Same warnings/disclosures from Chapter 1 apply


On Tuesday morning, Kurt realized he was incredibly bored. He'd taken a shower, gotten dressed in fairly nice clothes, and put on the medicine to make sure the cuts on his face didn't scar, along with concealer to cover his slowly healing bruises, but now he had nothing to do.

Sunday, he'd spent with Paul, going over Kurt's new and improved skin care routine and scheduling appointments with top notch physical therapists that wouldn't interfere with his job. They tried to further discuss how they would track down the men who had attacked Kurt, but Kurt was honestly just so fed up with the whole thing and didn't want to talk about it anymore. And when the topic of a nose job came up, Kurt skirted past it by claiming he was just going to wait a while to see if it might heal itself, but both Paul and himself secretly knew that wasn't going to work. Monday, he went to his first physical therapy session and stood by as Paul made appropriate phone calls to the people in his agency to tell them about what had happened, accepting 'Get Well Soon's from just about every person.

But when Tuesday rolled around, Kurt had a completely free schedule, and he might've just taken the day for himself if he didn't have a little bug in the back of his mind telling him to talk to Blaine. He hadn't since Sunday morning, and he was beginning to feel that sort of guilty itch that only ever happened for Blaine.

Sitting with his legs crossed on his bed, he picked up his phone, scrolled through his contacts, clicked on Blaayne, and put the phone to his ear when it began to ring.

"Hello," Blaine's voice came from the other end, muffled a bit and probably on a bluetooth.

"Hey," Kurt said, as nonchalant as possible. "What's up?"

"Um, just headed to Starbucks for some coffee."

"Oh, gross," Kurt stuck out his tongue, even though he knew Blaine couldn't see.

"Gross? But I thought celebrities lived for Starbucks."

"One; I'm hardly a celebrity. And two; do you know how much Splenda they put into their supposedly non-fat drinks? That's worse for you than real sugar." And then Kurt had the best idea ever. "No, you know what?" he began. "Take a left on 4th street and go to this little place called Urth Cafe. The coffee is practically to die for, and they are totally organic. I'll meet you there in say, fifteen minutes."

"Okay... Wait, what?"

"Eh, I was headed out anyway." And that was a lie that Blaine would never need to find out about.

"Uhh..."

"Oh, no," Kurt deadpanned. "You're not one of those name brand douche bags that only drinks Starbucks because you think it's made from holy water or something, are you?"

Blaine laughed out. "Kurt, I don't think I could afford to be a 'name brand douche bag' as you so lovingly put it."

"So Urth Cafe sounds good then?" Kurt asked, biting his lip in anticipation.

"Yeah," Blaine answered, and Kurt could practically hear him smiling. "See you there."

Kurt then hung up his phone, grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way out to his car. Driving with the boot on his left foot hopefully wouldn't be too hard, and he got in and drove off.

About halfway there, Kurt realized that for the first time in what felt like a very long time, he was happy just because he could be happy. He could easily recall being drunk happy and momentarily happy for something that happened, but this time, he was literally just happy. And why wouldn't he be? He was getting coffee with a friend in the city on a Tuesday morning. He didn't know what they would talk about or what he would order or what they would do after they drank, and although hardly a thrill to any other person, he was getting a great kick out it. He tried to convince himself that he would've been as excited to see any one of his friends, but he definitely knew that a large deal of his... giddiness came from the fact that it was Blaine he was meeting. If they were dating, this totally would've been a date.

When Kurt got to the cafe and went inside, he spotted Blaine already sitting down on one of the sofas in the corner. As Kurt approached him, he began to wonder why Blaine had chosen a sofa in the first place - they required the two people to sit reasonably close and was mostly just used by couples. Not that he minded all that much. He decided he was being silly; maybe Blaine just liked couches.

Blaine spotted Kurt coming towards him and stood up, holding a drink in his hand. "I guess I was a lot closer than you thought. I got myself something already, and you were right. It's rather excellent."

Kurt smirked, but he was actually a little upset that now he would have to stand in line by himself, and then by the time he got his coffee, Blaine would've been nearly finished with his, and then he'd probably have to run, and they wouldn't even get time to talk...

However, all he said was, "Told you! What'd you get?"

"Pumpkin cappuccino with caramel," Blaine answered.

Kurt nodded because that really did sound good. But then he felt like maybe he was making things awkward by just standing there. Should he sit down on the sofa? Was he supposed to hug Blaine first? Was it normal for two people who had almost had sex and then kissed in a pub parking lot before deciding to just be friends who sort of spooned all night to hug? Kurt guessed maybe not too many people went through that situation. "Sounds great..."

"Do you want to try?" Blaine asked, offering his cup to Kurt.

Not knowing what else to do, Kurt took the cup from Blaine and placed it to his lips.

"Careful; it's hot," Blaine warned him.

After Kurt took a sip, he handed the cup back to Blaine and grinned approvingly. "Very good, actually. I might have to get one of those myself."

"I figured you might say that," Blaine smirked and leaned over the barrier that separated the cafe from the ordering queue. "Robbie!"

A man with dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses popped his head out from behind the barista's station with raised eyebrows, nodding happily when Blaine pointed to his cup and asked for "the second one."

"Wait... how do you...?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, confused as he could be. "Don't tell me you're a frequenter of Urth Cafe..."

Blaine shrugged and miserably failed at concealing a smile. "Maybe one of my best friends is a barista here."

"I'm impressed," Kurt said honestly. "You know your Los Angeles coffee shops."

"I know my coffee," Blaine corrected him. "Some people in high school used to call me Folgers."

"Some people in high school used to call me Sweet Porcelain," Kurt said as a joke, even though it was far from being one. "Mostly just the cheerleading coach though."

"What?" Blaine said, clearly confused.

Kurt didn't have time to explain because Robbie called out Blaine's name, and Blaine offered to go get his coffee for him. Kurt took a seat on the sofa, crossing his legs out of habit, and accepting his drink with a "Thank you" when Blaine got back.

Blaine sat down next to him on the couch, and it was a lot roomier than Kurt imagined, and he was both grateful and disappointed.

"So," Kurt began, "it's Tuesday at 10:30 in the morning. Shouldn't you be at work or something?"

"I work mostly from home."

"Really?"

"Um," Blaine shook his head, laughing. "No. I don't know why I said that. It just sounded cool."

Kurt chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. Blaine was so incredibly and shamelessly flirting with him, and Kurt found it incredibly and shamelessly adorable. This was already way more fun than hanging out his house alone all day.

"Actually," Blaine continued, "I just got a new client, and this week and next are going to be constant drawing and re-drawing and planning and plotting and... yeah."

"Sounds... fun?"

"I mean, yeah, it's fun. Just stressful and tiring. Hence the caffeine," Blaine smirked, slightly raising his cup up.

"All thanks to Robbie," Kurt teased, and Blaine laughed out.

"I was literally so surprised when you suggested this place," Blaine retorted. "I mean, out of all the cafes in Los Angeles... And there has to be thousands of those. What is it with California folk and their coffee anyway?"

"You tell me, Folgers."

"Touche," Blaine nodded, taking a sip and looking down.

Kurt took the pause in their conversation to notice things about Blaine that he, at all costs, tried to avoid noticing about people in general. It wasn't something he could very well control, but he'd done a good job of training himself not to see eye color or fingernails or shoe brand. It was always much easier to forget people if he simply didn't pick up on any of their traits, and since people made a habit of not sticking around, he'd decided to let pointless habits die. But for some reason, maybe simply because Kurt truly wanted it, he felt that Blaine was one of those few people that would be sticking around. This way, noticing his vividly hazel eyes, and picked at, but not chewed, fingernails, and standard Stacy Adams, black dress shoes seemed dignified.

Kurt let his stare linger over Blaine thoroughly because it felt like there was just so much he had to notice about him. His dark, curly hair was gelled back as usual; his navy denim jeans clung tightly to his thighs as he crossed his legs; the maroon button-down's sleeves were pushed up rather messily to just before Blaine's elbows. Overall, he looked rather, well, normal.

"What about you?" Blaine broke the silence, and Kurt quickly moved his gaze to meet Blaine's eyes. "Why are you getting coffee at 10:30 on a Tuesday morning?"

Kurt shrugged passively, and didn't really think about it when he answered, "Because you are."

Blaine thought about it though; it was plain to see on his face: eyes wide and mouth parted ever so slightly in the middle. Kurt quickly wanted the moment to be over.

"I realized," Kurt did his best to change the subject, looking down at his cappuccino for a second, "that we really haven't yet made a dent in our game of 20 Questions. But the problem is I can't really continue with that yet because I'm quite certain it's your turn to ask." When he looked back up at Blaine, the look of surprise on his face had vanished, and he was laughing to himself.

"Oh, um... Okay," Blaine said, preparing a question to ask. "Who is your... idol? Who do you look up to, so to speak?"

"Hmm," Kurt thought. It'd most likely been since middle school since someone had asked him that question, so he was definitely thinking on his feet. No one in particular came straight to his mind, and he knew the standard answer was like Martin Luther King Jr. or his parents, but they were all dead, so Kurt didn't think they really qualified. "Does Lady Gaga count?"

"Of course!"

"Then her," Kurt nodded, but was still trying to think of someone better. It was sort of frustrating him that there was literally no one he had to look up to because it wasn't at all as if he thought he deserved to be idolized. In a world of important people, he was definitely not one of them. "Yeah. Or Oprah."

Blaine nodded approvingly. "Another palpable candidate and amazing woman."

Kurt half-smiled and tried to forget about it. He didn't have to have an idol if he didn't want one. Fuck "important people" anyway; he was as important as anyone else. Looking at Blaine, he took a deep breath and thought of a random question. "Do you have any pets?"

"I do," he nodded and smacked his lips. "She's a little, blonde tabby cat that sheds like crazy, sleeps more than any other cat I've ever seen, and will only let you pet her if you bribe her with catnip."

"She sounds like a treat," Kurt grinned sarcastically.

"She is; she is. After all, it's why I named her Chelsea Handler."

"Oh, my God," Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "That actually sounds just like her."

"Precisely," Blaine smirked and then narrowed his eyes as if there was something he wanted to ask Kurt, but he licked his lips and ended up deciding against it. "So... what... are you going to be for Halloween?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side. "It's the middle of September."

"So?" Blaine asked with a smile. "I have my costume picked out."

"Let me guess. A fresh out of college interior designer with a coffee addiction?"

"No," Blaine rolled his eyes playfully. "But that's what you should go as."

Kurt barked out a laugh, but shook his head. "Unfortunately, with the people at the Halloween parties I go to, you have to be a little more obvious with your costume. And a lot more slutty."

"Well," Blaine shrugged a shoulder and scrunched up his nose.

Kurt knew how hard he was smiling and quite honestly, he didn't want to ever not be smiling that hard again. It was almost as if he was having the revelation that if you're not happy, why even live? As cheesy as it sounded, that's just exactly how he felt. "Seriously though, what are you going as?"

"First, I'm considering counting that as your question-"

"You shouldn't."

"-and secondly... a sushi roll."

Kurt thought about that for a moment before approving. "That's... actually pretty genius if you can pull it off."

"Oh, I can," Blaine brought his cup to his lips, but didn't take a sip. "Wait a second." He set his cup down on the small, wooden table in front of them and reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone. "I think I have a picture..." He began flipping through his photos, sighing after about twenty seconds of not finding the right one.

Kurt watched in anticipation and admiration. Blaine was so normal, so completely down-to-earth and humble, yet he still fascinated him. It was like Kurt had gone on for so long thinking that anyone who didn't own a sports car or go to Hollywood-thrown parties was a waste of a human being. Blaine was quite literally changing his mind, and Kurt didn't doubt that it was for the better.

"Dammit," Blaine muttered. "It's not on here, but I assure you I will look so much like sushi that fish are going to think I'm related to them."

"Uh-huh," Kurt said doubtingly.

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I find highly suspicious that you couldn't find the picture." Kurt was joking, but it was clearly making Blaine antsy, and it was altogether rather hilarious.

"I- oh, my God. I. Am being. Serious."

"Whatever you say, Anderson," Kurt tilted his head back and took a long sip of his coffee.

"I have it at my house!" Blaine argued, trying desperately to win such a silly argument.

Kurt paused and didn't even realize where this was going when he asked it. "Are you suggesting we go see it?"

"I-If you want," Blaine raised his pitch slightly at the end, making it sound more like a question than an actual statement.

Kurt was calm, but only because he didn't have time to freak out about it. Secretly, his head was reeling with excitement and confusion and nerves. "Okay."

"Okay?" Blaine asked cautiously, watching Kurt stand up, chug back the rest of his cappuccino, and toss it in the trashcan.

"Sure," Kurt shrugged. "I'm not busy."

"Okay," Blaine repeated, grabbing his coffee and wallet off the table and following Kurt outside.

Blaine lived about twenty minutes away from Kurt in Florence County and rented the bottom floor of a split-level home, his landlord Kia literally living right upstairs with her boyfriend Mag. Blaine said he didn't understand why they needed to rent out the other half of the house anyway since they seemed to be doing quite well off, but they were super nice and rented it to him cheap, so he had no qualms. The only thing he claimed to envy about people with their own homes was the use of the garage.

Kurt tried desperately not to judge Blaine based on where he lived, he really did. But as much as he pushed the thoughts out of his mind, he knew they were right there, finding the idea of living in the basement of someone else's house utterly impossible. He didn't know how Blaine could do it.

No one else was home when they went inside, and despite the rather impressive landscaping, the inside of the house seemed so much nicer and homelier, especially Blaine's floor. Kurt realized this was the first time he was seeing not only Blaine's real life, but also a certain aspect of his work as well. He wasn't a decorator, but it went hand -in-hand with designing, and Blaine found it to be a big part of his job.

The living room, which was the first thing they saw upon going downstairs reflected that of a very tidy, but definitely personable man. Two tan loveseats faced each other, separated by a small, square table that had a lovely blue and green tablecloth draped over it. There was a bookshelf up against the back wall and a huge canvas of Campbell's Soup Cans by Andy Warhol on the opposite. Kurt giggled a little when he saw it.

"I just love that painting," Blaine clarified. "I don't know; it's kinda funny."

"No, no," Kurt shook his head because Blaine was trying to explain something that he totally already understood. "Warhol's a genius, right? If you can make soup look cool..."

Blaine smiled so honestly, Kurt had to look away.

There was a small TV in the corner, and Kurt was in total awe that it wasn't the main attraction in the room. He actually sort of loved the idea. Also, he wondered if this was how Blaine saw every room he went into: like it was some tangible thing that could be molded and made to look like someone could actually be a part of it. Because if anything, Kurt definitely saw Blaine in the room.

He followed Blaine into his bedroom, and although much smaller than Kurt's, it was so much more obvious that someone lived in it. Stacks of books sat on the nightstand next to the small, double bed, a half-full laundry basket hung next to the door to what must've been the bathroom, even the sheets weren't perfectly tucked in. Most importantly, Kurt couldn't see a single mirror in sight. He was almost jealous of the room.

Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed as Blaine shifted through his closet to look for the costume, and there was even a smile on his face as he waited. And the weirdest part about the whole thing was that he didn't even find it weird or nerve-wracking that he was smiling so much; he just enjoyed it.

"Aha!" Blaine exclaimed, pulling out a Walmart bag from under a couple layers of clothes. "I told you it exists."

"Oh, I never doubted its existence," Kurt shook his head. "I'm just skeptical of its overall raw fishiness."

Blaine rolled his eyes with a laugh and started pulling out the attire and letting the plastic bag fall to the floor. From what Kurt could see it looked like a very large, dark green scarf, a shirt of the same color, black pants, and some pink, green, white contraption made out of packing peanuts.

"What do you think?"

"Well put it on!" Kurt instructed.

Blaine huffed and let his shoulders fall. "That requires effort."

"So does making me believe that your Halloween costume is really that fabulous."

"Fine," Blaine sighed and began walking to the bathroom.

"Aw, you're not gonna change in here?" Kurt pouted his bottom lip.

"Uhh-"

"Joke!" he claimed, laughing, but okay, a little part of him wasn't joking because if he could remember right, Blaine was actually fucking sexy with his shirt off, and it wouldn't have hurt at all to see his bare chest again.

Blaine nodded quickly and closed the door to the bathroom behind him.

Kurt sighed and fell onto his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. So he was in Blaine's house. Okay. They were not there to have sex. Okay. He was not going to take offense to random comments that Blaine may or may not make because Blaine most likely would not mean to say or do anything offense. Blaine was a nice person... Okay. Kurt was pretty sure he could handle something as simple as hanging out with a friend at their house, but he still needed to go over the checklist because, well, he hadn't used that checklist very often if at all.

A few minutes later, when Blaine came out of the bathroom, Kurt literally could not stop laughing. He had put on the clothes and then wrapped the scarf around his body, pinning it in place, stuffing the white packing peanuts into the top, behind his neck, and securing the pink and green peanuts to look like various vegetables in the sushi. It was absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm taking your laughter as a good sign," Blaine said, one hand on his hip, causing Kurt to laugh even harder because now all he thought about was Sassy Gay Sushi.

When Kurt found the ability to breathe, he sat up straight and put one hand on his forehead. "You look like a twat."

Blaine gasped, clasping his hand over his mouth. "I do?"

"Oh, my God," Kurt laughed again. "No, no, no! Not literally! How would I know! Like... like a douche bag."

"That's not any better," Blaine shook his head.

"Oh God..." Kurt said, thinking about how wrong this conversation had turned. "Now all I can think about is words like cunt, pussy... Why are there so many insults deriving form female genitalia!"

"I don't know!" Blaine laughed out.

"All there is for men is dick! And cock, I guess, but you don't ever really say to someone 'You're a cock!'" Kurt was seconds away from literally rolling on the floor laughing.

"Cock-sucker," Blaine offered.

"Not an insult..."

"Oh, my God. Let's please change the subject!"

"Good idea!" Kurt began to stop laughing and Thank God because he wasn't sure he remembered ever laughing that hard. He was sure to piss himself if it kept up for much longer. "Honestly, I just gotta give you props. You look like sushi."

"Okay," Blaine let out a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Mhm," Kurt nodded, tightlipped to not start giggling again. "But would you please change out of that thing? I can't - I can't take you seriously."

"What!" Blaine asked sarcastically, giving a little spin. "I thought we could take a walk in the park and get some ice cream... Maybe go for a swim..."

"In that thing?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "If you wanna get shot..."

"Hey, it's not racist," Blaine responded. "I'm half Asian."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his grin.

Blaine walked back to the bathroom, but he stopped in the doorway and pivoted back around. "Great, Kurt, now you've got me worried that I actually resemble a vagina."

"Jesus," Kurt laughed again. "Ask one of your straight friends or Google it or something. Hell if I paid that much attention in health class."

"I'm not the one that went through a 'butch phase,'" Blaine pointed out and closed the bathroom door, leaving Kurt alone for a few minutes once again.

Blaine spent close to half an hour explaining the project he was starting for work, and Kurt listened eagerly, watching Blaine more than the laptop that displayed blueprints and 3D photographs. Kurt honestly liked listening to Blaine talk about what he did for a living because it somehow seemed so normal, yet interesting from the way Blaine told stories about Kristy and Allen, the young couple buying their first house together, and how they were total hippies who didn't own a car and refused to meet Blaine anywhere that served meat even as a by-product in anything on their menu. Kurt laughed and noticed Blaine's crow's feet that were surely a mark of raising his cheeks too much to smile. Blaine was so real, Kurt had to constantly remind himself not to reach out and just touch him.

Kurt knew there was something special about Blaine, something he'd never seen in any other person ever, and that frightened him and made him feel at ease all at the same time. Because as well as understanding and believing Blaine, Kurt trusted him. And that was the scariest part of it all, because that ultimately led to giving power to Blaine to break the trust and in turn, break Kurt.

Blaine had saved Kurt's life, and Kurt knew that in a million years, he wouldn't be able to repay him for that. As much as Kurt hated feeling in debt, he was eternally thankful for it.

Blaine paused for a moment to look up at Kurt, and damn those hazel eyes of his. Kurt had to say something just to break the stare.

"So what do you do when you aren't working?" he half-joked, noticing how much of Blaine's time was spent on his job.

Blaine shrugged, leaning against the arm of the loveseat. "I like to read and hang out with my friends, I guess? Watch football? I used to play polo before that got way too expensive..."

"Polo?" Kurt teased. "Isn't that a little... bougie?"

"Says the millionaire!"

Kurt raised an eyebrow because, really? Blaine wanted to go there?

"It's a fun sport," Blaine defended himself, "and if it didn't cost an arm to leg to keep a horse in Los Angeles, I would still be playing with no shame whatsoever."

"Mm," Kurt shook his head, imagining Blaine riding around equestrian style and trying to play such a silly looking game that he thought only existed in England. "At least you got to wear one of those cute riding outfits. Did you play croquet too?"

"No," Blaine laughed, "but I wouldn't be opposed to learning."

"Hm," Kurt grinned, biting down on his bottom lip, and stood up off the loveseat.

He wandered over to the bookshelf and began scanning the quite extensive collection. Other than fashion blogs and gossip magazines, Kurt basically never read. He liked reading, and he could probably make time if he tried, but he always just opted out for the "easier" or "simpler" option like watching the movie based off of the book. But Blaine had obviously been a very active reader. Everything from science fiction to Shakespeare to autobiographies to romance novels rested on the bookshelf, some up straight, some leaning against others, and many just piled on top of each other. It was actually rather fascinating.

Reaching for a big, purple book near the bottom, Kurt read the front and raised an eyebrow at the title. The Complete Book of Astrology. He held it out for Blaine to see. "What the hell is this?"

"Oh, I love that book!" Blaine exclaimed, closing his laptop and setting it on the square table in front of him. He reached out his hand but didn't move from his spot on the couch. "Here, let me show you!"

Kurt was in no way going to give Blaine that book so easily. Besides it being full of absolute bullshit, Kurt simply didn't believe in astrology. It was number seven on his list.

"What sign are you?" Blaine asked when Kurt didn't move.

"No," Kurt shook his head. "You are not telling me my future."

"It's not your future, Kurt. Come here."

Kurt rolled his eyes and began putting the book back where he'd gotten it. "Whatever it is..."

"Let's see," Blaine began anyway. "You were born in March, right? So that means either pisces or aries... Aries would be the obvious choice. Quick-witted, yet quick-tempered. But I don't know, I think you're probably a pisces for the simple fact that its element is water..."

Kurt rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the fact that his mouth was slightly gaping. "You're making that up."

"I swear I'm not!" Blaine exclaimed. "When's your birthday?"

Even though Kurt was going to brush it off anyway, he was admittedly curious. Blaine either knew what he was talking about or was just messing with him, but he still answered. "March 14..."

"I was right," Blaine nodded with a self-satisfied smirk. "The sign of mystery."

"You're full of shit," Kurt said, brushing it off like he knew he would.

Blaine huffed, walked over to Kurt, and knelt down to pick up the book himself. Opening it up, he flipped around a bit until he found the section on pisces. He ran his finger quickly down a passage, scanning the text, until he found what he was looking for and pointed to the page. "See! Pisces is a mysterious and other-wordily sign," he read.

"Ugh," Kurt groaned, not finding himself mysterious or other-wordily in the least. Astrology was such a joke to him.

"Come sit down, and I'll show you," Blaine insisted, grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him back to the couch.

Kurt sat reluctantly, his left thigh, hip, and arm pressed up against Blaine's.

"Look," Blaine began, running his forefinger over the page in various places. "The pisces is the twelfth and therefore last sign in the Zodiac. It's a water and mutable sign, and it is ruled by Neptune."

Everything that Blaine said to Kurt was going in one ear and out the other. He didn't understand a word of it. "What's with the picture of the fish?"

"Well, you see they are swimming in opposite directions," Blaine explained. "Pisces often feel they are being pulled in two different ways, making it hard for them to make up their minds about the simplest of matters."

Kurt looked down at the book and huffed. He tried not to think about how that related to him, but he couldn't help it. Still, he took it all with a grain of salt. Anyone would probably think that agreed with them if they were told so by some fancy book, and everyone felt that way sometime in their life. "So how do you know all this; are you a pisces?"

"No," Blaine shook his head, almost finding what Kurt had asked funny. "No, I'm a cancer. I just know a lot about this stuff, I guess."

Kurt then looked up at Blaine and it was so clear on his face how important this was to him. After a deep breath, he nudged him a little with his shoulder. "Go on then. What else does it say about me?"

Blaine chuckled and began again. "Well, pisces are very compassionate and accepting people, and while they are very independent thinkers, they need company and guidance for their creativity to really shine through. It's said that they have the secret desire to turn their fantasies into realities - to live their dreams and connect with the world around them..."

As Blaine went on, Kurt imagined himself as the fish. The fish heading upstream was all of these things that Blaine was describing and even more - the things Kurt remembered being as a kid and in high school. However, the downstream fish was all of things that Kurt had let himself become about a pisces: oversensitive, self-pitying, egotistical. Kurt wasn't quite sure if he liked thinking about this, because what if he could never get back to the upstream-headed fish? What if he was doomed to go downstream the rest of his life?

"What does it say about you?" Kurt asked when Blaine paused.

"Oh," Blaine said, suddenly embarrassed as his cheeks flushed. "Just that cancers are kind of contradictory and moody and yeah, I don't know it's kind of..."

Kurt could tell Blaine was bluffing. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head before looking over at Blaine softly. "Show me," he instructed, glancing down at Blaine's lips before looking back up to his eyes.

"Mkay," Blaine answered quietly, flipping through the pages in the book until he reached the section on cancer.

Kurt looked down and began reading to himself. Apparently, cancers were also water signs, whatever that meant, and the picture on the page was of a crab. As Kurt read, he was completely blown away by how much it described Blaine. "This is totally you, Blaine!"

"I mean I guess-"

"No, seriously!" Kurt exclaimed and began reading a bit of what was in the passage. "'Cancers are the most kind and gentle sign of the Zodiac and are very tenacious and strong-willed. They love to love and constantly wear their hearts on their sleeves. Give a cancer time, and they will turn out to be some of the most devoted and loyal people ever...' That's you!"

When Kurt turned back to Blaine, all of what he'd just said kicked in. Saying that all of that stuff described Blaine meant that Kurt had to have been paying attention to Blaine, which of course he had been, but Blane hadn't known yet. By association, Kurt had just called Blaine gentle and kind and loving without even meaning to. "I mean, you think so, right?"

Blaine was staring at Kurt with a completely genuine smile. Kurt knew he'd caught on.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, his smile never faltering. "I mean, I don't think I would've become so interested in it if it didn't even match myself."

And as much as Kurt knew this didn't suddenly make him believe in astrology or anything of the sort, it definitely made him see Blaine more clearly, a little insight to what went on in his mind. Once again, Kurt wasn't going to deny how much he wanted to just close the small gap between them and kiss Blaine, but his checklist from earlier was on fire in the back of his mind. Just friends, he reminded himself. Friends don't kiss. That didn't mean he couldn't wonder.

"You hungry?" Blaine asked, and it was so random that Kurt wasn't sure he'd heard him right.

"Hm?"

Blaine finally broke their stare and looked down to close the book in his lap. "Are you hungry? I can make us sandwiches if you want one."

"Oh," Kurt responded, looking down to his own lap. "Fine, yeah. That sounds good." He didn't even know if he was actually hungry. He hadn't had anything to eat yet that day, but he had drunken the cappuccino not too long ago, and actually now that he thought about, he really had to pee.

Blaine was already standing next to the bookshelf, setting the book down atop an already growing stack, when Kurt went to get up.

"I'll be right back," Kurt said before heading off to the bathroom. When he opened the door, he spotted a small, fluffy kitten asleep in the sink, and he laughed when he picked her up and set her on the floor. "Silly, little Chelsea Handler," he laughed, scratching behind her ear a couple times. After relieving himself, Kurt went to wash his hands, all the while only thinking about Blaine and what a good kisser he had been, both drunk and sober. Why had Kurt even offered they be friends in the first place? Blaine would most likely have just as easily agreed to Kurt's boyfriend, and then they could've kissed all they wanted to. Oh right, Kurt thought, turning off the faucet, he didn't like boyfriends. Relationships were messy and people too often were left with broken hearts. What a shame though; he might've changed his mind for Blaine.

Every thought left his mind when he looked up to the mirror.

Kurt scowled at his reflection; the broken nose shone proudly in the light, and as the concealer from earlier was starting to fade away, Kurt's black eyes were coming back into view. He wasn't beautiful by any means of the imagination.

After considering for a moment the idea of just leaving now and spending the rest of the day where no one would have the burden of looking at him, he decided he would at least stay and eat his sandwich. But he surely wasn't sticking around to have any more urges to kiss Blaine or even think of word "boyfriend." Kurt realized what a fucking idiot he was. Blaine didn't want to be his boyfriend! He was being nice to him because he had gotten beaten up and felt sorry for him! It was the only thing that made any sense in Kurt's head. He just, ugh, he hated himself so much for thinking anything differently was going on between them.

He marched out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where Blaine was placing bread and cheese on a George Foreman Grill.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend, Blaine?" he asked randomly.

"Uh- What?"

"You're a nice guy," Kurt went on, heading further and further downstream. "You're attractive by some standards. You're not the richest guy around, but you do fine for yourself."

"Kurt, did something ha-"

"I mean, I'm just wondering what could be wrong with you to make you not have a boyfriend..." Kurt leaned against the small refrigerator and crossed his arms. "Does your star sign shit not line up right or something? Or are you waiting for 'fate' to bring you two together?"

"Kurt, stop," Blaine demanded, face constructed with confusion and what could only be anger. "You're insulting me."

"No, Blaine," Kurt shook his head cockily. "I'm just trying to figure out what makes you think you're better than everyone else."

Blaine grew solemn and his words were soft and hurt. "I don't think that."

Kurt bit his lip and let out a heavy breath. He was trying to control his rage, but it just wouldn't work. He had trusted Blaine! How had he broken that trust so easily? "Then why are you 'friends' with me or whatever the fuck you wanna call it? Huh? Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Blaine asked, clearly wounded by what Kurt was saying.

"Making me a sandwich! Having coffee with me! Everything! It doesn't make sense!"

"I don't- What? What doesn't make sense? I'm just- I thought you wanted us to be friends!"

"Oh, my God," Kurt breathed deeply. He was literally going to have to spell this out for Blaine, and with this anger, he was surely not going to be calm about it. "Why don't you get it? Blaine. I look terrible. I am ugly." The words pained Kurt so much to say them out loud.

"No, you're not," Blaine said, and it sounded so honest, but that just hurt Kurt more.

"Yes, I am! I've got cuts and bruises on my face, and my fucking nose is crooked and deformed, and I have to walk around with this boot on my foot..."

"Kurt, I don't care what you look like!"

"How?" Kurt snapped. Everyone cared what he looked like. People cared what everyone looked like! It's why Hollywood actors were pretty. It's why John F. Kennedy had been elected president. It's why Kurt got to pose in magazines and walk down runways for money.

Blaine stared at him for a moment, mouth and eyes open in concern. He swallowed before answering. "Because it doesn't matter. Because when I see you, I don't see your face or your hair or your nose. That stuff, just like, after a while, it doesn't matter."

Kurt looked up to the ceiling and forced himself not to cry. What Blaine was saying... that was the stuff from romantic comedies and fairytales. Real people didn't actually think that; there was simply no way. "I, um, I think I should head home."

Blaine nodded and unplugged the grill from the socket. "I'll walk you to your car."

In silence, they walked up the stairs and outside, Blaine one step behind Kurt the whole time. At Kurt's car, they didn't hug or kiss or shake hands. But right before Kurt closed his door, Blaine stopped him and took a deep breath.

"I meant it, Kurt."

Kurt nodded, closed his door, and drove away. He was such an idiot. Worse, he thought. He was an idiot who didn't know what he wanted. Just like the fish. He laughed at the irony.


A/N: So kind of a long chapter? I tried to shorten it, but it didn't feel right. So anyway, thank you for reading/reviewing/favoriting and all that jazz! :)