"So when do you leave?" Blaine asks.

He and Blaine are sitting in the dining hall, grabbing lunch together. They're tucked away in a corner so they have as much quiet and privacy as possible.

"My last final is the thirteenth. I'm leaving the next morning."

The last two months have flown by, with him and Blaine becoming close friends. They still go to the occasional few frat parties together, and even a few house parties, but they've expanded their extracurricular activities beyond dancing and alcohol. They go to the movies together, to museums, to restaurants. They go shopping together and take walks in different parks. They make fools of themselves on playgrounds, playing The Ground is Lava and Tag. Kurt has loads of guy friends, people to hang out with and pass the time with. But none of them measure up to Blaine.

"Okay. How many finals do you have?" Blaine asks between bites of a hamburger.

"I have two finals. The first one is during the semester, in class. The fourth."

Blaine perks up at this, grin spreading across his face.

"Awesome," he says. "So we can officially spend the last few days partying."

"Woooaaah, Tiger. I still have to study for my last final." The last thing Kurt wants is to fail his psychology class. And to be honest, it's not a class that comes easy to him. So he knows he'll have to spend at least some time in the library studying.

"Of course. But think about it. We can go out that Friday and Saturday. And even Sunday! And then you'll have a few days afterwards to recover from your epic hangover, take your test, and pack up to leave!" Blaine is waving his hands in front of him, clearly excited about his plan and the opportunity to party with Kurt, and his excitement is palpable. Kurt can't help but give in.

"Okay okay. Fine." He's trying to hold back his grin, but when he looks up and sees Blaine's smile still wide open and his eyes gazing at him, Kurt can't help but flounder, and his smile breaks loose. He shakes his head and blushes a bit. He hates how flustered he gets around Blaine.

When they get up to clear their plates, Blaine grabs Kurt's before Kurt has a chance.

"I got it," Blaine says. Walking quickly towards the disposal area. Kurt stands and waits at the table for Blaine to come back.

"So next stop? My dorm. I found this amazingly hysterical satirical movie on the fashion trends of the 80s that you have to see." He puts his arm around Kurt's waist and starts to guide him towards the exit.

It's taken a while, but Kurt is slowly starting to get used to how touchy feely Blaine is. It's still something he finds strange, Blaine's constant need to poke or pat or grab Kurt. But he no longer questions Blaine's motives or jerks away.

They make their way back to Blaine's dorm and relax together on Blaine's bed. They're sitting next to each other, shoulders touching and watching the screen that's on the dresser a few feet in front of them. About an hour into the movie Blaine rests his head on Kurt's shoulder, snuggling in. Kurt just lets it happen.


The end of the semester is a blur, and Kurt and Blaine only get to see each other in the library. They both have essays to write and projects to finish and exams to study for, and they hardly have time to fit in an actual meal, yet alone relax and hang out. So it's a blessing when the semester finally ends on Friday, and they have the entire weekend to just chill out. Finals start that Monday, but Kurt's final isn't until Wednesday, so he doesn't mind spending the weekend partying with Blaine, whose two finals are on Tuesday and Thursday.

That Friday night they go hard. They go to Blaine's frat and pregame with the brothers, playing silly drinking games like Kings and beer pong. Blaine has his Big buy him and Kurt a case of Blue Moon, two bottles of cheap wine, and a bottle of vodka. They finish off half the bottle of vodka and six of the Blue Moons just on Friday—not to mention how many Natty Lights they went through.

Kurt and Blaine spent the entire night together laughing and dancing.

"Sit! I need to sit!" Kurt grabs Blaine's arm, pulling him away from the dance floor. He miscalculates his step and slips on the wet floor, almost bringing Blaine down with him. Kurt breaks out into laughter, and Blaine hauls him back up onto his feet.

"No! No falling!" Blaine's pouting at Kurt and holding him close, his arms wrapped around his waist.

"I won't ever fall again. I promise." Kurt solemnly swears, placing his hands on Blaine's shoulders and looking directly into his eyes. "Come on. I want to sit."

They make their way through the crowd, drunk on booze and happiness and the freedom that comes only with knowing the semester is almost complete. In only a few days they will each be heading to their respective homes for an entire month.

They meander through the frat before they find the small section littered with dirty couches that are reserved for frat brothers. Blaine heads over to the love seat, whose other cushion is currently being occupied, and flops down unceremoniously, pulling Kurt with him and placing him on his lap.

Blaine nuzzles his face into Kurt's back and mutters. "Warm. And soft. You're so soft." Blaine's hands are wrapped around Kurt's waist still, keeping him secure, and Kurt just giggles.

"Blaine I am sitting on your lap let me go!" He tries to squirm away, but Blaine isn't having any of it and he just squeezes Kurt's side. Kurt lets out a loud squeak and wiggles some more, breaking down into laughter and practically falling off Blaine's lap and the couch.

Blaine's not letting him go that easily, though. "Hey! Get back here, mister." He pulls Kurt up and places him back on the couch, with Kurt's legs over Blaine's laps, so they can look at each other still and talk. Blaine's hands are on Kurt's legs, rubbing back and forth across his thigh.

"This is fun, right?" He asks.

Kurt just nods and, feeling bold, leans his head forwards and bumps his forehead with Blaine's. Blaine just grins some more.

"I'm really happy, Kurt," he says seriously, as if he is imparting wisdom upon Kurt in his drunken state. "Like really happy. And it's because of you."

Kurt just laughs some more, too drunk to pay attention to what Blaine is implying. And when he looks at Brian, who's sitting on the other side of the love seat, and all of the guys in chairs scattered around the room, he notices that they are all looking at them with puzzled faces. Some of them are shaking their heads and chuckling, and all of the sudden Kurt feels hot and overcrowded and really, really aware of his surroundings.

"I have to go," he says quickly, standing up immediately. He's shaky on his legs, and Blaine has to grab his hips to steady him. Kurt immediately goes to leave the frat and Blaine goes after him.

"Where are you going?" Blaine asks when he catches up with Kurt near the bar.

"I should probably leave, right?"

"What?! Why?!"

"Because like…that was weird. People were looking at me."

"Huh? Who was?" Blaine's face contorts. His eyebrows knitted close together as his nose scrunches up.

"The guys." Kurt shakes his hands in front of his body, indicating that Blaine should know this already.

"Oh. I was too busy looking at you." Kurt groans, because Blaine is so not understanding where he's coming from. He was just sitting on a boy's lap! In a frat! He could have gotten killed! Instead of explaining this to Blaine he just goes up to the bar and grabs a beer for himself. He thinks about whether he should grab one for Blaine, but ultimately decides that he might as well. It would give him an excuse to go back to Blaine at least.

"Come on. Let's play more beer pong." Blaine goes to grab Kurt but Kurt stops him.

"No. I don't feel like it. Want to dance?" Kurt asks.

Blaine considers it, mulling it over in his head, before ultimately shimmying right then and there.

"Not here, Blaine." Kurt laughs. He shakes his head and grabs Blaine's hand to pull him towards the dance floor, where they spend the rest of the night dancing with only a few short inches in between them.


The next afternoon he's fighting a raging hangover the best way he knows how: beer. He and Samantha are sitting in her dorm room after eating waffles and pancakes at a local diner, sipping on bottles of beer.

"So how was your night?" She asks him. They pointedly ignored all conversation pertaining to the previous night while at the diner, food being their main priority, not throwing up being their second. But with their headaches, and nausea, having since subsided, Samantha begins digging for information.

"I slept with Blaine." Her eyes bug out of her head when she hears this, and she spits the beer out of her mouth.

"Oh my fucking God no you didn't!" She puts her beer on the table and gets up from the chair at her desk and walks over to the bed, where Kurt is sitting. "How was it?"

Kurt's still playing with the label on his beer bottle when he looks up and sees Sammi's expression. "What? No! NO! Not like that! Like, slept. I woke up, fully clothed, mind you, in his bed."

"Oh," she replies, clearly not as interested now that she knows there was no nudity involved. She heads back over to the chair and sits down, grabbing her beer and taking a long sip, waiting for Kurt to continue.

"I don't really know how we ended up there, to be honest. I mean, I live right across the street. So I don't know why I wouldn't have just gone home."

"Was it awkward?" Samantha asks.

"No," Kurt says, surprised at that truth. It wasn't awkward. They woke up in an extra-long twin bed, with Blaine's roommate only a few feet away in his own bed. "It actually wasn't." He ponders what this means. He assumes it probably should have been awkward. One night stands in general are awkward, and while this wasn't a one night stand, it was still waking up hungover in some guy's bed, not remembering how he got there.

He was lying on his side, between the wall and Blaine, and Blaine was lying on his back. When Kurt woke up his left hand was on Blaine's stomach. He quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes, willing the headache to go away. Blaine was still asleep, so Kurt quietly hopped over him and onto the floor so he could grab a glass and run to the water fountain to fill it up. He grabbed one for Blaine, too, and when he came back Blaine was rolled onto his side on the middle of the bed.

"Blaine. Hey, Blaine," Kurt whispered, trying not to wake up Blaine's roommate. He looked at the clock and it was only nine in the morning, too early for even him to be awake.

"Nooooo," Blaine groaned, pulling the pillow that Kurt used and shoving it on top of his head.

Kurt just lifted up the corner of it and whispered in Blaine's ear, "I brought you water. And I know you have ibuprofen somewhere in here."

That's all it took for Blaine to slowly get up. He grabbed his glass of water and chugged it down before pointing out to Kurt where the Advil was kept. They each swallowed two without the help of water before Blaine sighed and said, "What happened last night?"

"No clue," Kurt replied. They were each both in the same clothes they wore to the party, and Kurt felt especially disgusting. "I think I'm just gonna….go," he said. He didn't want to make Blaine feel uncomfortable by just hopping back into his bed.

"Huh? What? No. Come on. It's early." Blaine moved closer to the wall and lifted up the blankets, inviting Kurt back into the warmth.

Kurt was too exhausted to think, so he just hopped back in, grateful that Blaine didn't care, and immediately passed out.

"Hello? Earth to Kurt!" Kurt's shocked out of his reverie by Sammi's voice.

"Oops. Sorry. What did you say?"

"I said, are you gonna see him again? Before the end of the semester."

"Yeah. We're going out again tonight." He finishes off the last sip of his beer, finally feeling human.

Samantha just smirks, and Kurt isn't quite sure what it means, but he doesn't feel like waiting around to find out.

"I'm gonna head back to my room. It's practically almost dinner time and I am meeting up with Blaine again to eat and pregame."

He walks out of the room, passing Samantha as she shakes her head and smiles.


"So what's on the agenda tonight?" Kurt asks, sitting down Blaine's bed. They just got back to Blaine's dorm after picking up a pizza, neither of them wanting to eat in the dining hall. It's eight at night and they haven't exactly discussed what party they are going to go to tonight.

Blaine hums, placing the pizza on his desk and grabs one of the two bottles of wine his Big bought for him, opening it with the Swiss Army knife he keeps in his pocket. He pours two glasses into mugs, handing Kurt the one that says #1 Grandpa, before fishing out two slices of pizza onto a paper plate to give to Kurt.

"I love when you serve me," Kurt says.

"Then, my friend, I will serve you 'til the end of time. Or at least until I die an untimely death." Blaine grabs his own food before telling Kurt to scoot over, and plopping down on the bed next to him. They're both at either end of the bed, knees crossed pretzel style, facing each other and eating their food.

"Anyway. Tonight? What's the deal?" Kurt licks some sauce from his finger, wishing that he had a napkin but too lazy to get up and grab one. Blaine sees Kurt staring longingly at the pile across the room and just shakes his head before getting up to grab them.

"Thank you," Kurt says, voice high and full of praise.

"So tonight," Blaine continues. "We have a few options: frat, Mark's, a random house party, or calling our friends and seeing what they're doing and just following them."

Kurt considers these options. While he had a great time at the frat last night, he doesn't think he wants to go there twice in a row. Mark's party is always an option, so he keeps that in mind.

"Definitely not a random house party," he tells Blaine. "There's no saying that we'll actually get in. Or that we'll actually find one. We could just end up walking around all night and not getting lucky."

"Alright. Random party is out." Blaine takes a huge bite of pizza, swallowing it down with some wine. "Man, this stuff is good."

"It's only good because the only thing you have to compare it to is Franzia," Kurt retorts.

"Hey! How do you know that?! I've had wine before."

"Slapping the bag, Blaine, does not count as 'having wine.'" He's staring at Blaine with his eyebrows raised, trying to make a point. Blaine just grins and leans over to poke Kurt in the side.

They dissolve into giggles while Kurt tries to scoot back as far as he can to get out of Blaine's reach, all the while shooing him away.

"Hey! Hey! You. Back on task!"

Blaine goes back to his side of the bed and lifts his hands in surrender.

"Alright. Okay." He takes another bite of pizza, chewing while he says, "Maybe text Mark? See if he's having a party tonight. If he is we can go there."

Kurt pulls his phone out so he can fire off a text before grabbing the crust of his second piece and eating it first, an odd quirk he picked up when he was a kid. He loves the crust, and sometimes he just doesn't want to wait to eat it last.

"Here." Blaine hands him his two crusts before getting off the bed and grabbing them each one more slice of pizza and refilling their mugs with wine.

"Thanks!" Kurt checks his phone after he feels is vibrating. Leaning against the wall near the head of the bed and kicking his legs out in front of him, he reads the text. When Blaine comes back he moves Kurt's legs up so he can slide under them and sit closer to him, putting them back on top of his lap—a position they've been in many a time.

When Blaine puts his plate on top of Kurt's legs, Kurt warns, "Don't get pizza grease on my jeans."

"I won't. I promise."

"Bad news though. Apparently Mark is not having a party tonight. Well, his roommate is. The hipster one. Mark and Tom are going to a different friend's place. They said we could go, though." Kurt places his phone to the side while he starts eating his third, and last, slice of pizza.

"Hmmm…" Blaine's one arm is still placed over Kurt's legs, a constant reminder that Blaine is there. "So Mark's place is obviously out. Do we want to go to a random party with them?"

Kurt considers it, mulling it around in his head, lolling his head back and forth.

"I don't know. I mean, it could be fun. We could meet new people. And I'm sure I'd know a few people there anyway. But it could also be a complete dud with just a few people hanging around. Mark didn't say 'party.' What do you want?"

"I don't know. Your choice, my friend." He pats Kurt's legs to emphasize his point. "It's either the frat or this."

Kurt thinks about it for a second before groaning and covering his face with the crook of his arm. "I can't believe I am actually saying this. But I think we should just go to the frat."

Blaine smiles a shy little smile, and when Kurt removes his arm from his face and looks at Blaine, Blaine shakes Kurt's legs a bit with his hand. "You like my frat?" He asks, his voice getting higher and hopeful at the end.

"I don't hate your frat." Kurt's cheeks blush, and he hopes that Blaine doesn't see. The thing is, Kurt actually doesn't mind Blaine's frat anymore. More often than not he has an awesome time there. Still, it's not his favorite place to go, but he finally thinks he understands why so many people want to join Greek life. Kurt actually feels accepted there. Like he's just one of the crowd instead of just standing out.

Blaine smiles again, face turned down towards Kurt's legs, where his hand is still caressing back and forth. When he looks back up at Kurt, Kurt's breath stops short. Blaine looks so good like this. So bashful and shy and cute. Kurt hardly hears it when Blaine announces, barely above a whisper, "Tonight's going to be a lot of fun."


Blaine's right. Tonight is a lot of fun. Even more fun than the night before. There's an insane bracket of beer pong going and for the first time ever, he and Blaine have won two rounds…in a row. He has spent the whole night hanging out with the brothers and joking with them and laughing with them, even high fiving and hugging a few after making really great shots.

"I'm gonna go grab us two more beers," Kurt says into Blaine's ear. Blaine's hands immediately go to his hips when Kurt leans in, and he nods his head, giving Kurt's sides a quick squeeze.

Kurt walks out of the beer pong room and towards the bar. There are a few people in front of him, mostly girls, waiting to get something to drink, so he patiently waits his turn. He's been to these parties enough times to know that all the pledges and brothers know who he is and will give him booze, so he doesn't mind waiting patiently.

While he's waiting he looks around the room and his eye catches onto someone about a dozen feet away walking towards him with a few girls. The man is tall, probably Kurt's height if not an inch or two taller, and lean. He's wearing a plain, pale yellow t-shirt with straight legged pants, and he's staring at Kurt. When he sees Kurt look him in the eye, he blushes and looks down, but keeps walking with his friends.

When he passes he gives Kurt a small smile, and Kurt just smirks back, looking the man up and down.

Finally, he thinks. A gay guy at a frat party. A good looking one, too.

He's excited at the possibility of perhaps hooking up with someone. Or having a dance partner for the night that isn't a straight brother.

"C'mon, man! Just give me a beer!"

Kurt looks in front of him after hearing an angry moan. It is coming from a short, stocky guy who is waving his hands in the air.

"Seriously! Just one fucking beer."

The pledge looks at him and says no, telling him to just leave and come back later. The guy clearly isn't listening, because he just stays there while Kurt walks around him and up to the bar.

"Hey Kurt," one of the pledges says, handing him two iced cold Natty Lights. He's about to grab them and leave when he hears the man protesting again.

"Oh. So you'll hand out beers to the faggot but not to anyone else." Kurt pauses, frozen on the spot with a beer in each of his hands. His eyes are wide open, and his mouth has fallen into an 'o' shape. He's not sure what to do, and he's never been so embarrassed. His sexuality has never come into the spotlight while at the frat, and he's not sure what's going to happen next. He's about to just put the beers down and leave when he hears the angry voice of the pledge behind the bar.

"Out. Get out." One of the guys runs out of the bar and across the room to whisper something in a few guys' ears. Five of them walk towards the bar, while the pledge that got them walks towards the beer pong room. Everyone is still talking and dancing, not realizing what is going on. And for this, Kurt is grateful. He doesn't want to be the center of attention right now. As a matter of fact, he really just wants to walk away and crawl under his blankets in his bed.

When the five guys get to the bar, the disgruntled man just groans again.

"Really?" He says. "You're seriously going to kick me out? I just wanted a fucking beer, man!"

One of the frat brothers looks at him, eyes dark and serious, and says, "You have three seconds to get out of here before we escort you out ourselves."

The guy clearly doesn't understand the gravity of these words, because he just laughs like this is the funniest and stupidest thing that has never happened and goes to walk away to the dance floor. He's stopped when one of the brothers grabs his arm and starts to push him towards the exit.

The next thing Kurt feels is a hand lightly touching his lower back. He looks to his side and sees Blaine.

"You okay?" He asks quietly.

Kurt just nods. He's feeling completely embarrassed as he watches this guy get literally thrown out of a frat, and he can't help but feel like it never should have happened. That he should have just walked away from the bar and avoided the guy so that they could both be at the party.

"You want to go back and play pong?" Blaine asks, looking a bit concerned.

Kurt just looks down at the ground before looking back up towards the exit. "I think I'm just gonna….go," he decides.

Yeah. Going home sounds good right about now, he thinks, as he sees the pledges behind the bar looking at him.

"I'll come with," Blaine says. Already guiding Kurt towards the door.

Kurt stops him, turning to look at him before saying, "No, Blaine. You don't have to. Stay and enjoy the rest of your night."

Kurt expects this to be enough to convince Blaine to stay. After all, Kurt's only going to go back to his place and sulk. Why would Blaine choose that over a party?

That's why he's surprised when Blaine looks him straight in the eyes and says, slowly, as if speaking to a wounded animal, "Kurt. If you think for a second that I am going to let you leave here alone, then you really don't know me. I'm coming with. Now—would you prefer to go to your place or mine?"

Kurt thinks about this for a second, mulling over the fact that apparently Blaine isn't going to just leave him high and dry. He knows that if he goes to Blaine's dorm then chances are he'll have to face Blaine's roommate, which normally he wouldn't care about, but right now he's not too keen on being with people he doesn't know. Mike, his roommate, didn't have any finals, so he already left for home.

"My place," he says with certainty.

He and Blaine walk upstairs to one of Blaine's brothers' rooms so they can grab their winter coats, which they stowed up there for safekeeping, before heading out. Blaine has kept his hand in contact with Kurt's body ever since the mishap, and Kurt finds it rather soothing and grounding. He's glad that Blaine doesn't care that he's gay.

They separate for a few seconds so they can put their coats on, and afterwards instead of putting his arm on Kurt's back, he grabs his hand in a loose fist, leading him towards the door and down the stairs. When they get outside it's a breath of fresh air. It's cold, but thankfully not windy, and while his one hand is nestled in the pocket of his coat, the other is kept warm in the confines of Blaine's grip.

It's about a fifteen or twenty minute walk to his dorm from Frat Row, and once they get far enough away from the frat that they're the only people in the street, Blaine opens his mouth.

"I'm really sorry about what happened, Kurt." His voice flows with innocence and hurt, as if it's something he can personally understand. As if he has been trying so hard to keep Kurt in a safe little bubble and that this is the worst way to pop it.

Kurt just shakes his head, squeezing Blaine's hand once. "It's no big deal. It's not like I haven't been called worse. And no one even realized what was happening, which was a plus. It's not like the whole party stopped to stare at me."

"But still. That never should have happened. It was totally uncalled for."

"Blaine. I know," Kurt says. Of course it's uncalled for. Of course it never should have happened, he thinks. But that's the world he lives in. Not everyone is open and accepting, people still use the words gay and faggot instead of stupid. Some people, like the guy tonight, still use those words against him, as if calling Kurt a faggot is the worst and most hurtful thing imaginable. It's kind of not, though. Kurt's heard it enough times for him to grow a hard outer shell. And after experiencing it enough times in middle school and high school, he decided to own the word. They can't use it against him if he doesn't let it hurt, if he keeps the word in his own arsenal.

"It was just more unexpected than anything. And I wasn't sure how your brothers would feel," Kurt continues, trying to form the correct words to get his point across.

"Why would my brothers care about that?" When Blaine talks, Kurt can see his breath in the air.

That's too big of a question for Kurt to answer right now. He's still a bit drunk and he doesn't feel like getting into a socio-political debate pertaining to why some guys don't feel comfortable around gay guys and others do. Instead he takes a deep breath, watching it flow out of his mouth, and stretches his neck back, staring up at the sky. Blaine stops and looks up with Kurt, their clasped hands dangling between them.

"You can see the stars from here," Kurt whispers. In order to get from the frat to the dorms he and Blaine live in, you have to walk through a fairly unpopulated area. There aren't any big buildings, and only a few small businesses that close down early. It's one of the few places on their campus where you can see the stars.

"Yeah," Blaine sighs. "You can." He laces his fingers with Kurt's, and grips on a little bit tighter. Kurt has the feeling that it's his way of apologizing for the whole night. But Kurt doesn't think Blaine needs to apologize. You can't really apologize for the world and the things that are wrong with it. He gives Blaine's hand another squeeze back—his way of letting Blaine know that he's forgiven. Blaine looks down at their intertwined hands before looking up at Kurt. When Kurt turns his head he sees the corner of Blaine's mouth has turned up into a sad yet hopeful smile. Kurt returns it, knocking his forehead against Blaine's.

They're standing close. No closer than they normally stand; just a few small inches in between them. They're still looking at each other when they separate, and Kurt sees Blaine's gaze flicker down for a second before coming back up. He doesn't have enough time to think about what he was looking at, because the next thing he knows, Blaine's other hand is on his cheek, his thumb caressing back and forth.

Kurt's not sure what's going on, but he feels rather than sees Blaine lean forward slowly, their lips connecting in a soft, sweet kiss. It last a few seconds, and when Blaine pulls back he smiles sweetly at Kurt, hand still on his cheek, and Kurt just stands there stock still, face impassive, not at all sure what to do next. He isn't normally kissed by his straight guy friends, and by 'normally' he means never.

Blaine eventually removes his hand from Kurt's face and tugs Kurt forward a bit, and they continue their walk to Kurt's place.

When they get there, Kurt gracefully removes his clammy hand from Blaine's so he can take his student ID out of his wallet and swipe them in. He keeps the ID in his hand when they get to the elevator, and eventually swipes them into his room. They stand there, in the center of the empty dorm. Blaine's looking at Kurt and Kurt's looking anywhere except at Blaine. Because looking at Blaine is dangerous. Because looking at Blaine makes his stomach swoop a bit, in a really good and not-so-good way. Because Blaine is supposed to be all that's good in the world. He is the very best of every quality combined: shyness, cuteness, acceptance, niceness. He perfectly blends anger and calmness into a concoction that only he can work—his calmness kicking in when his anger reaches its boiling point.

And now he's kissed Kurt, and practically shattered the glass window that Kurt's been looking through. Because straight guys don't kiss their gay friends. Not unless they're not so straight. And that just confuses Kurt. He doesn't want to be anyone's experiment, least of all Blaine's. Because Blaine is supposed to be everything good in the world…until he's not anymore.

So they stand in the center of the room. There surprisingly isn't an uncomfortable tension between them, and for the first time in his life Kurt almost wishes there were. He's not sure what to do next, and he's caught off guard when Blaine asks, "So, pajamas tonight? Or are you in the mood to have a repeat of last night and sleep in the same clothes we partied in?"

It's the last thing Kurt expects Blaine to say, because spending the night with Blaine is the last thing Kurt expects to do tonight. He's not quite sure how to say this to Blaine, though, so he just nods his head and opens up his pajama drawer. He normally sleeps in just boxers, but tonight that's not an option. He takes out two pairs of sweats and two t-shirts and hands a set to Blaine, who accepts them with a gracious smile.

Kurt puts his pajamas on like armor, back turned to Blaine and eyes never straying, and when he finishes, he turns around, happy to find that Blaine is fully dressed and smiling at Kurt. Kurt has to stop himself from telling Blaine he looks good in his clothes.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" It's another question Kurt's not prepared for. Spooning is definitely something he's not prepared for. And while he doesn't exactly want to be wrapped up in Blaine's arms right now, the other option seems even less appealing. He doesn't want to have to cuddle Blaine or stare at him the rest of the night, so he mutters out, "Little spoon," and watches as Blaine lifts the blankets to climb in. Kurt follows slowly behind him. Because the beds are so small, he has no choice but to push as far back against Blaine as possible so he won't fall off the bed. Blaine just lightly wraps one arm over Kurt and kisses his shoulder lightly. Kurt uses the light switch next to his bed to turn the lights off, letting out a giant exhale.

"I'm really sorry about tonight," Blaine says. And Kurt's not sure what he's apologizing for anymore. For the homophobic asshole at the frat? For the unexpected kiss that sent Kurt into a tailspin? Or for commandeering his dorm room and spending the night?

"I wish I could make the world a better place," he continues. "But I can't."

Kurt's tongue feels heavy in his mouth, so he just hums a response, and drifts off to sleep.


He spends the next two days practically living in the library, and he knows Blaine does, too. But they don't sit together, or anywhere near each other, for that matter. Blaine's next final exam is on Tuesday, Kurt's on Wednesday, and they both have to study for them. Kurt uses this as an excuse to not talk to him.

Sunday morning Kurt woke up first and got out of bed. He got dressed, packed his backpack, and ate a small breakfast. When Blaine finally awoke, Kurt apologetically told him that he had to study. A bleary eyed Blaine responded that, "Shit. I have to, too. Ugh." He got up, got into his clothes from the night before, and walked across the street back to his dorm, but not before giving Kurt a sweet smile and a quick kiss to his lips.

Kurt brushed his teeth a second time that morning.

But it's now Monday night and the only words he and Blaine have exchanged have been via text message. Blaine's sent messages asking where he's sitting, if he wants to grab food, and complaining about how studying sucks, all rife with silly smiley faces and emoticons. Kurt's responses are always clipped and short, or nonexistent.

But it's Monday night, technically Tuesday morning, and Kurt grabs his phone when it buzzes. It's another text from Blaine, but it's so much different than the other ones have been.

Did I do something wrong? Kurt reads. We haven't talked since the weekend. I didn't mean to overstep or anything, Kurt. I miss you.

Kurt just groans, packing his stuff up and leaving the library. He's not sure what to respond, but something tells him saying, yeah, you did do something wrong. I'm not gonna be your sexuality crisis, isn't the ideal way to avoid a fight. And he doesn't want to hurt Blaine's feelings. He really doesn't want to. Especially not after such a genuine message like that.

Kurt just needs time to think. He knows he does. It's just that the past two days have been really stressful with studying and he hasn't had time to process anything that happened with Blaine. He doesn't think he's ready to see Blaine yet, not before he decides what he's going to do about the situation. But he reminds himself that in just three short days he'll be headed home to Lima, Ohio, with a four week vacation where he can break things down and overanalyze as much as he wants.

So about ten minutes after he receives Blaine's text, when he's almost walked all the way back to his dorm, Kurt finally thinks he has formulated the right response and texts back, Sorry. Just been really stressed with finals.

He immediately receives a text back from Blaine.

Can I see you before break? Please?

"Ugh," Kurt groans. Plopping down on his bed. "How am I gonna get out of this one?" He asks the empty room, actually wishing that Mike were here to help him.

Don't you have a final tomorrow? He doesn't know why he says it. He knows Blaine has a final tomorrow. And Blaine knows that his is on Wednesday. But he's just trying to buy himself some time.

After my final. Please. I just want to see you, Kurt.

He can practically see Blaine's puppy dog eyes, wide and watering. The last thing Kurt wants to do is be the cause of that look. He remembers it from the first time he took Blaine to Mark's party. He just looked so sad that entire night, and Kurt doesn't want to do that to Blaine. He thinks that maybe he's the one making this whole kiss situation awkward. Maybe he's overreacting. Blaine certainly didn't seem to be. And if he were having a sexual identity crisis wouldn't he be freaking out about it? Kurt thinks. So he falls, and his resolve crumbles.

Yeah. Okay. After your final.

He immediately sends a follow up, But not for a long time. I'm sorry. But my final is at 11 the next morning and I need to cram more.

Absolutely. Blaine texts back. Just for a bit. I promise. I can't wait to see you.

Yeah. You too. It's only a partial lie, and Kurt hates that a part of him misses Blaine.


Sometimes Kurt ends up in sticky situations, and more often than not he doesn't really know how he got there.

Like that time when he ended up in the mall's security office in high school, being questioned about stealing a bra. It wasn't him, but the culprit looked just like him. It was really alarming, an hour later, when the nineteen year old female was caught and Kurt realized, at the tender age of sixteen, that he apparently did look like a woman.

It happened again when he was eighteen and woke up across State lines after drinking way too much during his first month of college. Lucky for him he was only in the back seat of a friend's Chevy and not the trunk of a stranger's van, but it was still exceedingly distressing.

And it happened again that Tuesday night when he found himself horizontal on Blaine's bed, his jeans unbuttoned and Blaine's hand caressing his stomach.

"Shirt off," Blaine gasps, leaning down to kiss Kurt's exposed collarbone. "Can I take your shirt off?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt replies, moaning when Blaine latches onto his neck, sucking hard.

Blaine lifts Kurt's shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. Blaine's shirt follows next, and all Kurt can do is gulp. Blaine is toned. Really, really toned. He doesn't have a defined six pack, or a baseball sized muscle in his bicep, but he is lean and muscular, with a lovely V-shaped waist disappearing into his jeans.

"Fuck," Kurt moans, running his hands along Blaine's chest. Blaine is straddling Kurt, sitting up, and Kurt tries to force himself into a seated position, too, but it's too hard and Blaine apparently doesn't want him to, either, because he pushes Kurt back down and goes back to pressing chaste kisses down the column of his throat. He makes his way to Kurt's collarbone and chest, and when he passes Kurt's right nipple he take it between his teeth and licks.

Kurt moans hard and deep, thrusting his hips up. He can feel Blaine hard through his jeans, and suddenly he wants more than ever to have Blaine take them off, to take everything off, so Kurt can feel his body against his.

"Off, off." He has his hands down the back pockets of Blaine's jeans, and is tugging down. Blaine just chuckles and undoes his button and zipper, pushing them down as much as he can with his limited mobility. He rolls off of Kurt, onto his side, so he can struggle off his jeans. It's no easy feat, and by the time he gets them off he screams out in victory and throws them to the ground. He's now seated on top of his knees at the foot of the bed, looking down at Kurt who is still lying down with his jeans on.

"Can I?" He asks, gesturing to Kurt's pants. Kurt just nods his head and Blaine slowly reaches out with both hands and plays with the hem of Kurt's jeans. He slowly, like a child opening up a super important Christmas gift, peels down Kurt's pants, past his thighs, past his knees, down his calves, until they are completely off and abandoned on the floor.

"I like your boxers," Blaine says, smiling. They're patterned in a blue, white, and black plaid, and clings tight to his crotch and butt. Blaine's boxers, a similar style, are just plain baby blue.

Suddenly the air seems electrified. Kurt's breathing hard as Blaine runs his hands up and down his sides, slowly putting his knee over Kurt's hips so he can straddle him again. He gives Kurt a lingering kiss, slow and chaste—all lip and no tongue—and Kurt suddenly wonders how the hell he got himself in this position. It's not something he regrets, but he knows it's something that he will.

Blaine's hands are still massaging his sides, but he's now gazing at Kurt with curiosity hidden behind his eyes. Kurt knows what he's asking, what he's thinking but not saying, and Kurt knows that if things are going to go any further then he needs to be the one who initiates it.

He takes a deep breath, and takes the plunge.

Carefully as ever, he moves his hands from his side to his underwear, cautiously pulling them down. Blaine helps take them off all the way, and Kurt then reaches towards Blaine's, taking them off, too.

Kurt's struck by how beautiful Blaine looks like this, breathing shallowly on top of him, eyes sparkling with life and trust, and he wonders why he ever thought that Blaine would take advantage of him. It's not in Blaine's genes to take advantage of someone. He still doesn't want to be Blaine's dirty little secret or hidden experiment, but he does know that he wants this. Just once. Just once, because he's horny. Just once, because it's been so long since he's had sex with someone who isn't nameless, someone he has an actual connection with. Just once, because he can see how much Blaine wants this, and Kurt really doesn't want to turn him down or create an awkward moment in the moment or in their friendship. Just this once, he promises himself, because he's already swept up into everything, and he really can't back down now.

So he leans up to take Blaine's lip between his teeth and sucks hard before slipping his tongue into Blaine's mouth. They kiss long and dirty, hips rocking against each other. And when their crotches line up, each boy moans and thrusts harder.

"So gorgeous," Blaine mumbles, leaning his head into the crook of Kurt's neck. "Been wanting to do this forever."

Kurt tries to ignore the fact that apparently Blaine has been bi-curious for a while and goes back to making out with him, slipping his hands from Blaine's thighs to his ass and squeezing and kneading. He's trying to lose himself into the touch and the physicality, how it feels to be this close to Blaine. He closes a blind eye to the emotions of it, not ready to face them yet.

They thrust against each other a few more times before Blaine comes with a broken moan, still moving and working himself through his orgasm. Kurt's still hard, and a few moments later Blaine uses his hand, splattered with come he rubbed off of Kurt's stomach, to grasp Kurt's dick and pull, jerking him off fast and quick.

Kurt's letting off little mewling sounds, eyes barely able to stay open as his toes curl.

"God you're gorgeous like this, Kurt." And just hearing Blaine say his name has Kurt coming all over Blaine's hand. They're both breathing heavily when Blaine falls down to the side of Kurt, head resting on Kurt's shoulder and arm across Kurt's stomach. After a few minutes Blaine gets up to wash his hands. He brings back a wet paper towel and goes to clean Kurt up, but Kurt grabs his wrist before he can and takes the towel out of Blaine's hand, shooting him a grateful look.

He's not sure what the protocol for this is. He's not quite sure if it's a one night stand or not. But before he can worry Blaine turns the light off and hops back on the bed, resuming his position behind Kurt and pulling him into his arms. He leaves a kiss behind Kurt's ear and heaves out a contented sigh. Kurt just stares in front of him and wonders how, once again, he's managed to get himself into a situation like this.


He hears a ringing noise and his eyes slowly open. The noise is muted and Kurt just wants it to stop so he can roll over and go back to sleep. He does just that, rolls over, when he comes face to face with last night's mistake. That's when he realizes where he is and what today is.

"Fuck!" He screams and practically falls out of the bed. He's completely naked, but he's too stressed out to care. "Fuck fuck FUUUCKK!"

He finds his pants on the ground and his phone a few feet away. His alarm has been going off for the past twenty minutes. He set it the day before so he could wake up an hour and a half before his final, effectively giving himself almost an hour of cram time before he had to take the test.

Blaine lifts his head from the pillow, barely able to open his eyes, and grunts out a garbled, "Huh?"

"I have to go. I have to go!" Kurt says, walking around the room like a chicken with its head cut off. "Where the fuck is my underwear?!" He finds it on top of Blaine's microwave and doesn't even want to know how it got there. He struggles to put his clothes on as fast as he can. His final is in an hour. He's definitely not going to have time to shower. Right now all he wants to do is run back to his room and grab his bookbag that has all of his notes in it and run to the building where his final is so he can start cramming.

"Where are you going?" Blaine looks entirely confused and a bit put off and uncomfortable, but Kurt really doesn't care about Blaine's feelings right now. He has bigger fish to fry.

"My final is in an hour!" He screams, shoving his feet in his shoes.

"Oh shit," Blaine responds.

"Yeah, oh shit," Kurt mocks, perhaps a bit rudely. "I have to run." And that's exactly what he does.

He receives a text message about a half an hour later from Blaine. Good luck! You'll do great!

Kurt doesn't bother responding.


It's three in the afternoon. Kurt is pretty sure he has failed his final. He's pretty sure he failed his final and he's pretty sure he just slept with one of his best guy friends. His bus to Ohio leaves at six in the morning and he still has to pack, which is what he's doing right now. Or at least trying to do. Really he's just angrily throwing his clothes around, too frustrated to fold anything. He knows he'll regret it if he just throws his clothes carelessly into his suitcase, but at this rate that may be what he does.

It's three in the afternoon and Kurt pretty much hates himself. He doesn't hate Blaine, which he thinks he should. But he's finally come to the conclusion that he really can't blame anyone for having a sexuality crisis. Hell, he had one, too! His was just ten years earlier.

He's startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. He opens it to see the last person he wants to see, but the first person he would have guessed.

"Blaine," he says, looking entirely unhappy.

"Hey. How was the final?" Blaine asks, apparently entirely unaware of Kurt's mental status right now.

Kurt doesn't answer. He just walks back in his room and goes back to throwing his clothes around. Blaine slowly steps in and closes the door softly behind him.

"I, uh, brought you something," he utters quietly. When Kurt looks up he sees a small cluster of lilacs that he must have missed before. He almost wants to laugh. Is Blaine seriously giving me flowers after a one night stand?

Blaine just stands there, flowers in his hand, waiting for Kurt to take them. But when he doesn't, Blaine's face falls a bit and he puts his hands back down by his side and takes a step back. Kurt's glaring at him, and by the look on Blaine's face, Blaine isn't entirely sure why.

"I can't do this, Blaine. I'm sorry. But I can't." Kurt turns away from Blaine and starts shoving stuff into his suitcase.

"Do what?" Blaine asks, confused.

"This. You. I can't. I can't be your experiment, okay? It's not gonna happen. If you want to be gay with someone then go be gay with someone else."

He doesn't look up at Blaine when he says this, so he misses Blaine's shocked face. He does, however, hear it when Blaine exclaims, "Be gay with someone? What the fuck does that mean?!" He sounds offended and still entirely confused, but Kurt doesn't want to look at him. He just wants to finish packing and sleep. He really just wants to go home and forget about this. He doesn't want to take all of his anger out on Blaine, and he still wants to think about this whole Blaine situation first, so when he and Blaine do talk about it they can do it as adults. But apparently that's not going to happen, and that just makes Kurt even more frustrated.

He groans…loudly.

"It means," he reiterates, "that if you think you're gay, or bi, or whatever, and you want to experiment, that you can't do it with me." There's a sense of finality in his tone that he hopes Blaine picks up on.

He turns around to look at Blaine after speaking, hoping that his icy glare will clue Blaine in to how serious he's being. But all he sees is Blaine looking crestfallen.

"Gay experiment? Kurt, seriously?" His voice is soft, causing Kurt to take a deep breath before he responds. If Blaine isn't yelling at him then he shouldn't yell at Blaine.

"Yes, Blaine." He goes to sit on his bed. Blaine's still standing by the door, tears threatening to fall in his wide eyes.

"Kurt, I am gay. I've been out since I was fourteen!" He tries to stress his point by throwing his hands out in front of him, flowers still there. He must finally realize that he's still holding them, because he looks at them like they're a foreign object before watchfully placing them on Kurt's desk.

"Excuse me?" Kurt states. "You've been gay this whole time and you didn't think to maybe tell me?"

"Tell you? Kurt, I've been flirting with you for months! Since the beginning of the semester!" Blaine's pleading with Kurt to understand.

"No you have not!" Kurt's still sitting on his bed. His voice has gone skeptical, because if Blaine were flirting with him he'd have known, right?

"I was your project partner in English class! I wasn't even supposed to be working with you and I bribed the professor to put me with you! You get into my frat for free! For God's sake, Kurt, we dance together! And hold hands! What did you think I was doing?!" Blaine's actually crying now. Slow tears silently falling down his face.

Kurt all the sudden feels broken. Like because he broke Blaine that he consequently broke himself as well. All of the anger he felt earlier has completely dissipated after hearing Blaine plead his case.

"I…I don't…" Kurt's not quite sure what to say. He has a headache all of the sudden. He brings his hand up to rub against his forehead, trying to process everything that Blaine just said. But it's hard. It's hard to think that maybe he is the one at fault. That Blaine has been nothing but gracious and obvious and polite, and that Kurt was too blind or stubborn to see this. That maybe he just led Blaine on for three months.

He doesn't feel well. As a matter of fact, he feels really queasy. He clutches his stomach with one arm and looks up at Blaine who is still standing by the door crying.

Blaine just shakes his head, tears matting his face, an ugly blush and puffy eyes rounding out his look. He just shakes his head, turns around, and walks out.

Kurt wasn't prepared for it, but suddenly he feels tears wet his cheeks, and he realizes that he's crying.

He doesn't whimper or moan—he doesn't feel like he deserves to. He just put Blaine through three months of hell. Hugging him and dancing with him, but ignoring any and all attempts at actually moving forward in their relationship. He invited Blaine to a party and then danced with another guy! Right in front of Blaine. He feels like the worst sort of prick.

I am the worst sort of prick, he says to himself.

He doesn't move for a long time, but eventually evening sets in and he has to get up and finish packing. He has to wake up at four-thirty in the morning in order to make it to the Megabus stop before six. He folds his clothes and grabs everything else he will need for a month back home before picking up the flowers that Blaine left on his desk. He's not quite sure what to do with them, whether to keep them or not. He knows they won't make it through four weeks in his dorm, and he doesn't particularly want them to decompose and bring in bugs, but he also doesn't want to throw them in the trash. He's about to just trash them anyway when he sees a handwritten note inside, written on a small piece of construction paper the size of a business card.

When Kurt reads the note he cries some more.

"I really fucked up," he says to himself, reading over the note again. He opens his wallet and places the message in the front compartment, right in front of his license, so he can keep it safe and always read it. He reads it one more time before closing his wallet and lying on his bed.

There's a piece of you in every single second of every single day.


Home is boring, and Blaine isn't answering any of his text messages or phone calls. Not that Kurt expects him to, but he still hopes. It hurts that Blaine is ignoring him, but Kurt assumes that he deserves it. After all, he caused Blaine enough pain for the both of them. He deserves to feel some of that, too.

His father asks him what's gotten him so down, and Kurt gives him a brief overview, telling him that he thinks he just ruined not only a friendship, but a potential relationship as well, with an amazing and thoughtful guy. His father tells Kurt that he should fight for him, and while Kurt agrees with that sentiment, he's not quite sure how to go about it. He's not really one for grand gestures, and he's not sure if Blaine is either. Instead he sighs and thanks his dad for listening.

His break isn't an entire fail, though. He actually has a lot of fun. He hangs out with all of his high school friends that he never gets to see. He shops and cooks and has an amazing Christmas with aunts and uncles and cousins that he didn't even realize he missed. He goes back to his old job at a thrift store so he can make a few bucks. All in all it's a really rewarding month. But the entire vacation has a black cloud lurking over it every time he checks his phone and his Facebook and his email, noticing that Blaine still hasn't responded. He didn't expect to be given the silent treatment for this long, but it's not too entirely unexpected. He just hopes that he can still salvage their friendship.


He heads back to school in mid-January with only one thing on his mind: Blaine. He's going to get Blaine back. At least he hopes he's going to get Blaine back. But even if he doesn't, he's going to make sure that Blaine knows how entirely sorry he is. That he's in the wrong, not Blaine. That Blaine did everything right, where it's Kurt who did everything wrong.

He doesn't know Blaine's schedule anymore, because it's a start of a new semester and that means new classes. But he does still know where Blaine lives, and where he spends a lot of his free time, and where he parties.

He's not sure if going to the frat is the best way to talk to Blaine, and he's almost certain that he wouldn't be let in anyway. Blaine's probably told his brothers all about their argument, and he's probably been banned forever. So that idea is out. So is just randomly showing up at Blaine's dorm room. He doesn't want to force himself on Blaine if Blaine isn't ready for him. He wants Blaine to want to listen to him. So he starts small.

He still continues to text Blaine occasionally, but now he's moved onto letters as well. He writes one every other day and sneaks it under Blaine's door, hoping that one day soon he'll walk into his room and accidently step on a letter of his own.

It never happens.

But he doesn't give up. He starts making Blaine mix CDs, decorating the CD and the case with silly drawings and references to their favorite inside jokes. Late nights watching romantic indie comedies from the 80s and 90s has left him thinking that this is the best way to win someone back—music. He's spent twenty dollars on blank CDs and cases, plus countless hours looking up songs and lyrics so he can give Blaine music that means the most to him—songs he wishes he could sing to Blaine. It's completely worth it, though, when he gets a text from Blaine two weeks after the start of the semester saying, You don't have to do this, you know.

Kurt almost cries from relief, but from anxiety as well. He doesn't know if this is Blaine's way of initiating contact between them or cutting it off completely. He immediately sends back a text telling Blaine how sorry he is and how he didn't mean to hurt him.

Blaine just replies, Stop repeating yourself. I've read all your texts and listened to the voicemails.

Kurt thinks this is good. At least Blaine didn't just delete them all before reading. He's not quite sure how to respond, but he assumes honesty is the best possible thing.

I miss you Blaine. So much.

I miss you too, Blaine responds, and Kurt lets out a shaky breath.

Can we hang out? I just want to see you.

Blaine doesn't respond to this for a few hours. Kurt spends the time pacing the floor of his dorm room and refusing Mercedes' invitation to dinner. When he does finally get a response, it's not at all what he's expecting or hoping for.

No. Just one simple word, and Kurt's life crumbles again.


The next few weeks go by slowly. Kurt and Blaine text occasionally. Nothing more than pleasantries, but at least it's a step in the right direction. It's one of the worst winters yet. It snows all the time, usually accumulating. Kurt hates the snow, and he hates the cold, and he hates that their University won't cancel classes unless there is a tornado. He's doubtful that they'd even cancel classes then.

He misses Blaine like crazy, and he knows that Blaine misses him, too. He's said as much, via text. But he's also told Kurt that he doesn't want to particularly see him yet. Not in so many words, though. Instead he just turns down every invitation Kurt extends. It hurts Kurt's feelings, but with every day he and Blaine text more and talk more over Facebook. So he's hopeful that very soon they'll be able to move their friendship back into actual hanging out.

It's the middle of February when Kurt gets a text from Mark asking him if he wants to go to a party with him. Kurt has nothing better to do, so he agrees and asks for details.

My girlfriend's best friend is throwing a party

He shows up at Mark's house at nine that night to pregame. He doesn't particularly want to get too drunk tonight, so he sticks to just sipping on a few beers, coasting on potential to get drunk, but never breaching that barrier.

The party is in a small house a few miles off campus that this girl shares with a few friends. They have a basement where everyone is dancing, a living room where people can sit and talk and relax, and a spacious backyard that opens up into a field.

"It's not all theirs," Mark says when he sees Kurt gazing longingly through the open back door. "They have a small plot of it. The rest is owned by like, I don't even know, a farmer? The government? It's never used though, and we sometimes camp out there. They just pretend it's theirs anyway. Everyone on this street does."

Kurt just nods along and files that information away for later, wondering if he can get away with walking the grounds at night.

The party is entertaining and there are a surprising number of people jammed into it, considering the small stature of the house. Kurt's having a bit of fun, but he's not too sure if he's completely enjoying himself yet. He laughs at peoples jokes and even throws in a few of his own. But with every couple he sees kissing or holding hands or sharing meaningful looks, he's reminded of all the things he could be doing with Blaine.

When he gets up to grab another beer from the kitchen, he's led to a huge window that overlooks the backyard. There are a few people out there sticking close to the house, clumped in small groups talking or smoking. But what catches his attention is the clear sky and the vast array of stars twinkling in it. It's much more vibrant than the clearing on campus that he and Blaine have stopped in, and all Kurt can think to do is text Blaine. He's not sure what to say though, so he keeps his phone in his pocket, recycles his bottle, and heads out the back door, intent on getting lost in the sky.

The field is completely open, and you can see on for miles into the nothingness. The property line between the houses on the street and the field is pretty obvious because of the difference in grass length—people stop mowing their lawns at the edge of their own property, leaving the field looking choppy and overgrown. While seemingly dead, some of the grass has apparently survived even the toughest of winters. Thankfully it hasn't snowed in a while, so while even though it's frigid outside, Kurt at least doesn't have to worry about getting his feet wet.

He walks for a while, until it gets dark enough that the lights from the neighborhood are just dim glows. He heads on out in a straight line, not wanting to deviate and get lost.

It's really beautiful outside, he thinks, looking up at the sky. He takes a deep breath and just lets it rest in his lungs for a bit before loudly exhaling. He just wants to scream. Scream all his frustrations away. But that would ruin the serenity that he just walked into, and he doesn't want to take his anger out on the sky.

He's contemplating what he should do next when he hears a shuffling noise. He looks around slowly until he spots a dark figure lying on the ground, surrounded by short, dead grass. Kurt slowly walks forward, not sure if it's the right choice or not, but wanting to scratch the itch that curiosity has left.

He gets closer, and he knows the person on the ground can hear his footsteps and his breathing, they have to; Kurt's not at all being subtle and the ground is crunching beneath his feet, echoing in the quiet night. When he's close enough to see distinguishing features, he lets out a short gasp.

"Blaine?" He asks. Though it's not really a question. He knows it's Blaine, bundled up on the ground and staring up at the sky.

Kurt takes another step forward until he's directly in Blaine's eye sight.

"What are you doing here?" He says.

"Would you believe it if I told you Mark and I have a class together?" Blaine looks directly into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt has never been hit with so much emotion. It's the first time he's seen Blaine's face in two months, and he's almost forgotten how much he misses those eyes. Kurt, swept up in Blaine's face, doesn't say anything, and Blaine continues. "He uh, I guess he doesn't know about me and you? He told me you were coming to this party—asked if I was going to come, too. I really wanted to see you."

Kurt doesn't know what to say, how to react. He is literally stunned into silence. But once his brain finally catches up to his mouth he's able to stutter out a quick, "Do you mind?" pointing to the ground next to Blaine.

"Not at all," Blaine replies, and Kurt slowly sits down before sprawling out on the hard ground.

They stare at the sky in silence for a long while, just getting used to breathing next to each other again. It's not incredibly awkward, but there's something between them, something that stops them from talking. Kurt's not sure where to start or what to say. He doesn't want to scare Blaine off. He's spent the last few months memorizing what he would say to Blaine if given the chance, and now none of it feels right. So he busies himself with sitting in compatible silence and looking to the sky for answers.

"See that constellation there?" Kurt points to the sky. "See that bright star there? And the three others around it, that form a square?"

Blaine nods, eyes intent on the stars above.

"Okay. Well, coming out of each corner of that box is a line, see? The box represents a body, the two lines up top represent the arms, and the two on the bottom represent legs. Now, it's hard to find, but the top corner of the left box has two lines coming out of it, and the second one is the head."

It's hard to see, it's such a complicated constellation, but Blaine seems intent on connecting the dots. After a few seconds he lets out a relieved, "Yeah."

"It's Hercules," Kurt says, putting his hand down. They stare up at Hercules for a few seconds before Kurt continues on. "He uh, Hercules, he isn't anything like the Disney movie. We all paint him out to be this strong, good looking hero, but he's flawed. He's actually a terrible, terrible person."

"How so?" Blaine prods, still looking up at Hercules.

"He killed his family—his children," Kurt corrects himself. "He went insane and killed his sons. And in order to redeem himself he had to carry out these tasks. And all we remember about him now are these tasks that he did—all these good deeds. But we always forget, or never even learn, that he's a murderer."

They sit in companionable silence for a bit, ruminating on the story of Hercules. But Kurt can't hold his tongue any longer than he already has, and he turns his head towards Blaine, so Blaine can hear everything he has to say.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. I can't…I don't even know. I was such a terrible person. And I thought that I could do all these things, like text you and call you and write you and I don't even know—send you music and that all of that would make up for the fact that I hurt you. And I just…I know it won't. But I don't know what will."

"I'm not upset with you anymore," Blaine says, turning his head towards Kurt. He doesn't elaborate, and Kurt wants more than anything for him to do just that. But he's waited two months; he can wait a few more minutes for Blaine to collect his thoughts. They look at each other, eyes never breaking, only blinking occasionally, before Blaine speaks.

"I was, for a bit. But I got over that. It was just…miscommunication. And I shouldn't have stopped talking to you for this long. It wasn't right of me—"

"—no Blaine. You had every right. I was such an assho—"

"Can you just…let me finish please?" Blaine begs, tiredness etched into his eyes like a scar. Kurt's never seen him so forlorn. He nods and gives Blaine his full attention.

Blaine looks back up at the stars. "I got over it. I was just…embarrassed. I really like you, Kurt. And I thought you liked me, too." He chokes up a bit, and it takes all of Kurt's willpower to not place his hand on Blaine's chest and rub, or to tell him to shush and relax. Blaine takes a breath to compose himself. "And when I found out that you didn't, that you didn't even realize I was gay, it just…it hurt. And I knew that if I called you back over break, or texted you, or anything, that I would have to face the fact that you knew. That you knew that I liked you. That I still do. And it's embarrassing. Everything I did last semester just embarrasses me now." He sniffles and swallows, and it should disgust Kurt but it doesn't.

Kurt's still looking at Blaine, but suddenly it's not enough. So he angles his body towards him instead, so now he's lying on his side in the freezing cold.

"Blaine." Blaine doesn't respond. "Blaine. Please look at me."

When Blaine turns his head, not his body, just his head, and looks at Kurt, Kurt can see a few tears left in his eyes. Tears that Blaine refuses to let fall.

"I still like you, Kurt." Blaine's voice is so small and sad, thick with tears and mucus.

"I really want to be your friend," Kurt says slowly, making sure Blaine understands. And he can see Blaine swallow back a sob and a few more unshed tears prickle behind his eyes. "I really want to be your best friend," he distinguishes. Blaine, shocked into silence, just nods, chest quivering with sobs that Kurt knows he won't let out—not here, not now. Kurt continues, though, before he loses his resolve. He puts his hand on Blaine's chest, rubbing back and forth, trying to get him to calm down, before he scoots closer to Blaine and whispers, for only Blaine to hear, "And I want to be more, too."

He lifts his hand from Blaine's chest to his cheek, caressing his thumb on Blaine's cheek bone. Blaine's eyebrows nearly lift up to his hairline, a few stray tears slipping out and onto his startled face. Kurt doesn't waste any time though. Doesn't let Blaine ask for clarification.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Kurt says. "Three…two…one." And he does.