True Like
(or Looks Can Be Deceiving)

Chapter 3: Unveiled

Kurt let himself and Jack into the apartment a while later, Jack carrying a heavy sewing machine while Kurt pulled a large suitcase and carried totes filled with sewing supplies, antiseptic cream and a bottle of wine. His victory over Blaine in their afternoon sparring match had put him in a generous mood. It was hardly fair anyway, since the injured man was in no state to keep up with him.

After seeing Jack out, Kurt took his suitcase to the spare room and peeked in on Blaine, who was sleeping. Returning to his room, he unpacked and selected a change of clothes, then showered and got comfortable in stretchy Calvin Klein jeans and a deep-v Andrew Christian top, feeling more like himself in 'real' clothes. He hated looking in the mirror and seeing a boring, pompous stranger staring back, and he hated the fact that he had to change himself in order to be taken seriously. He applied moisturizer and brushed his hair back, running his fingers through it with a touch of mousse and sighing happily at his reflection.

Kurt hummed while he prepared a simple meal of chicken with vegetables and put it in the oven. Then he set up the sewing machine and started on one of Malvolio's outfits. He'd hardly gotten any work done all day, and that didn't sit well with him. As he worked, he went over his lines in his head, putting himself in Malvolio's place and feeling his emotions to better understand him.

xxxxxXxxxxx

Blaine opened his eyes to a blurry shape above him. He blinked to clear his vision and frowned at the stranger hovering over him with a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell?" He sat up quickly, pushing himself backwards on the bed and cursing loudly at the stab of pain in his leg.

Kurt straightened, cocking a brow at Blaine's reaction. He supposed it was the effect of living alone; that startled feeling of waking up to find another person right next to you. Kurt could relate to that. He hadn't had a serious boyfriend in a long time, no overnighters. During his last date he'd actually dropped money on the table and walked out of the restaurant after the guy started talking about a backstage tour and meeting the cast. He'd had the nerve to ask Kurt how well he knew Blaine Anderson, and that was the end of that date.

Blaine stared in confusion at the man standing by his bed. "Hummel?" He said it, though he didn't quite believe it.

"Of course it's me. Who else would be in your bedroom? Never mind, don't answer that. Dinner's almost ready and I thought you might like to freshen up." Kurt stood with his fingers laced in front of him, waiting for Blaine to realize his bladder was probably ready to burst and he might or might not have brushed his hair that day.

"Oh. Yeah, thanks." He made no move to get up, still stunned and frowning. "What happened to you? You don't look like yourself."

Kurt flushed and glanced away. "It's a long story. The short version is, this is me actually looking like myself."

Blaine was staring rudely, amazed this was the same person he'd known for a year. He'd always been good looking, if too serious, but this was a whole different kind of good looking. A hot kind. That shirt looked really, really nice on him. His hair was - wow. And those jeans! Those legs! It didn't seem right. Blaine looked more closely at his face. He didn't remember Kurt's eyes being that particular shade of blue-gray. No! None of that mattered, damn it. This was Hummel. Forget what he looked like, he was still the uptight perfectionist from work. Just a relaxed, sexy version of the overachiever. Shit.

"Would you please stop looking at me like that. Did you think I own nothing besides business casual? I dress like that for work. Happy? Now get your butt up before the chicken dries out and I have to sprain something else of yours."

Okay, it was definitely Hummel. That was some comfort at least. Blaine supposed he'd get used to the new look. Maybe. He threw the sheet off and swung his legs slowly to the floor. Even with the help of painkillers, he knew he couldn't walk. He looked up at Kurt, accidentally stared a little more, then raised an arm so the other man could wrap it around his shoulders and help him stand.

"How's the pain? Any better than this morning?" asked Kurt.

"Yeah, a little, thanks," Blaine replied.

"Good. We'll ice it again after dinner. Do you want to eat in bed or would you like to try making it to the couch?" Kurt helped him get as far as the bathroom counter, waiting expectantly.

"The couch would be great. I think my muscles are starting to atrophy," Blaine answered with a smile.

"After one day? Your muscles must have been in lousy shape to start with." Kurt grinned, meeting Blaine's gaze in the large mirror taking up most of one wall.

Leaning on the counter with one hand, Blaine used the other to lift his shirt up to his chest and examined the reflection of his abs. "You think so? Guess I'd better start working out then."

Kurt lost his train of thought and abruptly realized he was standing in the bathroom with Blaine, who should be able to take care of his needs by himself from here. "I'm going to check on dinner. Call me when you're finished." He quickly made his escape, ignoring Blaine's laughter.

xxxxxXxxxxx

After the long trip to the living room, Kurt helped Blaine prop up his foot with a cushion on the coffee table and brought him a plate of food and glass of wine. "Is there a movie you'd like to watch? I brought Twelfth Night with me from home," Kurt said cheekily.

"If I must. But you might have to explain the big words." Blaine looked up at him with round, liquid, puppy dog eyes Kurt hadn't been treated to before.

"Umm–" his mouth stuttered, along with his heart. "I– I'll go get it." Kurt walked quickly down the hall for the DVD, then got his own dinner, and put the movie in before joining Blaine on the couch, sitting as far from him as possible.

"Kurt?" Blaine was looking at him strangely.

"Yes?"

"Why was your DVD in the spare room?"

"It was in my suitcase."

"...You're staying here?"

"Oh. If that's all right. I planned to stay and work here until you're able to take care of yourself." Kurt pointed out the covered sewing machine by the window. "Would you rather I didn't?"

"No, of course. That's – I don't know what that is. Above and beyond, I guess. Thank you. If there's ever anything I can do for you, just say the word."

"I might take you up on that." Kurt grinned mischievously.

They watched a few minutes of the movie in silence while they ate. "Think we could do a shipwreck scene like that?" asked Blaine.

"Maybe. What if we put a big swimming pool in the orchestra pit and throw everyone in?" Kurt suggested. "I foresee a problem, though, when only a few come back out."

"Yeah. I don't know a lot of actors willing to sacrifice themselves for their art," Blaine said, putting down his empty plate. "That was delicious. You weren't kidding about not doing things half-assed." Blaine smiled, his gaze dropping unconsciously to the other's mouth.

Kurt looked away, trying not to blush at the reminder of his earlier boast. "Thanks," he said. "I used to cook for my dad. He requires encouragement to eat healthy." Kurt darted a glance and saw Blaine still looking at him. Why was he suddenly nervous around Anderson? They'd been deliberately antagonizing each other for a year. It was their thing. Man-whore, he reminded himself. He's a player, keep away. If he flirts, it's because you're the only other person in the room. "Don't you have a date tonight? I could disappear for a while if you have plans with Alan/Erin."

"Ethan," Blaine corrected, unsure why it wasn't funny anymore that Kurt thought he didn't know his date's name. "I called him earlier to cancel."

"I'm sorry. Did you tell him what happened?"

"I told him I'd sprained my ankle. He didn't ask for details." Why the hell did he admit that? "We've only been dating a couple of months. It's nothing serious."

Kurt turned to him in shock. "A couple of months? Months?" He must have heard that wrong. Didn't Blaine have a new man in his bed every week at least? Wait. "What do you mean he didn't ask for details? What kind of relationship is that?" Kurt could have bitten his tongue off. "Sorry. I don't mean to judge. Your relationships are none of my business."

"It's okay. Honestly, I'd planned to stop seeing him." He grimaced. "I should have ended it weeks ago. It's just that I hate telling someone I don't want to see him again, even if I'm sure the other guy won't be hurt. Actually, Ethan and I never should have dated. He's not my type at all," Blaine said, watching Kurt's reactions. His face was very expressive.

"You have a type? I thought you played the entire field with equal opportunity. Open-Door-Policy Anderson." Kurt's bitch voice began to leak through and he stomped it down, biting his lip. Blaine could fuck his way through New York City if he wanted to. It was no concern of his.

"It's possible I might have given you the wrong impression of me," Blaine said, choosing his words slowly and carefully.

Kurt was almost afraid to ask. "How wrong?"

"I guess I'd have to say," he winced, "completely."

"You wanted me to think you're a sleaze?" Kurt was dumbfounded.

Blaine pouted. "You think I'm a sleaze?"

"Man-whore is the term I generally apply to you, yes. You're saying that's not accurate?"

"Not exactly," Blaine admitted.

"How inaccurate are we talking, exactly?"

"My last boyfriend before Ethan, if you can call Ethan a boyfriend, I think he sees other people, was right after I started at the Big House. We went out for a few weeks before he dumped me. Another one I shouldn't have dated. I get impatient sometimes, waiting for the right guy to come along."

Kurt's breathing was shallow as he stared at Blaine in stunned silence. This was not good. He made it a rule to never develop an attraction to a co-worker and knowing, or at least mistakenly believing Blaine to be a slutty dickhead made him extremely unattractive. Take that quality away and he was left with sexy, charismatic, intelligent, funny, talented, gorgeous, available Blaine Anderson. Co-worker. I'm in trouble.

"What about you?" Blaine asked.

"What about me what?" Kurt was still lost in his own disturbing thoughts.

"Do you have a boyfriend? Or a lot of boyfriends?"

"Oh. No."

"No? Do you want to expand on that at all? I just confessed that, far from being a man-whore, I'm actually kind of a dorky romantic looking for love, and all you have to say is 'No?'"

"Y-yes." Kurt's voice didn't want to work.

"Fine. Sorry for unloading on you. Let's run some lines," Blaine tried not to sound hurt.

"No."

"Damn it! Could you possibly speak in complete sentences?" Blaine demanded, annoyed and a bit humiliated.

"I'm sorry. I- I don't have a boyfriend. I haven't had a relationship that lasted past the third date since–" he tried to remember and drew a blank. "I'm not sure how long."

"Why haven't they lasted past the third date?"

Kurt hesitated. "I don't know. I guess I just haven't met anyone interesting enough to keep seeing. If there's nothing left to talk about by the second or third date, there's no point. And my job takes up all my time, so I don't get out and meet a lot of new people."

Blaine was incredulous. "There's a constant stream of new people at the theater."

"Yes, but I don't date people I work with. It would be a distraction. And if things didn't work out, which is very likely, it would be uncomfortable working with an ex. I might end up quitting just to get away from him."

"I see. You might be right, but," Blaine shook his head in disbelief, "you could be working alongside the person you're meant to spend your whole life with. Is any job worth giving up that chance?"

"I don't know," Kurt replied honestly. "I've never thought about it like that. I've never met anyone I thought I could spend my life with."

"Maybe because you're not looking."

"Maybe." Kurt forced a laugh and wiped his moist eyes. "All this maudlin talk is bringing me down. How about another drink? I'll get the ice pack and we'll run those lines now. Okay?" He jumped up before Blaine could protest the change of subject.

A/N: Poor Blaine, sucker-punched by Kurt's uber hotness. And poor Kurt, blindsided by Blaine's fluffy sweetness. Whatever will they do?