[A/N: This was written in March, and was made AU pretty much immediately. With that in mind...]
Kurt had known that car looked familiar.
To be fair, he'd been distracted. Brittany was, two months later, still excited to have him back, and was trying to pet him as they hit up the richest neighborhoods in Westerville, cookies in hand.
Trips to New York for nationals didn't pay for themselves.
They'd been divided into groups. Finn, Tina, Mike, Mercedes and Artie had decided to work the wheelchair angle, and had taken a long street across town. Santana, Sam, Quinn (Kurt couldn't help but think Rachel had sort of planned that), Puck, and Lauren were a few streets over.
Which left Kurt, Rachel, and Brittany.
Never had Kurt texted Mercedes with such speed or frequency. In fact, he was glued to his phone, and had been for weeks, and it wasn't entirely because he was addicted to Angry Birds (although he was).
If he was honest with himself, he was waiting for a text. Or a call. Something.
Worst of all, he knew it was his own damn fault it hadn't come.
When he'd announced, right after the Warblers forfeited at sectionals, as a statement after getting flack about the male/male duet Kurt and Blaine had performed, that he was going back to McKinley, Blaine had been hurt. He'd been very hurt. He hadn't been surprised, though.
And when they'd talked about it, carefully avoiding the real issues (Why do you want me to stay? How do you feel about me?), Kurt hadn't been able to handle the pure, unadulterated understanding in his eyes, and had suggested that they take some time to adjust to things being different. Apart.
Blaine had looked like Kurt had kicked him in the stomach, and ruthlessly murdered his bunny rabbit. Kurt had started to cry, and walked out just as Blaine quietly agreed to whatever he wanted.
So he was waiting. Because he had no idea how to fix this. He was beginning to think that Blaine wasn't the only one who was clueless. Mercedes and Tina were on Team Stop-whining-and-call-him-so-there-can-be-hot-makeup-sex(whiteboy). Him pointing out that there would be no sex of any kind had precisely no effect whatsoever.
So he was waiting. And selling cookies. And trying to get Brittany to stop petting him. Which is why he didn't notice the car.
He rang the doorbell of the big house with a sigh, watching Rachel plaster on her huge fake smile.
Then the door opened and he nearly dropped the cookies.
"SPY!" Rachel shrieked.
Blaine jumped. "Um… you came to my door," he pointed out. "And you already beat us." His eyes hadn't left Kurt. "Hey."
"Hey."
Rachel seemed to have pulled herself together. She began her speech. "We're selling cookies to support New Directions, our Glee Club, in it's bid to win Nationals this year. Nationals are -"
Blaine's eyes were still on Kurt. "I know what Nationals are, Rachel. I was competing for them."
Her fake smile dipped into a frown. "Fine. We are selling -"
"How many cookies do you have?" Blaine was still staring at Kurt, and Kurt absolutely could not look away. He was wearing glasses, and in a t-shirt and jeans, his hair was messy, and Kurt had never wanted anyone or anything more in his life.
"About thirty," Brittany supplied. "Some of them are squished, because I sat on them in the car, but they still taste good. They were in the box. Except, you like boys, don't you. Would you like Kurt to sit on them for you?"
"I'll take them," Blaine said.
"Blaine," Kurt started. His name felt foreign and familiar at the same time - a sweet relief to say again. "You don't have to -"
"How much?"
"They're two dollars each," Rachel supplied obliviously. "So that comes to a total of -"
"I got it." He pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet, which was on the table next to the door."
"I didn't know you lived here," Kurt said, feeling the need to explain. "I've been to your house, this isn't -"
"We're staying here while our house is renovated. My mom is -" He stopped, self -concious. Kurt knew how good Blaine's relationship with his mother was, and anything that caused him that much pain hurt Kurt like a knife to the chest.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Blaine smiled fakely. Kurt hated it. "Here," he handed the wad of bills to Rachel. "Good luck. Let me know if you're selling any more cookies." He hesitated, then looked at Kurt. "Let me know if… if you need anything. I miss - I - bye, guys." He closed the door, and Kurt nearly collapsed on the pavement.
"There's a hundred dollars here!" Rachel exclaimed excitedly.
"He didn't take the cookies," said Britt in confusion. "You don't think it's because he's a dolphin, do you?" She looked at Kurt. "You're a dolphin, and you like cookies."
Kurt was having difficulty breathing. "Could you guys… could you guys go ahead and meet the others? I'll - I'll be there in a minute."
Rachel opened her mouth to argue, but in a moment of true kindness, Britt grabbed her by the sleeve. She leaned forward to kiss Kurt on the cheek. "Dolphins should be happy," she smiled. "See you in a few?"
She dragged Rachel off, and turned to look at the large door again.
He took a deep breath.
He brought up his hand to knock.
The door flew open and a blue blur ran into him. "Kurt, I - ow!"
They ended up on the pavement, Blaine slightly pinning Kurt to the pavement. "Oops," Blaine blushed. "Sorry, I just -"
"I miss you," Kurt admitted quickly, before he lost the nerve, making no effort to move. "I miss you so much, and I've been waiting for you to call me, and that was stupid, because I'm the one who told you not to, and that was stupid too, and I -"
"Kurt?" Blaine was grinning down at him.
"Yes?"
"I forgot my cookies."
Kurt closed his eyes in mortification. "Oh my god, I am so sorry, I thought - I - I'm going to go die now, can we pretend like this -"
"Kurt?"
"Yes?"
"I was wondering if I could take recompense in another form. I'm kind of off chocolate today."
"What - what do you mean?"
"Well," said Blaine carefully, "how many cuddles would $100 dollars get me?" He saw Kurt's face. "I mean, if you wanted - I didn't mean - I was -"
He looked so confused, and worried, that Kurt knew exactly what to do. Not caring so much about his hair (although he was probably getting all kinds of dust in it now, could he and Blaine do NOTHING in a normal fashion?), or his clothes (admittedly, they weren't designer today - he'd been a bit depressed), Kurt brought a hand to each side of Blaine's face.
"This one's on me."
When their lips touched, they both heard the entirety of New Directions cheer and sigh in relief from the sidewalk.
Neither of them cared.
They were busy.
