Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.


Do you come here much? I swear I've seen your face before

Hope you don't see me blush, but I can't help but want you more

Baby, tell me, what's your story? I ain't shy, don't you worry

I'm flirting with my eyes, wanna leave with you tonight

So do you come here much? I gotta see your face some more

I'll never be the same, if we ever meet again

Won't let you get away if we ever meet again

This free fall's got me so kiss me all night, don't ever let me go

I'll never be the same if we ever meet again.

-"If We Ever Meet Again"


Kurt slipped into the back of his history classroom, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at being sneaky.

"Mr. Hummel," the teacher said sharply. "Care to explain your tardiness?"

"Oh," he said, halting a few feet away from his desk. "I had car trouble. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

"See that it does," the teacher said.

Kurt scurried to his desk and quickly unpacked his bookbag as the teacher turned back to the board and droned about the Civil War. He flipped his notebook to a blank page, but paused, pen poised above the paper, when he heard someone clear their throat softly.

He glanced to the side. Mercedes had her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, and her lips pursed in a clearly put-out expression. "Where have you been all morning?" she whispered.

Kurt whipped back and forth between trying to copy down the notes on the battle of Antietam and appeasing Mercedes. "Long story," he mouthed.

Mercedes did not look pleased. "Tell me what's up," she whispered.

He shook his head. "Later."

"What are you up to?" she whispered.

"Miss Jones! If you keep talking in my class, I'm going to have to write you up," the teacher threatened.

Mercedes sat up and folded her hands. "I'm sorry," she said, flashing an angelic smile. The teacher turned around, but Mercedes shot another sharp look in Kurt's direction, a look that clearly said I am going to drag this story out of you whether you like it or not.

He gulped. This was going to be interesting to explain.

At the first ring of the bell he dumped his belongings in his messenger bag and moved to bolt. Mercedes grabbed him by the arm. "Oh, no, you don't," she said. She shouldered her backpack and linked her arm through his. "Why were you late? And don't you dare tell me it was car trouble. You've been tinkering with engines since you were old enough to toddle."

He sighed. "It was not car trouble," he admitted.

"Then where were you?" she pressed.

He bit his lip as they walked towards their lockers. "You can't tell anyone," he hedged.

"I won't, I won't, just tell me," she begged.

He paused for dramatic effect and leaned against his locker. "I went to Dalton Academy this morning," he said.

Mercedes' eyes widened. "You did what now?" she demanded, her voice rising.

"Sh!" he said, bouncing on his toes. "You can't tell. I'll get in trouble."

"Oh, you are making this up," Mercedes scoffed.

He huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. "You don't believe me?" he said.

"Honey, you are the epitome of a good boy," she said. "You're so good that the baddest thing you can think of is causing a disturbance in the library."

He pouted. "It's pretty bad," he protested.

"Only for the Amish," she grinned. "So what did you really do?"

"I told you," he said, twirling the combination on his locker. "I drove to Dalton Academy, infiltrated their student body, and observed a performance of the Warblers firsthand."

"Nah-uh," she breathed.

"Yeah-huh," he countered.

Mercedes leaned against the locker next to his. "You're kidding me!" she said. "Tell me everything! What are they like?"

"They are entirely a capella," he reported. "All boys. The harmonies are so dreamy you wouldn't believe it."

"What songs did they do?" she asked.

He rummaged through his locker. "I only stayed for their first number," he said. "They did 'Teenage Dream' by Katy Perry."

"Oh hell no!" she said. "Are you serious? We would never be able to talk Mr. Schue into doing something like that."

"They were phenomenal," he sighed. "He was…they were the most engaging performers I've ever seen."

"He?" Mercedes repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Oh my god. Did you meet someone?"

"No," he said, his voice rising a little.

She smacked him playfully on the butt, making him squeak in surprise. "You are totally holding out on me," she said. "Who is? Did you talk to him?"

Kurt sighed deeply. "His name is Blaine…"

"Blaine? That's not a name, that's a kitchen appliance," she snorted. He stuck out his tongue. "Go on, tell me about him."

"He's the lead singer for the Warblers," he said, stuffing his history textbook in his locker. "I didn't know it when I talked to him, though."

"You talked to him?" Mercedes exclaimed.

"Just for a minute," he said. "I got his attention on the stairs and he…walked me over to the commons where they were performing."

"So he's nice and he's talented," Mercedes said. "Is he cute too?"

Kurt leaned into his locker. "I think I have a spare pen in here somewhere," he mumbled to himself.

"Spill!" Mercedes said. "Hummel, if you don't give me details, I'm going to mix Nair in your shampoo bottle."

"About my height, dark hair, dark eyes, really nice hands," he blurted out. "There. Are you satisfied?" "Almost," she said. "Is he gay? Because you don't need another Finn or Sam situation up in here."

He sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've been trying not to think about it." He pulled his English binder out of his locker. "But…he might…he might actually be gay."

"Why? Is this another hair suspicion?" she said warily. "Baby, I can't keep putting the pieces of your heart back together if you keep falling in love with straight boys."

"It's not his hair," Kurt said. He gripped the door of his locker. "He held my hand when he walked me to the senior commons."

"Is that for real?" Mercedes said. "Because you might actually be right about this."

He closed his locker. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'll never see him again. I mean, I'll see him perform at sectionals, but I doubt he'll remember me."

"Why don't you go back to Dalton?" Mercedes suggested.

He gaped at her. "Are you serious?" he said. "It was hard enough sneaking out of school for this. I can't do it again."

"C'mon, live a little," she grinned. "No one would ever suspect you to be skipping school. And besides, if you like this boy, you should at least talk to him again. Maybe find out his last name, friend him on Facebook. See where it goes."

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe."

"Well, if you do, let me help you plan your outfit," she grinned, flipping the lapel of his blazer. "You look like someone's schoolboy fetish gone wrong."

"I love these boots," he said. "You helped me pick these boots out."

"Yes, but I never gave you permission to wear them with bondage shorts," she said. "I'll see you at lunch, okay? We'll plan your fabulous outfit then."

"Sure," he said. "But I'm still not sure if I'll go back."

Mercedes laughed and strolled away. Kurt slid his binder in his messenger bag and turned in the opposite direction towards his English class.

A hand flew out of nowhere and shoved him in the collarbone, ramming into the lockers. His head bounced off the metal door. "Sup, homo?" Karofsky sneered.

Kurt flattened against the wall, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him. By the time he could summon enough air to shoot a reply back he was gone, vanished in a rapidly thinning crowd of students.

Kurt touched the back of his head gingerly. No blood this time, thank goodness, but he could already feel a nasty migraine forming. For a moment he thought wistfully of a school where no one gave him funny looks, where he didn't feel like there was a target drawn on his back, where a boy could hold his hand and no one would think twice about it.

His heart gave a funny leap at the thought of Blaine's big warm hand closing over his and the brightness in his eyes when he sang, as if he was purposefully trying to catch his gaze. Maybe I will see him again, he thought.


"Blaine! Hey, Blaine!"

He stifled a sigh as he surveyed the Dalton dining hall. Wes and David waved anxiously at him. "I've got to face them at some point," he mumbled to himself, and he reluctantly carried his tray towards them.

"Hey, guys," he said pleasantly as he sat down across from them. "How have classes been today?"

"Eh, they were fine," Wes said, waving his hand dismissively. "Where's the McKinley boy?"

"You mean Kurt?" Blaine said, dumping sour cream over his baked potato. "Back at his own school, I suppose."

"Is he all right?" David asked. "He seemed so upset."

"I've never seen someone tear up so quickly at the mention of a zero-tolerance harassment policy," Wes said.

Blaine sighed. "He's having a lot of trouble at his school," he said. "Apparently there's some jerk that's made it his life work to make him miserable."

"What kind of miserable?" David asked. "Is he in danger?"

"I don't think so, but…I'm not sure," Blaine said. He mashed the insides of his potato around with his fork, but he didn't bother to eat any of it. "It's obviously pretty bad, though, if he's willing to spill his guts to a complete stranger."

"I'm guessing he's gay?" Wes said.

"He said he's the only out kid at his school," Blaine admitted. He sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. "I gave him some advice, but I don't even remember what I said. Something about courage and standing up to his bullies. Stupid stuff like that."

"That's all you did?" David said. "Spout some platitudes and send him on his way?"

"Well, not quite," Blaine said. He concentrated on his baked potato. "I gave him my number."

He took a bite and glanced up. Wes and David stared at him. "What?" he asked.

"You gave him your phone number?" Wes said. "You gave him your number."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Yes, Wesley, I gave him my number," he said. "I told him he could call me if he needed anything, or just needed to talk to someone about what's going on."

"Blaine, this is a bigger deal than you think," David said. "You just gave your phone number to another boy who is also gay."

"So?"

"So this can easily be construed as flirting," Wes said.

"I'm not flirting with him!" Blaine protested. "He needs someone he can talk to who understands what he's going through."

"You're not flirting?" David said. "Then what was with all of the eyesex during the performance yesterday?"

"You know what, I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Blaine said coolly, turning back to his lunch.

"Oh, come on," Wes scoffed. "We all saw it. You come sauntering in with the McKinley boy-"

"-holding his hand, I might add," David cut in.

"And then you spend the entire song gazing into his pretty blue eyes," Wes said. "If he was a girl, you could have gotten him pregnant just with all of that eye sexing."

Blaine brandished his fork in Wes's face. "Now you're just being ridiculous," he said.

"You can't deny it," David teased. "You like that boy."

Blaine jabbed his fork in his potato. "There might be some…attraction," he said reluctantly. "But the last thing Kurt needs is a boyfriend. I just want to help him. You know. Be a mentor to him."

"Yeah, the most inappropriate mentor ever," Wes snickered. Blaine just rolled his eyes again.

"So did he give you his number?" David asked.

"He did," Blaine said. "I don't think I'll call him, though."

"Why not?" Wes asked.

Blaine shrugged. "It doesn't seem like the sort of thing a mentor would to," he said, almost slyly. "I figure that if he needs to talk to me, he'll call."

"Do you think he will?" David asked.

"I really don't know," Blaine said. "Probably not. I'll leave it up to him."

"Well," Wes drawled, "maybe you don't have to call him, but you could always text him."

"Why would I do that?" Blaine said.

"Think about it," David said. "You could just send him a message every so often. You know. Something encouraging that'll keep you on the forefront of his mind."

"You mean flirt with him," Blaine said flatly.

"No, no, just encourage him," David said.

"But yeah, it's kind of flirting," Wes said.

Blaine shook his head and looked down at his phone. His contact list was still open, and he gazed down at Kurt's number.

I never got his last name, he realized as Wes and David argued about what kind of text messages Blaine should send. I'll probably never know what it is.

Maybe he should send him a text or something.


Kurt jumped as someone grabbed hold of his arm. "Leave me alone," he said, trying to pull away.

"Dude, Kurt, it's just me," Finn said. He dropped his hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurt said, shouldering his bag. "Do you need something?"

Finn shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

Kurt brushed past him and headed down the hallway. "I have to go to class," he said in a low voice.

Finn took him by the arm again, this time a little more gently, and tugged him under a stairwell. "I just want to talk," he said.

Kurt pulled away and folded his arms over his stomach. "Finn, I told you, I'm not in Spanish class anymore, I can't help you with your homework," he said.

"It's not about homework," Finn said. "I was just wondering…is everything okay with you? Because you've been acting really weird lately."

"I'm not acting weird," he murmured, looking down at his shoes.

"You left school yesterday after the girls performed, and you didn't come back for rehearsal," Finn said. "You never do that."

"I wasn't feeling well," Kurt lied. "I had a migraine."

He was such a bad liar that even Finn couldn't believe him. "Look, if there's something wrong, can't you tell someone about it?" he said.

"I did," he said.

"Is it the private school guy you were eating lunch with?" Finn asked.

Kurt flushed. "He's a friend of mine," he said.

"Where'd you meet him?" Finn asked.

"He's…it's not important, he's just a friend," Kurt said. "Look, I really need to get to class-"

Finn stopped him. "Is he your boyfriend?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Kurt said. "No, he's not, he's just a friend." "Is he gay?" Finn asked.

"Why should that matter?" Kurt retorted.

Finn squirmed a little. "Well, maybe if he's not your boyfriend now, maybe he'll be your boyfriend later," he said. "Figure I should get mentally prepared now."

Kurt sighed. "Blaine's gay," he said. "But he's just a friend. He's just helping me."

Finn frowned. "Helping you with what?" he asked.

"Just…it's nothing," he said. "Don't worry about it, Finn. I'm fine."

Finn didn't look convinced. "That guy isn't…hurting you, is he?" he said.

"I expect this sort of conversation from my father, Finn, not from you," Kurt said, brushing past him.

"I'm sorry," Finn said. He followed him down the hall. "Don't get pissed. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Kurt stopped and sighed. "Thank you for your concern," he said softly. "I'm fine."

"But you'll tell somebody if you're not, right?" Finn urged. "At least tell that Blaine kid."

"It probably won't be Blaine," Kurt said, his lips turning slightly in a wry smile. "I don't know when I'll see him again."

"Why not?" Finn asked. "You guys seemed like you were pretty good friends when you were eating lunch together."

Kurt shrugged. "I don't want to bother him with my problems," he said.

"He skipped school to eat lunch with you," Finn said. "Seems like he doesn't mind being bothered." He squeezed Kurt's shoulder before he could pull away. "You'd better talk to somebody."

Kurt stood still as Finn walked away, lost in thought. He had called Blaine after the kiss on a spur-of-the-moment decision, and honestly he hadn't expected him to come all the way out to McKinley just to talk to him, much less help him confront Karofsky.

Maybe I could bother him again, he thought.


Blaine walked into the senior commons and dropped his bag on the floor. "Hey," he said. "Is it open house already?"

"Well, we didn't dress up as boys and sneak in here," Lucy said from her perch on David's knees.

"Sh!" Wes said. "Watching a movie. You miss one second of The Prestige, you're confused for the rest of your life."

The four of them sprawled out on the couch. Blaine grinned and settled in between the couples, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Am I interrupting anything salacious?" he inquired.

"Well, you would, if Wesley wasn't such a movie Nazi," Jo grinned.

"You can't make out and watch a Christopher Nolan film at the same time, Joanna," Wes argued.

"They're not having any problem with it," Jo said, jabbing her thumb in the general direction of David and Lucy. She leaned over and kissed Blaine on the cheek. "So where have you been? Out of uniform, no less."

He cleared his throat. "I went to see a show," he said.

"By yourself?" Jo said.

"Geez, Blaine, that's depressing," David said, pulling away from Lucy and making her pout. "We could have gone with you."

Wes frowned. "But I got you two tickets," he said. "Wasn't your sister going to go with you?"

"Francey couldn't have gone with you, she's in Kentucky at school," Lucy objected.

Jo frowned. "Blaine, are you hiding something from us?" she said warily.

Blaine squirmed. "I wasn't by myself," he said.

Wes paused the movie. "Then who were you with?" he demanded.

Blaine looked down at his shoes and mumbled.

"Kurt?" David repeated, his eyebrows shooting straight up. "You were with Kurt?"

Lucy sat up. "Who's Kurt?" she asked.

"Is this another Chad?" Jo said.

"No, no, Kurt's from a rival glee club and he spied on us a few weeks ago," Wes said.

"Oh my god, is this a Warblers spy mission?" Lucy asked eagerly. "Why wasn't I invited to help? I'm a much better spy than Blaine."

David laughed and tightened his arms around her waist. "He's not spying, he's flirting," he said.

Jo whipped around to stare at Blaine. "I'm not flirting!" he protested. "Kurt's been going through a really hard time lately. I took him to go see a show so that it could take his mind off things."

"And you're not calling it a date?" Jo said skeptically.

Blaine folded his hands and rested them on his knees. "No, I am not," he said placidly.

"What show did you take him to see?" Lucy asked.

"Rent!" Wes said gleefully. "I got him two tickets for Rent."

"You took him to Rent and you're not calling it a date?" David said.

"That is the epitome of a date," Jo said.

"What did you guys do during the sex song?" Lucy giggled.

"We watched it like two mature young men," Blaine said, keeping his eyes on the paused screen. "Now, are we going to finish the movie?"

"Not till we get more details," Jo said. "You're sure this wasn't a date?"

"I'm sure."

Lucy sidled closer. "Did you want it to be a date?" she asked slyly.

"I'm not answering that."

"Are you going to see him again?" David asked.

Blaine shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I asked him out this time….as friends, mind you. I told him that if he wants to hang out again some time that he should feel free to call me. Now can we stop talking about my non-date and watch the movie?"

"Fine," Jo sighed.

"We'll have to go back a few scenes," Wes warned, picking up the remote.

Blaine shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch as the movie started up again. It only took a few minutes, though, before he zoned out.

Kurt was the perfect person to go to a show with. He read the playbill religiously before it started, he didn't try to talk during the important scenes, and he applauded with so much enthusiasm it was almost impossibly adorable.

No, he told himself sternly. You can't think of him as adorable. That's not what mentors do.

He really couldn't help it, though. Kurt had never seen a live production of Rent before, and even if it was just a slightly lame community theater show, he spent the whole show with his eyes shining. And when they reached the scene when Angel died, Kurt unconsciously reached over and grabbed his hand.

Blaine unconsciously flexed his fingers. He could still feel Kurt's slender hand gripping his tightly. Of course, it hadn't lasted for very long. After a minute or two he had pulled away sheepishly, his eyes glued to the stage. But still. They held hands.

"Aha!" Lucy said victoriously.

"Lucy! Hush!" Wes scolded.

Lucy hopped up on her knees, waving a phone above her head. "Look what fell out of your pocket, Blaine," she teased.

"Hey!" he protested. "That's mine!"

"Ooh, he's got a text message," Jo said, reaching above his head to snatch the phone out of Lucy's hand.

"I want to see," Wes said, resting his chin on Jo's shoulder.

"Want to go to dinner with me and a friend next week?" Jo read aloud.

"Is it from Kurt?" David asked.

"It's from Kurt!" Lucy said. She grabbed Blaine by the shoulder and shook him. "Say yes! Say yes!"

"He wants you to meet one of his friends," Wes said. "That's a pretty big deal. Meeting the friends."

Jo frowned. "When do we get to meet him?" she asked.

"We're not dating," Blaine said, exasperated.

"We've met him," David offered helpfully. "He's very endearing."

"Ooh, endearing is good," Lucy said.

"Guys, let's just watch the movie," Blaine said.

"Fine," Wes said reluctantly. "We'll bother you about Kurt later."

They turned their attention back to the movie. Blaine took his phone back from Jo and turned it over in his hands, mentally debating. Yes or no? he thought.

His brain helpfully supplied him with the image of sitting next to Kurt at a restaurant, their knees bumping under the table, maybe even splitting a dessert. It was certainly not mentor-appropriate, but maybe they could have a good conversation about…well, he didn't know, gay marriage or something. Something deep.

Yeah. That could justify going out to dinner with him.

Blaine hit reply and started tapping out a message, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

"Oh my god! Blaine! Are you answering him?"

He groaned.


"So," Kurt said. "What, um…what do you think of him?"

Mercedes buckled herself into the front passenger seat. "Hm?" she said.

Kurt tapped his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. "What do you think of Blaine?" he asked.

"He's nice," Mercedes said. "I like him."

Kurt sighed heavily as he pulled out of the Breadstix parking lot. "You didn't seem like you liked him," he said under his breath.

"What?" she said. "Honey, why would you think that?"

He gripped the steering wheel. "Well, you kept zoning out of our conversation," he said. "You didn't seem very interested in him."

She laughed, and he bit his lip. "That's because you didn't need me," she said. "You guys were having plenty of fun without me butting into your conversation."

"But I really wanted you to like him," he said.

"I do," she said. "I really do." She leaned back and grinned. "Why is it so important for me to like him?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I thought he was just a friend of yours," Mercedes said.

"He is."

"A friend that you desperately want me to like?"

"I'm not desperate," he mumbled.

"Honey, when he offered you a bite of his cake, I thought you were going to jizz in your pants," she said.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "I didn't…I'm not…I don't like him like him!" he protested.

"I was this close to shouting 'mailman' at you," she grinned.

"Says the girl who was making out with her tater tots," he retorted.

Mercedes squeezed his knee lightly. "Look, Kurt, I get it," she said. "You like him. You were all over him."

"Was I?" he said, his heart suddenly dropping down to his stomach. "I was all over him? Was he annoyed? Oh, god, I wish I knew how to flirt properly…I just never get a chance to practice on anybody…"

"You were fine," she corrected hurriedly. "I don't think Blaine thought you were all over him. I just know you really well, and you are never that touchy-feely with anybody."

"Really?"

"It was adorable," she said. "So are you going to ask him out on a real date, instead of dragging me along to make it seem platonic?"

He sighed as he turned into Mercedes' neighborhood. "I doubt it," he said. "I don't know if he likes me." Mercedes opened her mouth to argue. "I mean, I don't need another Finntervention. I want to know for sure that he's interested in me before I do anything."

"Then call him up and ask him out to do something with you," she said. "Something that doesn't involve me. You'll just have to call me afterwards with all the deets."

He parked in her driveway and sighed. "You're sure I should do this?" he said.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and twisted around to face him. "Look, Kurt," she said. "I know I haven't been exactly thrilled with you spending so much time with Blaine, but I can tell you really like him. And I really think you have a chance with him."

Her words made him feel more hope than he should probably be feeling. "Really?" he said.

"Really," she smiled. "Just remember to make time for me, okay? Blaine's a pretty cool guy, but he can't replace me."

"You're right," he said. "Bowling this weekend? To make up for me ditching you last week?"

"Sure," she said. She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed her bag. "Go home and dream about Blaine."

"Okay, see you tomorrow," he said as she climbed out of the car and slammed the door. "Wait, what?"


"Blaine."

He stared at his phone.

"Blaine Anderson."

He couldn't believe it.

"Earth to Blaine."

It was over.

"Paging Blaine Anderson. Blaine Anderson, your mommy is waiting for you at the front of the store."

The phone screen dimmed; he tapped the touch screen to stare at the text again.

Something whapped him across the back of his head. "Blaine!" Wes said, shaking his stack of sheet music. "Rehearsal ended ten minutes ago! You can get off the risers now!"

"Oh," he said stupidly.

"If we don't hurry, we'll miss dinner," David warned.

"Okay," he said..

Wes shoved the sheet music into his attache case. "Rehearsal went well, but I think we could still do better for our sectionals setlist," he said.

David paused. "Blaine?" he said. "Are you all right?'

"Yeah," he said. "Why…why do you ask?"

"You haven't stopped staring at your phone for the past five minutes," David said.

Wes straightened. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Bad news from home?"

"No, no, it's…it's good news," Blaine said. He cleared his throat. "You know the jerk that's been harassing Kurt?"

"The stupid jock that won't leave him alone?" David said. "What about him?'

"Kurt's father found out about it," Blaine said. "They had a meeting with the principal and Karofsky got expelled."

"Really?" Wes said. "That's fantastic."

"Yeah, fantastic," Blaine echoed.

David frowned. "You don't sound very happy about this," he said. "Isn't this a good thing?"

"Yeah, it's great," Blaine said. He smiled. "Kurt doesn't need a mentor anymore."

Wes and David exchanged a look. "Do we need to call in the girls to talk about your boy troubles?" Wes said warily.

"No," Blaine said. He smiled and slid his phone in his pocket. "No, no, it's fine. I'll just probably never see him again."

"Aren't you friends?" David said.

"Yes, but he lives almost two hours away," Blaine said. "Every time we've hung out, it's only been because he needed to talk to me about something that was going on."

"Are you sure about that?" Wes said skeptically.

"It's fine," Blaine said. "We're friends on Facebook. I'm sure we'll keep in touch." He picked up his messenger bag. "Let's go to dinner before they run out of food."

He followed them down the hall while they launched into a deep discussion of the merits of top 40 hits versus American songbook selections for sectionals. But he didn't pay any attention to them.

I'll probably never see him again, he thought, and it made him more upset than it ought to.


It was entirely different to walk down the rotunda steps in the Dalton uniform than to sneak by in bondage shorts and sunglasses. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. He clutched his new schedule and searched through the crowds for a familiar face.

He made it to the bottom of the steps when he heard a voice behind him. "Excuse me. Are you new here?"

He turned around. "Hi," he said, breaking out into a smile.

Blaine's jaw dropped. "Kurt?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I, um…" he stammered. Blaine took by the hand and tugged him under the curve of the stairs. He took a deep breath. "I'm a Dalton student now."

"Why?" Blaine said. "I mean, I'm glad to see you, but why…"

Kurt swallowed hard. "Karofsky's back," he said.

Blaine frowned. "They expelled him."

"His parents petitioned the school board and they brought him back, just in time for the next hockey game," he said. He forced himself to smile. "My dad pulled me out of McKinley and the next thing I know…I'm here."

Blaine blinked. "Oh," he said. "Kurt, I'm…I'm so sorry that they brought him back. He's a creep, he deserved to be expelled."

"Well, you know that and I know that, but unfortunately all the school board sees is a player that can win games for them," Kurt said, trying to act nonchalant and failing. "So now I'm here."

"Are you a day student?" Blaine said.

He shook his head. "Your headmaster gave me a full housing scholarship," he said. "They're moving me into the junior wing. I get a single room. Lucky me."

Blaine blinked. "Oh my god," he said. "Wow. You're actually here."

"Yes, I am," Kurt said. He took a deep breath. "Here, and nervous."

Blaine smiled at him, his hazel eyes warm. "Let me see your schedule," he said, his fingers brushing against Kurt's as he took the paper out of his hands. "Oh, I know where that is. Come on, I'll wa;k you to class."

"Do you know a shortcut?" Kurt teased.

"I sure do," Blaine said. His smile widened to an almost wicked grin and he grabbed Kurt by the hand. "C'mon."

Kurt held on tightly as Blaine jogged down the hall, his heart skipping every other beat in his chest. I get to see him all the time now, he thought, almost lightheaded. Maybe…maybe I do have a chance after all.


Author's Notes:

OH MAH GAH they FINALLY met!

Yay.

And you guys all guessed I was going to use "Teenage Dream" for this one, right? Right? No. I'm saving that for a very special chapter.

This one was fun to write, but a little weird. Basically, I wanted to show them after every little encounter, being all like "well, you know, he's probably not interested" or "well, I just want to be a mentor." But now they're at the same school and get to spend all their time together!

Yay.

Also, the lyrics for this song were perfect. They mention blushing for Kurt and eyesex for Blaine. Awesomesauce. I love it when a plan comes together!

I hope you like this one!

Next chapter: "Pearl"