Hello again everyone and welcome to my new story! This one only has 4 parts, but they're long, for my standards. It totals approximately 30k words. I plan to update weekly throughout the month of January.

This story was inspired by a song, as usual, and the title is taken from the Blake McGrath's "Instead," but don't listen to it just yet unless you want later chapters spoiled. ;) I don't own the song, nor do I own Glee or any of its characters or plots.

Also, it takes a freaking village to write a fic, apparently. Special thanks to GleefulDarrenCrissFan and BeautifullyBroken23 for helping me out when I needed it!

And thank you to the fabulous Loverstar for the artwork!

I really hope you enjoy this little guy as much as I've enjoyed writing him. Much love.

Instead

Part 1

Freshman Year

If there was one thing Kurt Hummel hated, it was sharing a living space with another human being. He was very particular about the pristine condition of his belongings and was not looking forward to living with some (presumably) bumbling idiot who would probably ruin everything Kurt had worked so hard to set up by being a complete slob or by disregarding boundaries. Kurt loved boundaries, and hated people who crossed them.

He had spent all of his first day in New York meticulously arranging his tiny box of a dorm room just the way he liked, and thought he might actually combust if his new roommate were to walk in and destroy it all.

The piece of paper stating his roommate's name — Blaine Anderson — sat in his hand like it had so many times that summer, giving only the smallest clue as to who Kurt would have to endure living with for a whole year. Blaine sounded like a pretentious name, and Kurt had already crafted a detailed backstory for him in his head.

He imagined Blaine was a pompous private school boy who came from old money. His wardrobe consisted of primarily cardigans, boat shoes, and monogrammed handkerchiefs, and though he acted well put together, he would spend most nights getting plastered at frat parties (only the most ostentatious ones, of course) and having raucous sex with his girlfriend, whom he had been dating since he was thirteen and was arranged to marry because he was very, very straight.

Disrupting his thoughts, a key turned in the door and the person Kurt would be sharing his teensy dorm with all year walked through. Kurt was predisposed to dislike him based solely on the fact that they would be forced to live basically on top of each other until May, but all preconceived notions of Blaine flew out the window when they locked eyes for the first time.

Blaine's whole face lit up upon spotting his new roommate. "Hi!"

Kurt struggled to find his voice. "H-hi."

A loud clunk made both of them jump, and Blaine turned away from Kurt's stare toward the source of the sound. "Dad! Please be careful with that! I've told you a hundred times that my original cast soundtrack collection is in there! And Mama, you can put my bow ties over by the closet."

Kurt smiled and settled back in his desk chair, watching Blaine direct his parents as all previous qualms about Blaine, and having a roommate in general, flew out the window. He and this unfairly cute boy were going to get along just fine.

Blaine turned back to him after making sure his boxes were being treated properly and stuck out his hand for Kurt to shake. "I'm sorry I was distracted from introducing myself. My name is Blaine Anderson. It's very nice to meet you." He looked around the room, nodding in approval. "I must say your decor choices are simply inspired."

Kurt blushed profusely and scrambled forward to take the proffered hand. "Kurt Hummel. Thank you so much. I was afraid I'd be rooming with someone who couldn't appreciate my eye for style."

"Well that's—" Blaine was cut off by his mother scolding him for leaving her and Blaine's dad to do all of the manual labor of moving his things. Blaine smiled apologetically at Kurt. "Better get back to work."

"Let me help?" Getting sweaty by lifting someone else's boxes and carrying them up two flights of stairs was not something Kurt ever thought he'd volunteer for, but with how enamored he was with Blaine, he probably would have burned his boot collection if he thought it would make Blaine like him.

As it turned out, real life Blaine was so different from what Kurt's imagination had concocted — aside from the private school and the cardigans, that was. There was not a pretentious bone in Blaine's body, and Kurt was fairly certain he did not have a girlfriend.

After only ten minutes of knowing Blaine, Kurt had to fight off the urge to fall to one knee, begging his new roommate to marry him. He was crushing hard on this traditionally handsome boy who complimented his style and was so, so nice. He held himself in check, though. Kurt wanted to make a good impression on his new roommate, for one, but he was also painfully aware that Blaine was the first gay man he had met, aside from closeted Karofsky. He had an inkling that his draw toward Blaine was more than that, but he wanted to be absolutely sure. So he vowed to ignore his attraction to Blaine until he had at least met more gay people, at which point he could determine whether or not his crush was simply because another gay man was cute (unbearably so), and sweet to him (chivalry was not dead!).

"Your scarf collection is extensive," Blaine commented later that afternoon while struggling to find space to hang his clothes in the shared closet.

Kurt blushed from where he was reclined on his bed. "Yeah, I'm sorry I took up so much space in there. I figured I'd be rooming with some disgusting straight boy who shoved all of his clothes in a drawer or left them all over the floor like some kind of heathen. I'll try to figure out another storage solution."

"No need," Blaine shook his head that had finally emerged from the closet. Kurt stopped himself from making the obvious joke. "I was able to fit everything in. I'm not going to throw my clothes on the floor, so you don't have to worry about that. And I'm definitely not straight."

"You don't say," Kurt drawled, though he was internally flailing with excitement at the confirmation. "I remember how you introduced yourself to me. 'Your decor choices are simply inspired,'" Kurt mocked lightly.

Blaine laughed at himself, stowing the last of his boxes under Kurt's lower bunk. "It's just so nice to be able to really be myself and not have to worry about what anyone in small town Ohio thinks of me. You know what I mean?"

Kurt shook his head, unable to believe his luck at being paired with someone like Blaine for a roommate. "Yes, actually. I know exactly what you mean."

They spent a moment lost in their own thoughts, but it was a surprisingly comfortable silence. Kurt realized he was watching Blaine's face and blinked hard to rid himself of the cartoon hearts that were undoubtedly floating above his head.

"I saw a flyer for a 'getting to know you' event for our dorm tonight. Want to go? I think it's starting in a few minutes," Blaine suggested.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "That's not really my thing."

"Me either. But we can people watch and judge them on their outfits and place bets on which ones will hook up and how soon."

At that, Kurt was convinced that he and Blaine were made to be friends. "Sounds perfect." In an effort to be himself, Kurt did something he would only normally do to his girlfriends back home, and held out an arm, which Blaine took in an instant, linking elbows with him.

The college years might be a journey to self-discovery for most people, but eight hours in and Kurt felt like he was already coming into his own.

For the first week they lived together, Blaine and Kurt stayed up late every night talking as they lay in bed. It was easy to tell secrets to the darkness, so they both told each other everything — even things they had never told anybody else.

It became immediately and abundantly clear that Kurt could trust Blaine with anything, and vice versa. There were still moments of doubt in the early days, though, like the day Kurt came home early and caught Blaine in the middle of doing something on his computer that he had never intended for Kurt to see.

Kurt came into their room after one of his classes had been canceled to find Blaine with his back to the door, staring intently at his laptop with earbuds firmly in place, effectively blocking out the sounds of Kurt's approaching footsteps.

Kurt smirked as he realized what Blaine was looking at. He came up right behind Blaine and tapped him on the shoulder, frightening the other man, who slammed his laptop shut and turned to look at Kurt, flushing immediately.

"You're home early," Blaine said, trying to seem nonchalant. He moved to rest his elbow atop his laptop, but it slid out from under him and Blaine stumbled. Kurt only grinned as Blaine grew more flustered. "Shit. You saw, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah I did."

Blaine kept his gaze aimed firmly at his hands in his lap as he fumbled over words. "It's not—it wasn't—I was just—"

"...Trying to find out 'which Hollywood hunk you should kiss under the mistletoe?'" Kurt supplied.

Blaine blushed scarlet and mumbled something nearly unintelligible about online quizzes being his guilty pleasure. "Please don't judge me," he begged.

Kurt continued to grin at him, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

"Please?" There was legitimate fear of rejection written on Blaine's face, which Kurt felt the need to quash immediately. He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and scoot over. I want to take it when you're done."

Blaine stared in disbelief before turning slowly back to his computer and opening it up to the quiz, hovering the mouse above the option he had been about to select before he was interrupted.

"There's no way your favorite Christmas song is 'The Little Drummer Boy.' That's not anyone's favorite," Kurt poked Blaine in the side playfully.

"That's why it's my favorite." He clicked submit as he answered the last question. "Oh, look at that. I'm going to kiss Ryan Gosling under the mistletoe this year."

"You can have him. It's my turn now. Give it over!" Kurt made grabby hands at the laptop.

Blaine watched Kurt while he made his way through the questions, appreciating the laughter and lack of judgment in the boy who was quickly becoming his best friend. Kurt chanced a peek at Blaine, who was clearly wondering how he could be so lucky. Kurt understood. He asked himself the same question about his new friend daily.

Kurt smiled softly and dropped a quick kiss to Blaine's shoulder. "Okay, one more and then…" Kurt clicked the last button and waited for his results before cheering. "Idris Elba! Yes! Take that, Ryan Gosling kisser!"

"What? No! I'll trade you!" Blaine offered, jealous of Kurt's result.

"Not a chance. Get your own!"

"Didn't your father ever tell you that it's rude to be selfish?"

"Selfish? Moi?" Kurt held a hand to his heart. "Blaine, you should know by now that I will share anything with you. Anything except for Idris."

"Fine. I'm going down to the cafeteria and I'm going to eat all the cheesecake just so you can't have any."

"No! That's just cruel." Blaine was already up and heading out the door. "Blaine! Stop!" he called after him. "I'll give you Idris. Just don't take my cheesecake!"

Blaine giggled and slowed, allowing Kurt to catch up. "At least you have your priorities in order."

"The only thing about me that's straight."

Two months and innumerable online quizzes later, Kurt decided that he had made enough gay friends and built a deep enough connection with Blaine to firmly say his attraction to Blaine was the real deal. Not that he had really ever doubted his feelings. By the time he reached that conclusion, of course, he had an entirely different reason for pretending he felt nothing more than platonic affection for his friend, and it was just that — Blaine was his friend. The best friend he had ever had, actually. In the short span of time that they had known each other, they had become confidants and the other's biggest supporter. They helped each other with homework in their respective strength areas, made sure that the other boy was taking care of himself, and had even been named honorary members of the other's family. Kurt had never imagined it could be so nice to have someone who he could always count on to fall back to, but now he could not imagine life without Blaine.

The guys and girls from their dorm had become like an extended family, though Kurt and Blaine still preferred the company of each other over anyone else. He had good friends, a wonderful support system, and for the first time in his life, Kurt felt like he truly fit in.

One night in mid October, the dorm's resident assistant hosted a Vegas-themed mixer for the students in her dorm. Kurt and Blaine joined in for their usual reason: to gather gossip and mockery material.

The RA had set up tables with poker, blackjack, and even had a roulette wheel. There was a "bar" where a "bartender" was giving out nonalcoholic drinks, and a raucous game of bingo was going on in the far corner of the room. No actual gambling was allowed, but the students could trade in chips at the end of the night for prizes.

"Classy," Kurt snarked upon seeing the prize table. "Prizes from the school store. Need yet another University T-shirt? How about a pen? This is doing the exact opposite of motivating me to participate."

"Oh, but look!" Blaine squeezed Kurt's bicep. "That little stuffed doggie! I had the exact same one when I was a kid. I took him everywhere with me for a good year or so, but then I lost him." He used air quotes around the last part. "Pretty sure Cooper stole him from me and threw him away. His name was Elizabeth."

"A boy dog named Elizabeth?" Kurt turned to look at Blaine, shock coloring his features.

Blaine shrugged. "Don't judge. Boys can have girl names. Why do we even gender names anyway? It's a societal construct that—"

"My middle name is Elizabeth." Kurt half-expected the usual scoff, the refusal to believe, or the criticism that usually accompanied the confession, but none of it came.

"How is it possible that we have known each other for two months and I didn't know that?" Blaine's voice softened. "It was your mother's name, wasn't it?"

Kurt paid no attention to the fact that he was stopping in front of a moving stream of people when he turned and hugged Blaine tightly without explanation. Blaine happily hugged back, not needing one.

Kurt broke away first, patting Blaine on the back. "Okay, blackjack master, go win me a new stapler or something."

Kurt was wiping the floor with his bingo opponents as he sipped his way through his fourth Shirley Temple. Blaine kept bringing them over to him, for which Kurt was grateful, yet suspicious, so he started watching his roommate whenever he could spare a glance to try to uncover his motives.

Blaine was spending very little time playing blackjack and very much time at the bar, Kurt observed. He noticed that every time Blaine walked away from the bar, he looked slightly flushed and quite pleased with himself.

What was Blaine up to?

Kurt saw him walk up to the bar for the second time in ten minutes and begin talking to the bartender. The server was an older student, probably an upperclassman at the university, and he was extremely attractive. He said something and Blaine threw his head back in exaggerated laughter, eliciting a self-satisfied smile from the well-muscled bartender, and — oh! Blaine was flirting.

Letting his hand go slack around his bingo marker, Kurt stopped attending to the game altogether. The overwhelming force of jealousy was stunning as it slammed into him.

He breathed slowly, counted to ten, breathed again, counted backward from ten, then breathed one last time, all to stop himself from marching over to Blaine to take him home.

This is ridiculously irrational, Kurt, he told himself. You have no claim over Blaine. You have no say in if he flirts and who he flirts with.

Regardless of whether or not they had talked about it or if Blaine returned his feelings, it stung that the boy he had a crazy crush on, the one who was also his best friend and the person he cared for most in the world (apart from his dad) would flirt with someone else. But then...how could Blaine know that Kurt didn't want him flirting with other guys? Kurt hadn't asked him not to, and he was certainly not planning on doing so. With the amazing friendship they had built, there was no chance Kurt would speak up about his feelings now and risk Blaine freaking out. With all of that in mind, how could Kurt expect Blaine not to flirt with and hook up with and date other people? And why would he want him to stop? The last thing he wanted was for Blaine to be lonely and miserable. Blaine was an adventurous soul. He always tried to meet as many people and explore as many new things as he could, and Kurt refused to hold him back from that. He was just going to have to learn to allow Blaine to flirt and be flirted with, because if one thing was undeniable, it was that Blaine was insanely attractive and other boys were bound to start realizing.

So Kurt swallowed his jealousy and made a decision. He wouldn't hold Blaine back, and he wouldn't hold himself back. He would not allow himself to have Blaine, so he might as well take a page from the other man's book and start trying to put himself out there with other people.

At the present time, however, he had a much more important task. He needed to fulfill his new role as wingman.

Kurt abandoned his half-full bingo cards and walked over to the bar that Blaine had just left.

"Hi," he greeted the bartender. He saw Blaine's eyes on them from across the room, but ignored the curious look.

"Hi there. What can I get for you?" The older man was about Kurt's height, but much more filled out. His hair was a dirty blond, skin tanned, and he had eyes as brown as dark chocolate. Kurt's heart sank as he realized that the type of guy Blaine was apparently interested in was the exact opposite of him.

Once again, he pushed away the jealousy and put on a smile. "Your number." Upon the bartender's confused yet flattered look he added, "Not for me. For my friend."

The bartender followed Kurt's gaze to find Blaine half-immersed in his blackjack game, periodically looking up to check on them, and he nodded in recognition.

"Yes. Please. Give him my number. Give him my address. My email address. My credit card number. That guy can have it all."

Kurt sympathized with the look of adoration for Blaine. He laughed quietly and took the napkin with the phone number jotted down in pen. Walking away, Kurt went over to stand behind Blaine.

"Hey! What—" Blaine began, but Kurt cut him off by dangling the napkin in his face.

"He gets off at 11. You're welcome," Kurt kissed his cheek and darted away.

He breathed out when he settled back into his seat at the bingo table. He looked back over his shoulder to see Blaine grinning like a loon, and felt a smile spread across his own face.

If it made Blaine that happy, then he would gladly continue to play the part of wingman.

"Hi, are you Kurt?" asked the boy next to him. "I'm Hector."

Kurt eyed him in surprise, and took his hand to shake it. The boy was cute and well dressed, and though he had never met Hector before, he had heard his good friend Nick talk about how cool of a guy he was, so Kurt nodded with resolve. If Blaine could do it, he could too.

"Hi Hector. I was just thinking about heading down the street for a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"

Hector readily agreed, and Kurt fired off a text to Blaine to let him know where he was going, which received an excited thumbs up and soundless shriek from the blackjack table.

"Oh, hang on, Hector. I just need to stop at the prize table first," Kurt said. He may have been about to go on his first college date with Hector, but he had a stuffed dog named Elizabeth II to buy for Blaine, who, no matter how the date went, would always be there to welcome him home.

"Are you finished yet?" Kurt called through the bathroom door. It was Halloween weekend, and he and Blaine had been invited to their first house party. He was eager to leave, but Blaine was taking more than his allotted time in the bathroom to get in costume.

Neither Kurt nor Blaine would divulge his costume plans to the other, and Kurt was bursting in anticipation. Thinking he was incredibly humorous (as usual), Kurt had decided to dress as Blaine for the evening, from the gelled back hair right down to the loafers without socks.

"Fine! I'm done. Just putting on the last touches…" Kurt heard the spray of an aerosol can and then the door was opening and both boys were on the ground because they were laughing so hard.

Blaine's hair was done up in a heavily hairsprayed coif, he had squeezed himself into the tightest pair of jeans imaginable, and he wore a tight shirt complete with boots, scarf, and brooch.

"You're me!" Kurt wheezed.

"You're me!" Blaine could hardly catch his breath.

"Oh god," Kurt straightened out a minute later, wiping tears from his eyes. "We could not have planned this any better."

Blaine held him at arm's length. "You, Mr. Anderson, look dapper and handsome as hell."

Kurt smirked and looked Blaine over. "And you, Mr. Hummel, look stylish and hot as hell."

"Thank you! Wait...is that vain of us to say since we're dressed as each other?"

Kurt shrugged. "Don't care. Let's go to our first college party and have our first forbidden taste of alcohol and stay out late dancing and then stumble home holding each other up."

Blaine held out his arm to take Kurt's in their usual style. "Lead the way."

Alcohol was awesome. Alcohol made Kurt feel all warm and fuzzy and it made him really popular. Everyone kept complimenting him on his dance moves from his tabletop dance with Blaine. Speaking of, he wasn't sure where Blaine was at the moment, but he, Kurt, was currently lip-locked with a cute upperclassman who kept grabbing his butt.

Yep. Alcohol was awesome.

"Do you wanna take this back to my place?" The older guy asked in a gravelly voice that made Kurt shiver.

He was about to agree, but just then, Blaine came into view, hair disheveled and lips red and kiss-swollen. Kurt grinned. He knew exactly what Blaine had been up to.

"Hey!" he cried fondly, breaking away from his makeout partner's grasp. "There's my Blaine!"

Blaine heard his call and came over and planted a wet kiss on Kurt's cheek, slinging an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

Kurt's new friend took a step back. "Dude. Is this your boyfriend?"

Both boys in question burst into laughter.

"No! He's just my Blaine. Blaine," Kurt turned to his roommate with a wide smile and stage whispered, "This guy was kissing me! He kept touching my ass! I mean, I don't blame him. It is a good ass."

"It's a great ass!" Blaine confirmed seriously.

They snickered like a couple of school children.

"Yeah, consider my proposition off the table," the other guy backed away with a wave and a muttered "cockblock."

Still giggling over their conquests, Kurt and Blaine dragged themselves in a spare bedroom that was surprisingly and thankfully devoid of couples having sex. They'd walked in on enough of those on their way to the room they were in.

"Oh god, I never want to see those parts of a female ever again," Kurt lamented, rubbing at his eyes. "There's a reason I'm gay!"

"Yeah, but did you see that guy, though? I got a nice view of his di—"

"Blaine!" Kurt clapped a hand over Blaine's mouth before he could say anything too scandalous.

"What, Kurt? We're gay. We should be comfortable talking about dicks because we love 'em."

Kurt bobbed his head in happy agreement.

"It's true. We do love dicks," he affirmed. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "WE LOVE DICKS!"

That resulted in the two best friends in a hysterical pile on the floor, unable to stop laughing. They both tried to stop, but just when they quieted, one would let out a giggle, and it would start all over again.

When they finally settled down, they were sprawled out on the ground side by side, staring up at the ceiling, the remnants of smiles from the joke still on their faces.

Kurt, breaking the silence, turned over on his side to face Blaine and asked, "Do you ever dream up the perfect guy?"

"All the time."

Kurt bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to hear Blaine's response to his next question, but curiosity won out. "What is he like, your dream guy?"

Blaine's answer was simple. "You."

Fuck. Kurt had trained himself to the point where he was usually unaffected by Blaine anymore. There were times, of course, when Blaine just looked too gorgeous in a particular lighting, or when Blaine did something nice that proved that he knew Kurt better than anyone, and Kurt could not ignore his feelings, but for the most part, his crush on Blaine was well contained. Then there were times like these, when Blaine said or did something that made his heart leap out of his chest and into Blaine's hands, and Kurt nearly blew his cover for the strength of the affection ripping through him.

Damn it, Blaine, he thought.

"Huh," he said aloud.

"Huh?"

"Huh. Mine is like you."

"...Huh."

Kurt's stomach made a weird flop.

"It's too bad we couldn't ever be together," Blaine commented, still staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, 'cause you're my best friend."

"You're mine too. So you couldn't be my boyfriend."

"Exactly."

"Shit," Blaine sounded defeated.

"Shit," Kurt echoed.

"...Hey, Kurt?"

"What?"

"I think I am going to puke."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I want to have sex," Blaine said, sitting down on the couch next to Kurt at a friend's party a month later.

Kurt looked around, confused, but nobody was nearby. "Uh...with whom?"

Blaine shrugged. "I don't know yet. But I want to have sex. Don't you?"

"Well yes, someday. When I find the right person."

"What's the most you've ever done with a guy?"

Kurt took a long swig of his beer to steel himself. "Are we really having this talk right now?"

Blaine nodded happily. "If we can't talk to each other about it, who can we talk to?"

"I guess," Kurt agreed reluctantly. "I sort of feel like we need to get very manly for this conversation. What's something manly we can do?"

"Call each other by our last names?"

"Genius, Anderson."

Blaine clapped his hands together and bounced up and down in his seat in delight. "Oh, I like it! That's cute when you call me that."

"That's not what I was going for," Kurt wrinkled his nose in displeasure.

"Come on, Hummel," Blaine teased.

"Hm. You're right. It's adorable coming from you."

"Well, we tried. Back to sex."

Kurt rolled his eyes and crossed his legs in front of him. "You just lost all cuteness points."

Blaine angled his body toward Kurt, placing his hand on Kurt's knee. "You can't distract me forever. Answer my question, Hummel. What's the most you've done?."

Kurt stared into his cup with a blush creeping up his face before mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" Blaine leaned in closer so that his ear was right next to Kurt's mouth.

"Hand jobs," Kurt said more clearly.

Blaine sat back, nodding in approval. "Me too. And I've given a blow job, but not received."

"Really? Who?"

"The guy at that Halloween party. Although I was dressed as you, so it was hard to tell if he was into me or you…"

"Me, most likely," Kurt joked. "Mine was a guy this summer. I met him through a friend and we dated for a little while."

"You never told me you dated anyone before you came here!"

"Yeah, well I left for New York and we weren't going to see each other again, so what does it matter?"

"Did you like it?" Blaine directed the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"What? The hand job? What do you think? Did you like yours?"

"What do you think?"

Kurt laughed. He told Blaine something he had been thinking about for a while. "I mean, as good as it was, there was definitely something missing. I can't imagine that's as good as it gets."

"What do you think was missing?"

"A connection. A partner who knows me better than I know myself. I just believe that sex would be so much better with someone I love."

Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment. "You're right. I never thought about that, but you're right. You have to be."

"I do. Because I'm always right."

Blaine slapped his thigh. "Well, here's to practicing so that we're perfect when the right person comes along." He held up his beer cup for a cheers.

Kurt was fairly certain that he'd already found that person, but if Blaine was going to practice, then Kurt didn't want to be inexperienced if their time ever came. He tapped Blaine's cup with his own, drinking to the sentiment.

"Okay, Anderson. You can do this. You've been waiting, and the day is finally here. You. Are going. To be. Amazing. You're a rockstar. A sex master. Go rock his world!"

Kurt was holding Blaine at arm's length in their dorm room, giving him a pep talk for the long-awaited "sex date," as they were calling it. Both he and Blaine had been dating their guys for a couple months now, and both thought they were ready to go all the way. They had devised a plan for it to happen: Blaine would go back to his date's place for the night, leaving Kurt with the dorm room to himself.

Now they were preparing to meet their dates, and both boys were extremely nervous.

Blaine extended his arms out to wind over Kurt's and clutch onto his shoulders as well.

"And you, Hummel," Blaine said, utilizing the last name endearment that had stuck around since that first joke, "are going to blow Derek's mind. You're the Kama Sutra embodied. There's nobody better than you. He's going to come just by looking at you naked, because you are perfect. I'm assuming."

Kurt broke into fits of laughter, dissolving any nerves he had previously felt.

Blaine pulled him into a hug. "Things are so much easier when it's just you and me. Can't we just swear off all men and live together forever as old spinsters?"

Kurt's heart thudded to a stop. When Blaine said things like that, it did things to him. Slowly, his heart remembered how to beat, and he forced himself to laugh.

"We don't have to be spinsters, though. We can marry each other. That way we'd ward off any potential unwanted gentleman callers."

Blaine squeezed Kurt tighter and bowed his head to kiss his shoulder. "I'm down."

They separated, feeling much better about their dates.

"By the way," Blaine said as he walked away from Kurt. "Thanks for letting me borrow your purple shirt."

"I didn't," Kurt said in confusion.

Blaine ducked into the closet to grab the shirt and slipped it on. "You did. Thanks."

"You little shit! I guess now would be a good time to tell you that your mom sent you a new package of underwear and socks. They fit great." Kurt lifted up his shirt and snapped the waistband of the boxer briefs.

Blaine acted affronted. "How dare you? Wait until I tell my mother about this!"

"You know she'll take my side. She always does," Kurt said with a grin.

"Ugh. I changed my mind. I don't want to marry you."

"Suit yourself. In that case, I'm going out with my boyfriend to have sex." Kurt returned Blaine's earlier shoulder kiss and swiped his jacket on the way out the door. "Good luck!"

Kurt's date had not gone as planned. Instead of finally having sex, he was now sitting on his couch alone and boyfriendless.

He thought back to how things had been wrong from the first hello hug he and Derek had shared that night. Kurt was irritated right off the bat by the way Derek was wearing a scarf that he had borrowed from Kurt's closet, and he should have known right then. Derek wasn't Blaine. He never would be, and neither would any other guy. But Kurt couldn't wait around forever for an unrequited love, so he tried. But when they arrived at Kurt's dorm and Kurt made a joke about turning into an old spinster and Derek didn't understand or play along, he decided that was enough. So he'd said goodbye to Derek for the night and probably forever, and he was now watching reruns of Project Runway in his pajamas and eating ice cream out of the carton while Blaine was out getting on with his life and getting laid.

But at quarter to midnight, a key turned in the front door and Blaine stepped in carefully, covering his eyes.

"Kurt? Are you out here?"

"I'm here, Blaine." The sadness in his voice made Blaine drop his hand and look at Kurt with a frown.

"What happened?"

"It didn't work out," Kurt explained. "What are you doing home?"

Blaine slipped out of his jacket and shoes and made a face. "It didn't work out."

Kurt patted the futon next to him and held out a giant spoonful of ice cream. Blaine trotted over, mouth first, to eat the dessert, then flopped down next to Kurt, curling his cold toes under Kurt's leg.

"Ah! How are your feet always so freezing?" Blaine shrugged and wiggled his toes against Kurt's thigh. "Did you at least get to have sex before it didn't work out?" Kurt asked.

Blaine gave a sad smile. "Yeah. But you're right. There's something missing."

"Okay, there's a sandwich in there so you don't have to stop for lunch, and I slipped your favorite sweater of mine in there for the party since I know you've been dying to seduce your cousin's friend. Don't forget to tell your parents I say hi and that I love them, okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Thanks. I'll swing by and check on your dad when I'm in town, too. I'm really, really sorry to leave you alone like this. My parents have the worst timing ever."

"They can't help that their anniversary is the same weekend as move-in day. I'll be fine. Nick and Jeff said they'd help."

"I wish you could come with me," Blaine pouted.

"Me too. Next time."

"This will be the longest we've ever gone without seeing each other since we met."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

An evil grin crossed Blaine's face. "Maybe."

"Well stop it!"

"Okay, okay. I'll call when I get there."

"Next time I see you we will be sophomores, and we will have our own apartment. One that you've given me permission to decorate myself since you're leaving me alone to move," Kurt gloated.

"Don't make me regret it."

Kurt laughed and kissed Blaine's cheek, pushing his messenger bag into his hands. "Drive safe. Love you, Anderson."

"Love you, Hummel. See you in two weeks."