important to ask you.

Sure, 3:30 work for you? That's when I'm done with class. Or do you need to ask me earlier?

3:30 is fine. I'll meet you in the coffee shop in the union.

Works for me! See you then. :)

Kurt fidgeted throughout his classes the next day, anxiously counting down the minutes. His last class let out at 3, and he immediately sprinted to the student union afterwards, knowing he'd be far too early but unable to make himself care.

Blaine showed up a few minutes after 3:30, though it felt like weeks later, and promptly got in line to order his drink. Kurt himself had opted for decaf, knowing he was already wired enough from his nervous adrenaline.

Finally, finally Blaine came to Kurt's table, smiling kindly like always. "What's up, Kurt? My notes weren't that illegible, were they?"

"Blaine, where are you from?" Kurt asked quietly, staring at the pattern painted onto the tabletop.

"Uh, Ohio. Westerville, Ohio," Blaine said, sounding confused.

"And you're a junior like me?"

"Yes?" Blaine said. When Kurt looked up, he could see that Blaine's eyebrows had knit together. "Why are you playing 20 Questions with me, Kurt?"

"Last one, I promise. You'll understand in a minute, hopefully." Kurt took a deep breath. "Blaine, did you have a pen pal from Lima when you were a freshman in high school?"

"Ye- oh my God." Blaine looked just as floored as Kurt felt. "K?"

Kurt just nodded, feeling his eyes water.

"Oh my God, this is surreal," Blaine said, reaching out for Kurt's hand on the table and covering it with his own. "How did you figure it out?"

"Your handwriting hasn't changed, B," Kurt said. "It took me a couple minutes, but then I remembered your last letter to me and almost fell off my couch in shock."

"You remember my letters?" Blaine asked.

"You were the only other gay kid I knew, and you just kept telling me to have courage and be myself at the times I most needed to hear it," Kurt said, trying to convey just how important those letters had been to him. "Even after you stopped writing me, I followed your advice."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. "You helped me, too, you know. Every time you wrote me and said that even though you were sick and tired of being shoved down, you were still going to be true to yourself, you inspired me to stick to my own guns."

They were silent for a moment, just drinking in each other's company.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked tentatively. "Why did you stop writing me?"

Blaine heaved a deep sigh. "You remember that dance I told you about? The one I was going to ask my friend to?"

Kurt nodded.

"Well, he said yes, so we made plans to meet up outside the gym at 8 and go in together, just like any other couple. Apparently some of the jocks overheard us making these plans, because when we got there, we got ambushed. They told us in no uncertain terms that we were not like any other couple, and that they were going to send us to Hell where we belonged. And then...they beat the crap out of us," Blaine said, looking away. "Once I got out of the hospital, my parents had me moved to Dalton, a private school with a zero tolerance policy. There was no time for me to write you one last letter, nor was my arm in any shape for me to do so."

Kurt felt numb. His sweet, lively best friend had gotten the tar kicked out of him for daring to go to a school dance? He'd thought his own election to Prom Queen was terrible, but this just made him sick to his stomach.

"So that's my story," Blaine said, a twisted, mocking grin on his face. "Motivational speaker Blaine Anderson didn't have the opportunity to face his bullies again, nor would he have had the courage to if he'd had the chance. I hope this doesn't tarnish the message you got from my letters."

"Don't you dare say that," Kurt hissed, coming back to life at Blaine's self-deprecating words. "Blaine, you telling me to have courage got me through my horrific freshman year. Even after I joined my school's Glee club sophomore year and made some friends, I fell back on your message of courage when I needed it most. Finding out you're alive and the guy I've been crushing on for months is legitimately some of the best news I've ever heard - I was afraid you had died, B!"

Kurt's voice rose as he got more incensed, and he pounded one fist on the table before he could regain some self-control. As he realized what he'd just admitted, he felt his face flush scarlet.

"You've had a crush on me for months?" Blaine repeated, eyes wide and - hopeful?

"I suppose I've had a crush on you for years, technically, now that I know you're B," Kurt said, not seeing a point in deflecting. Blaine already knew about some of his worst insecurities. "You were so kind and fun to talk to both now and in high school, and you may not realize this, Blaine, but you're also pretty hot."

"I've been told worse things," Blaine teased, a smirk appearing briefly on his face before it melted into something tender and sincere. "And I can't say I don't return your feelings, K. There's a reason I included my phone number on those notes I lent you, and it wasn't so you could give them back to me faster."

Kurt couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't do anything but stare into Blaine's eyes and notice that they were getting closer and he was rising out of his seat and suddenly they were leaning across their tiny coffee shop table and kissing for all they were worth, and Kurt just wanted to drown in this sensation for the rest of his life.

"You want to come back to my apartment?" Blaine asked once they had to come up for air, pressing his forehead to Kurt's. "I've honestly missed you, K, and we have so much to catch up on."

"Can there be more kissing?" Kurt asked, dazed.

"Oh, hell yes."

Kurt was hit with a sudden wash of gratitude for the short-lived McKinley High Pen Pal Project.