About fifteen boys gathered on the field, laughing and talking, some of them dribbling soccer balls, a few of them trying to do their homework before practice started. Blaine sat down on the grass, letting his mind drift off.

He'd been with Quinn for nearly two weeks now. There were a lot of things he liked about being with her. He liked how his friends gave him jealous looks when she stopped by his school to bring him coffee before heading off to her school down the street. He liked how she held his hand and didn't push him farther than kissing. He liked that she was patient, sweet, kind, and gentle.

Blaine checked the time on his phone; it was nearly time to start. He stood up, stretching out his legs, getting ready to run. Running was one of the best parts of soccer—the acceleration, the rush, the speed, the feeling of leaving everything behind, shedding your worries.

They took off down the path, Blaine leading them. It was a nice sound, their rhythmic footsteps smacking the pavement. The rounded the corner, past the science buildings, the tennis courts, and on to the street opposite the parking lot.

There, standing in front of the school, stood Kurt. His school books were clutched in his arms, his hair blowing around his face. They hadn't spoken since that day in the hallway, but they saw each other every day in history. Last week, Kurt had told him that he didn't need help in French anymore, politely thanked him for all his help, and then had run over to a guy waiting for him at the door.

Blaine wondered if he and that boy were together. He sighed, tearing his gaze away from Kurt, and accelerated his pace to a near sprint.

Friday night, Blaine found himself sitting in a dark theater, watching some love story Quinn had picked out. She looked lovely, wearing a piercing blue dress, black tights, and traces of makeup. He had kissed her softly when he picked her up, but she had been awfully quiet the whole drive to the theater.

"I'm going to go get some more popcorn," he mumbled, grabbing the empty bag. "Do you need anything else?" She shook her head, her eyes still trained on the screen.

The lobby was fairly empty. Blaine looked around for a moment, enjoying the silence of it. That was one thing he didn't like about movie theaters—they were too loud. He made his way over to the small line besides the concessions stand, taking out his wallet to pay.

"Hey, Blaine," a familiar voice called out to him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Turning around, he came face-to-face with Kurt.

"Hi," he tried to sound natural. "What are you doing here?"

Kurt looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh, I'm just here with a friend. He wants to see some alien/apocalypse movie," he gave a small laugh. "What about you?"

"Oh, Quinn wanted to see some romantic comedy thing," Blaine shrugged.

The two of them let out awkward laughs, both of them feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. The person in front of Blaine finished paying, and Blaine quickly asked for his refill.

"I'll see you Monday," he said, giving Kurt a little wave.

"Wait," Kurt stepped out of line and took a few steps closer to him. "Listen, Blaine, you were right. Whatever you're going through isn't any of my business and I promise I'll stay out of it if that's what you want. But I think you're a really interesting, nice, fun person, and I would love to be your friend. Just your friend. Could we just forget about everything that happened?"

Blaine felt himself start to smile. Friends would be good. "Yeah, sure, friends," he looked up shyly. "I'll see you Monday."

Monday morning, Blaine came downstairs to found Elise sitting at the table counting out her Lucky Charms. He smiled and ruffled her hair before sitting down next to her.

"What are you doing, Ellie?" He asked, his voice softening the way it always did when he talked to her. He had been almost twelve when Elise had been born. He remembered visiting his mother in the hospital and getting to hold her. She had been extraordinarily tiny; so small and fragile. She was just so innocent, so unblemished, so flawless. She was too old to be unknowing, but too young to be naïve. Blaine loved her and knew that he wanted to protect her for as long as he possibly could.

"Counting my cereal," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Do you need any help?" He asked, watching her push yellow moons around on the table. She smiled and shook her head, showing the little dimple on her cheek.

"No, but thank you for offering."

Blaine planted a kiss on the top of her curls before grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

"Mind if I sit here?" Kurt asked nervously, pointing to the empty spot on the bench. Blaine looked up from his book, quickly shaking his head.

"What are you reading?"

Blaine sighed, "Brave New World," he rolled his eyes. "I have to read thirty more pages by next period."

Kurt made a face. "I hated that book."

The two of them sat in silence for a little bit, Blaine trying to concentrate on the story, Kurt trying not to concentrate on Blaine.

"Are you going to come watch the soccer game this Friday?"

Kurt looked up, a little surprised. "Um…I don't know."

"You should. I need someone to cheer me on."

"What about Quinn?" The words slipped out before Kurt could stop them.

"Oh, she's busy," Blaine shrugged. "So, will you? Please?"

"Um, sure."

"Great!" Blaine's voice became more animated as he began to describe how he envisioned the game panning out. "And afterwards there's going to be a party at my house. Well, only if we win. Which we will, of course," he said, grinning at Kurt. "You should come."

They did win. Blaine's house was all lit up, the music was loud enough to be heard from a few blocks away, and both the Dalton boys and the Crawford girls were streaming in. His parents were okay with him throwing parties, mainly because they knew he would never do anything too stupid.

Blaine didn't care much for drinking, but he liked to dance. He didn't care with who, or to what music, but he just liked the feeling of moving. After nearly an hour, Blaine began to wonder if Kurt had come like he'd promised he would.

Making his way carefully through the crowd, he wondered throughout the house trying to find him. Across the hallway, he spotted him, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, holding a beer in one hand, his head tilted a little to the side.

"Kurt!" Blaine called, bounding over to him. "You came!"

Kurt smiled a lazy sort of smile and nodded. "Yeah," he said, giggling a little. "I promised I would, didn't I?"

Blaine could smell the alcohol on Kurt's breath, becoming more and more aware of how adorable Kurt looked with his cheeks flushed. He swallowed, hoping Kurt, or anyone else for that matter, didn't notice him blushing.

"Come dance with me," he murmured, taking Kurt's hands.

"Dance with you?" Kurt asked again. "I thought you said you didn't like me." He laughed again and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Uh, no," Blaine lowered his voice, hoping no one could hear them. "I do like you…as a friend. Remember?" Kurt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waste.

"Whatever," he said, sleepily. "Dancing with you sounds nice."

Blaine looked around the room. It was empty—everyone else was either in the living room. Sighing, Blaine slipped his arms around Kurt's neck and held him close, hoping that Kurt was too drunk to remember this the next day.