A/N: I'm skiing tomorrow! I'm so excited!

So um… I posted a one-shot from Kurt's POV of his kidnapping last chapter. It's called "The Kidnapping of Kurt Hummel", for whoever's interested.

I'm not failing psych! Oh, frabjous day!

Sorry, I'd make this longer BUT I'M ON A LIBRARY COMPUTER.

That's all. I love you all, though, thank you THANK YOU for your marvelous reviews!

Darren frikkin' Criss, my best friend and I have decided, is either a robot or Jesus. He has to be one or the other. He's too perfect.

(Disclaimer of not owning Glee)

Blaine watched through slitted eyes as Kurt slipped into the room, then his eyes slid over to the clock.

12:30.

"Curfew was two and a half hours ago," he said, and Kurt jumped and cursed.

"You scared me!" he gasped, pressing a hand to his chest.

Blaine sat up, the covers falling off of him, and crossed his arms. "You're lucky I had Wes cover for you."

Kurt glanced over at the bed on the other side of the room. Wes' dark hair was barely visible poking over the top of the covers. "You're the best."

"Did you have fun with your Glee Club?"

"Not mine anymore," Kurt reminded him, "and yes. Actually, I had a lot of fun, as annoying as they can be." He didn't elaborate, and Blaine was too afraid of being nosy to ask him to.

Kurt unbuttoned his blazer, hanging it up in his closet beside his other Dalton regulation uniforms, and reached for a pair of pajama pants and a blanket. He threw both on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Sleeping on the floor," Kurt replied, equally as confused. "You know how Wes gets when we wake him up."

"He has some resemblance to a freshly woken hibernating bear," Blaine agreed. "But I don't see why that means you have to take the floor."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Where else would I sleep?"

"How about up here?" Blaine suggested. "The beds are big enough."

Kurt's lips pursed, and Blaine could nearly see the arguments that were going on in his brain.

Finally, Kurt heaved a sigh and climbed up next to Blaine. "To be honest, I don't think I can sleep," he admitted. "I'm too hyped up." And Blaine somewhat forgot how to breathe as Kurt's hand folded into his.

Blaine rolled onto his side to look at Kurt. "Then don't," he suggested. "Stay up and talk to me. Tell me about your Glee Club. I want to know what they're like."

Kurt laughed. "Rachel would accuse you of sabotage."

"What Rachel doesn't know won't hurt her."

Kurt blinked a little, as if trying to figure out if Blaine was serious, then grinned. "I don't want to keep you awake. Because trying to describe them will take all night."

"You've got an espresso machine on your bedside table," Blaine informed him politely. "I think I'm all set." He sat up, moving to sit cross-legged at the head of the bed, while Kurt moved further towards the foot.

They faced each other, knees barely touching, and Blaine poured himself a cup of coffee. He nodded at Kurt. "Shoot."

And Kurt began. Blaine watched in silence as Kurt described his various Glee Club members, gesticulating wildly as if to prove certain points. He learned of Diva Rachel Berry, with her "holier-than-thou" attitude (although in her case, it was more of a "more-talented-than-thou" attitude. He learned of Finn, Kurt's new stepbrother, and even learned of Kurt's slightly borderline stalker behavior towards him. He heard about Tina, the blue-haired Asian with the sweet voice and personality, and Quinn, who "honestly seems like a bitch," Kurt said, "because she's a cheerleader. But she's under a lot of stress most of the time and last year she had a freaking baby, so you can't really blame her", and Puck, who "tries to act so badass all the time, and on some level he actually is, but he really cares about the Glee Club and everyone in it", and Mike, who apparently never said much and couldn't really sing but could dance like nobody's business and had a killer set of washboard abs.

By the time the first streaks of sunlight his the sky, Kurt was slumped across the bed, sound asleep, and Blaine was leaning against the headboard, insanely buzzed from six cups of coffee. He had so much energy, and he just couldn't figure out what to do with it. His fingers needed to do something. They were drumming anxiously on his lap.

He reached for his guitar, and strummed a few chords, trying to figure out what to sing. Somehow the words just fell from his lips- a song he'd neither heard nor sung in more than a few years.

So she said what's the problem, baby? What's the problem, I don't know, well, maybe I'm in love-love- think about it, every time I think about it, can't stop thinking 'bout it- how much longer will it take to cure this? Just to cure it cuz I can't ignore it if it's love- love…

As he sang softly, his eyes fell onto the curve of Kurt's face, and he smiled at the completely and totally at-ease look on the boy's face. Kurt rarely looked as relaxed as he did at that moment, his face pressed up against Blaine's covers, his mouth slightly open.

Come on, come on- turn a little faster, come on, come on- the world will follow after, come on, come on- because everybody's after love…

He hadn't even heard Wes wake up or get out of bed (which was difficult, as Kurt's bedsprings were notoriously squeaky), he'd been so focused on the song and Kurt. Which is why he jumped about a foot when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's slightly creepy that you're watching him sleep," Wes said, but he was smiling to let Blaine know that he was kidding. "You should probably get ready."

Blaine blinked. "For?"

"Isn't your 'Baby, it's Cold Outside' thing tonight? You have 'rehearsal-BICO-all day' written on your calendar."

Blaine jumped off the bed, throwing his guitar to the side (as gently as one could throw an instrument that expensive). The action woke up Kurt, who blinked and yawned, looking somewhat like a newborn kitten. The adorable motion was not lost on Blaine, who suddenly felt an insane urge to cuddle with the slighter boy.

"Wassgoinon?" Kurt mumbled sleepily, and the cuddle-urge increased tenfold.

"Blaine just realized he's an idiot and he's got his little King's Island Christmas Spectacular thing today and he's forgotten about it," Wes said, throwing a pillow at Blaine, which was clearly helpful as it hit him in the back of the head.

"Get out of my room, Wes," Blaine said, before diving under the bed.

Kurt blinked blearily, and only managed a "what?"

"The Baby, it's Cold Outside performance I told you about," Blaine called from somewhere deep underneath his bed.

"What are you looking for?" Kurt asked, feeling ridiculously out of the loop.

"My costume," Blaine panted, crawling out from under his bed and dragging a large cardboard box with him.

Wes, who was gathering his things up from the bed, paused to grin. "How do-"

"Do not," Blaine interrupted, fairly certain that whatever Wes was about to say would make either him or Kurt uncomfortable. He sent Wes an "I-will-kill-you glare from behind Kurt's back. "And get out."

Wes shrugged, gathered up the last of his things, and moved for the door. "Have fun, then. But not too much fun, if you know what I mean." He winked.

Kurt threw a shoe at him. He dodged it easily, saluted them both, then shut the door behind him.

Blaine sighed deeply. "Wes really bothers me sometimes," he said, and lifted the lid of the box.

"Is that Armani?" Kurt gasped.

Blaine shrugged. "I wouldn't know. My mother sent it for me to wear." He lifted the suit from the box.

Kurt blinked. "You're- you're really rich, aren't you?"

Blaine colored a little, and very carefully considered his next words. "I don't like talking about how much money my family has," he said, slowly. "Mostly because I don't think who I am is based off of how much money I have. And most of the guys here have just as much money. But mostly, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I know your family doesn't have a ton of money- not to say you're poor, just that you're not rolling in dough," he added, quickly. "And I don't mean to sound snobby when I say I have no idea what kind of suit that is."

Kurt was smiling slightly. "It is Armani. The new collection. May I see it on?"

His voice was so calm and gentle that Blaine sighed in relief. "Sure," he said, taking the suit from Kurt.

Kurt turned his back as Blaine dressed, to give him a little privacy.

The suit was so comfortable, Blaine realized. That was unexpected. He'd always thought suits had to be the slightest bit uncomfortable, to keep one's posture straight and to keep one's attitude one that would befit such an elegant ensemble. But the suit flowed. It clung to his body, feeling something like wearing a cloud. Or what Blaine imagined wearing a cloud would feel like, since he'd never actually worn one.

He slipped the jacket on over his shoulders, and stepped into the shoes. He coughed lightly to let Kurt know he was done dressing.

When the other boy turned, he held out his arms. "What do you think?"

For a long moment, Blaine felt horribly ridiculous-looking under Kurt's quiet scrutiny.

Then Kurt spoke. "You need a tie." He reached into the box, drawing out an expensive silk tie, crimson red. He stepped closer to Blaine, focusing on looping the tie around the other's neck and creating an intricate knot to tie it.

Blaine was simply concentrating on breathing. Every once in a while, Kurt's fingers would brush the skin of Blaine's throat and Blaine's breathing would stutter.

Finally, Kurt stepped back. "You look incredible," he said, quietly. "And I'll be there to see you tonight."

xxxxx

Blaine was relieved that the girl he was performing the duet with seemed to realize right away that he wasn't attracted to her at all. He was pretty sure that she knew, even, that he wasn't attracted to girls in general. In fact, he was pretty sure their initial meeting had gone something like this:

Blaine: Hello, I'm Blaine.

Girl: Hello, I'm Gina. You're gay, aren't you?

Blaine: Yes. Yes I am.

Perhaps not exactly like that, but that was how Blaine remembered it in his mind.

He was right about one thing, he thought, as their duet drew into the if you got pneumonia and died part of the song (he didn't lean over to this girl across their makeshift couch because he didn't want to kiss her like he'd sure as hell wanted to kiss Kurt). He'd been right about the fact that Kurt would be way better than that girl. Because as lovely a singer as Gina was (and this whole bit really wasn't her fault), she couldn't pull off the lovely, coy, flirtatious way that Kurt could sing "Baby, it's Cold Outside".

Blaine could tell just by looking at her that Gina was used to being the chaser, not the chased, and with Kurt it was the other way around. So really, Kurt had been far more perfect for this role than Gina, not just in that he was a boy and Gina was a girl (because Blaine refused to admit that factor was part of the argument at all).

But Kurt was watching, in the audience, so Blaine really did put in an effort for his sake (and for the sake of the Armani suit).

As they bowed, Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, and a smile was unable to keep from crossing his face. Unfortunately, Gina was a perceptive girl. She noticed.

"So it's him, is it?" she said, thoughtfully, as they moved backstage.

By the sinking feeling in his stomach, Blaine already knew what she was talking about. But he chose to play dumb (as he normally did, when faced with awkward or uncomfortable situations). "What's him?"

She rolled her eyes. "The porcelain-faced kid with the perfect lips in row three. The one wearing Alexander McQueen- quite a catch, by the way. He's what makes your heart pound, isn't he?"

"His name's Kurt," Blaine said, not quite admitting to anything.

Gina tilted her head, and was perceptive once more. "He has no idea how you feel about him, does he?"

"No," Blaine said, admitting something this time.

And after that they couldn't talk anymore, because Kurt was backstage and saying "Blaine, that was amazing," and hugging him, and whispering in his ear in the rather vain way only Kurt could- "but you're right, I was better".

Gina met his eye over Kurt's shoulder, and her eyes were sparkling, and Blaine felt a rush of compassion for a small-town girl in Ohio who could not only accept him exactly the way he was (when she had never met him before, when they would probably never see each other again), but could talk with him easily about the boy who he was in love with.

Hope, after all, comes out of the strangest situations.

A/N: short chapter, yes, but the next one is MASSIVE. Okay, not massive, but very large. For me. Review!