A/N: I thought I might give y'all a ballpark figure of how long this fic will probably wind up being - I'd say upward of twenty chapters, there is still LOTS that has to happen!

That said, I do hope everyone enjoys this chapter, because it was certainly fun to write! I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning because I was too excited to sleep :D So I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! The chapter ending was far, far from the original plan - threw me for quite a loop there for awhile - but sometimes you just have to let the characters do their thing and run with it!

Enjoy!


NINE:

By the end of the week, everybody knew that Blaine and Kurt were in some sort of riff - again. They were not ignoring each other as they had been earlier, but their actions were stiff and formal, bereft of the animation and compassion that usually filled them when they were around each other.

To Kurt's mind, this was not his fault in the least. He'd told Blaine that he had not officially said yes to Jordan, the other boy had no right to stomp off like that. But why shouldn't he say yes? If he was being completely honest with himself, it was true: he did feel some measure of affection toward the older teen. He had to be rational with this. Kurt couldn't sit mooning over Blaine forever if nothing was going to happen. He'd made that mistake twice already, and he was quite done with it.

Perhaps he should just attempt to move on, as painful as the thought of giving up on Blaine was. Jordan had asked him out, on a real date. Sure, he had done it in a twisted and roundabout way, but no one had ever done that before. Kurt rather liked knowing that he wasn't completely unappealing, forever destined to be the one crushing rather than the one being crushed on – if that was what you could call this.

At any rate, Kurt was not apologizing when he had done nothing wrong. He didn't know what was bothering Blaine, and if the other boy wasn't going to enlighten him, then so be it.

He had been debating all week, and it was the weekend before Valentine's Day when Kurt made up his mind. He was going to dinner with Jordan. One date couldn't hurt; in fact, he had a feeling that it would be quite beneficial. Perhaps he could use the time to decide once and for all where his feelings were going to lie.

Certainly, half the time Jordan annoyed Kurt to the brink of insanity…but the other half of the time, Kurt absorbed his words and actions with a certain measure of fondness. He couldn't help but admire the other boy, already so successful. This would be a good thing, Kurt told himself, no matter how Blaine reacted.

Of course, that brought up the question of why, once again. It didn't make sense in Kurt's logic. Blaine had always been the one to tell him to be confident in himself; why was he acting this way now? What did he know that Kurt didn't? And why wouldn't he just say it?

Come Monday morning, Kurt had not changed his mind. He'd seen Jordan a few times in the past week, and though they had talked with complete civility, neither had spoken of Monday again.

Kurt descended the stairs and poked his head into the kitchen, where his father was staring intensely at a cookbook and Carole was reading the newspaper while sipping her morning tea. "Dad?" He asked questioningly.

"Kurt, can you help me out here? What's a dash? Is that like a pinch? Or more than a pinch? They shouldn't make these instructions so subjective…"

"More than a pinch," Kurt answered. "It's supposed to be subjective to account for personal taste preference. Um…I'm not going to be around for dinner tonight, just so you know. I'll be back later."

He began to exit, thinking that Burt might be too engrossed in the cookbook to process the words immediately, therefore giving him time to run away, but Kurt's father was too fast. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said as Kurt tried to back away. "Not so quick there. You know what today is, don't you?"

"Yes," Kurt replied in a mumble, looking fixedly at the table.

"So…are you and Blaine getting dinner or something?" That was Carole's hopeful voice.

"No, actually," Kurt replied, not looking up to see Burt and Carole's matching surprised expressions. "This is…someone else."

"And do we get to meet this someone else?" Burt asked, leaning against the counter.

"Dad, can we not talk about this right now?" Kurt pleaded. "I'm going to be late for class; I don't know how much traffic there'll be."

Burt hardly looked like he wanted to let it go, but with a glance from Carole, he nodded shortly. "Fine. We'll…talk later, okay? Kurt?"

"Yeah dad," he assured his father before escaping out the door. "Whatever you say."

The day progressed in a similar way to the days of last week: Kurt and Blaine remained frigidly civil, sitting together in music but not talking beyond what was necessary. Kurt didn't wait for Blaine to collect his things before he started to leave, but he couldn't have been more than five feet away when Jordan fell into step next to him. If Kurt hadn't known better he would have said that the other student looked almost nervous.

"Hey Kurt," he greeted the younger boy. "We're uh…still on for tonight, right? After Warblers practice?"

Kurt only hesitated for a moment, despite the knowledge that Blaine was five feet away and could hear everything he said. Without thinking on it again, he grinned widely, biting down on his bottom lip softly when he realized his grin might be stretching farther than was proper. "Yeah," he responded. "Of course." Of course? He demanded of himself. Had he needed to add that?

"I'm driving," Jordan commented with a flirty grin before exiting the room. Kurt stood still for a moment, wondering if he should turn around. In the end he didn't; Kurt found that he didn't think he could stomach Blaine's reaction. As much as he found Blaine's anger unfounded, Kurt still desperately wanted his friend's approval. To not have it was a constant nagging worry in his mind, a worry that he was doing something wrong.


As the day progressed, Kurt was beginning to feel something quite strange. If he didn't know better, he would have said that he was beginning to get butterflies in his stomach, like he was nervous. He really did want to impress Jordan. In a way, he almost wanted this to overshadow his feelings toward Blaine, those feelings that he believed would be forever unreciprocated.

He walked into the music hall after school hoping only that this would pass as quickly as possible so that they could get on with it. The waiting had begun to positively kill him. He was the first one in the hall, surprisingly, and when he entered the two Alcotts were bent over an explosion of papers.

"Maybe it isn't a good idea," Mr. Alcott muttered. "Maybe we should keep doing things the same way as we always have."

"You know as well as I do that those boys need some change," his wife spoke up. "It's a wonderful idea, Ollie. I say we go ahead with it."

Tactfully, Kurt cleared his throat, causing both of the Alcotts to spin around and look at him. "Oh, Kurt!" Mrs. Alcott exclaimed, jumping up and rushing toward him. She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him over to the mass of papers. "I'm glad you're here, and since you're first one, you can also be the first to go through this little trial of ours."

"Sounds…painful," Kurt said hesitantly.

"No, no," replied the woman with a laugh. "I know you saw how we did Sectionals. Blaine is our lead singer and we picked a song we thought the judges would like to hear."

"It went fine…"

"No, it didn't," Mr. Alcott said seriously, shaking his head. "We tied with New Directions, and I know you're happy about it because that was your old school but it only meant that we were slacking in our performance."

"No, I get it," Kurt replied understandingly. "So…what is this trial then?"

"We have a list of songs here," Mrs. Alcott said, gesturing to the stacks of paper. Upon closer inspection, Kurt saw that it was all sheet music. "And each day we're going to have one of the Warblers pick a song they feel that they can bring something special to and perform it in front of everyone. Once all of you have had a chance, we'll take an anonymous vote and the top vote getters will be our songs and performers for Regionals."

"Everyone will sing a song?" The voice sounded from behind Kurt. The other Warblers had begun to file in. "But that's not how it's done. We've had the same procedure for official performances since 1954 when Perseus Frederickson tried to steal Rupert Sheave's solo in the middle of the Nationals performance, costing them the whole show and sending three Warblers to the hospital due to the brawl that ensued." Kurt turned to roll his eyes at Thad, the senior council member who had spoken.

"That was a long time ago, Thad," Mrs. Alcott said patiently. "If this doesn't work we'll go back to how things used to be, but I think it's a good idea and as the vocal coach I say that it's worth giving it a shot."

"It couldn't hurt," Wes spoke up, earning the approving nods from more than a few members. Oftentimes, Wes' word was law. "As long as Blaine, as our current lead singer, doesn't mind."

The Warbler in question smiled pleasantly and shook his head. "Of course I don't mind. Everyone will have a fair shot this way; we'll all be in equal contention."

"Nicely put, Blaine," commended Mr. Alcott. "Well Kurt, since Bridgette offered you the first spot, would you like to make your selection?"

"Of course." He approached the many sheets laid out across the long table, contemplating them all seriously. He saw several selections from Wicked, among other Broadway shows, but he knew that everyone would expect him to sing one of those. He wanted to do something else, something different. His eyes caught on one particular piece, and his mind immediately took to it. "This one is good," he said, picking up the sheets and handing them to the male Alcott, who manned the piano during performances.

"Ah, good choice," he rumbled with a grin, settling the sheets on the piano stand. "Here, lyrics for you, just in case."

"Thank you." Kurt propped the sheet up on a stand and stood it beside him. He believed he knew all the words but the last thing he needed was to make a total fool out of himself in front of everyone with Regionals on the line. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Alcott."

The co-director almost immediately began to play the semi-rapid piano notes and Kurt had no trouble sinking into the moment. He lifted his head and began to sing.

Chances are, when said and done

Who'll be the lucky ones

Who make it all the way

The Warblers had fallen quiet in a moment, and they watched in silence as Kurt's angelic voice filled every corner of the music hall. He squeezed his eyes closed and clutched his balled up fists to his chest, over his heart.

Though you say I could be your answer

Nothing lasts forever

No matter how it feels today

Kurt opened his eyes and looked out over the Warblers, many of whom were smiling to themselves or bobbing their heads slightly.

Chances are we'll find a new equation

Chances run away from me

Chances are all they hope to be

His eyes shifted toward Jordan, who had a strange smile on his face. Kurt resolved then and there that he would never understand that boy. Returning the smile, his eyes continued down the line of Warblers until they reached Blaine, who was staring up at Kurt with wide eyes.

Don't get me wrong I'd never say never

Cause though love can change the weather

No act of God can pull me away from you

I'm just a realistic man

A bottle filled with shells and sand

Afraid to love beyond what I could lose

When it comes to you

And though I'll see us through, yeah

Blaine's jaw had slacked slightly, and if Kurt had been able to see two things at once, he would have seen the slight frown that begun to play on Jordan's lips.

Chances are we'll find two destinations

Chances run away from me

Still, chances are more than expectations

And possibilities…over me

He tore his gaze away from Blaine and walked between the chairs and couches arranged in various directions, tilting his head up toward the ceiling.

Eight to five or two to one

Lay your money on the sun

Until you crash, what have you done?

Is there a better bet than love?

What you are is what you bring

You gotta cry before you see chances

Chances

There was no better time to reflect on the meaning of words than when you were singing them aloud. Kurt was struck by the parallel they presented, which had perhaps been the reason that the song jumped out at him in the first place.

Chances lost our hope's torn out pages

Maybe this time

Turning from where he had walked, Kurt unlaced his hands and dropped them to his side as he began toward the front of the music hall. The Warblers' eyes followed him the entire way, no one looking away.

Chances are we'll be the combination

Chances come and carry me

Chances are waiting 'til they take it

And I can see

He faced the Warblers and the Alcotts once again, hands extending toward them in the final lines of the song, voice strongly delivering them.

Chances are the fascination

Chances won't escape from me

Chances are only what we're living

And all I need

His voice faded off softly, leaving audible silence in its wake. Blaine was the first one to clap, the sound loud and slow before the others joined in, filling the gaps quickly with their own praises. Kurt risked a small smile of gratitude, and the other boy inclined his head, though his mouth remained a straight line.

"Kurt," Mrs. Alcott said, clutching her hand to her chest. "Beautiful, as always."

"I don't think we'll make anyone try to outdo that today," her husband said with a chuckle. "Tomorrow though, everyone should be ready! This was your competition – Kurt set the bar high, gentlemen. Now, off with you. Enjoy whatever plans you have tonight."

Plans… With the proposal of a new set list system for Regionals and being delegated to sing to the Warblers, there had been almost an hour in which Kurt had completely forgotten about the date. The thoughts all came rushing back as a cheerful group of Warblers began to collect their things and leave the hall. Hadn't he just sung about chances? Kurt smiled to himself at the thought. Music had never been more relevant.

"If I didn't think you were going to be a star before," said a voice from behind Kurt.

He spun around and looked at Jordan in surprise. Had that been a compliment? It had certainly sounded like one, but for the fact that Jordan himself had said it. "Er…flattered?" Kurt replied, the sentiment tilting up on the end like a question. "Shall we…?"

Jordan didn't answer with words; he tipped his head up with a smirk upon his lips and began to walk out of the room, glancing back halfway to the door to make sure Kurt was following. The two walked out of the music hall and were part of the way down the hallway when a call came from behind them.

"Kurt!" It came, sounding semi-panicked. Kurt turned around to see Blaine standing in the frame of the door leading to the hall. "Can I just…talk to you for a second? Just a second?"

"I…I don't know if that's a good idea," Kurt answered, glancing toward the floor. "We're going somewhere –"

"Reservations really aren't for more than half an hour," Jordan said quickly, shrugging his shoulders. Kurt frowned at him slightly, wondering why he of all people was going along with this…not to mention why he had made a reservation somewhere when Kurt had hardly affirmed that he was going anywhere until today. "It's not a big deal; I'll wait out by the car."

Without waiting for a response, Jordan casually walked off, hands in his pockets. Kurt watched him go with a wide-eyed expression, hardly believing that was the same Jordan he'd gotten to know in the past weeks.

Kurt cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he turned to Blaine, keeping his eyes on anything other than his friend. "What is it, Blaine?"

"Can we step in here?" He asked, gesturing to the music hall. "Just to be out of the hallway."

Wordlessly, Kurt entered the now empty room, raising an eyebrow when Blaine closed the door behind him. "So…"

"You're still going to dinner with that guy?" Blaine asked the question abruptly.

"Yes," Kurt answered slowly. "Seems like I don't actually have a reason not to."

"Oh," Blaine replied, sounding a bit disappointed. "I mean, sure. Yeah, that's…that's great."

"Blaine did you want to say something?" Kurt asked, almost pleaded. "Because if you don't have anything to say, I really think I should go."

The black-haired Warbler raised his hands in a peace gesture. "I do…have something to say still." He chuckled hopelessly, absentmindedly running a hand over his hair and freeing the curls of their ordered confines. "Oh Lord, I'm hopeless at this. Okay, Kurt…you know that it's easier to say something if you just sing it, right?"

"I do…"

Blaine's eyes were wide and pleading as he spoke. "So…just listen. Please. Just listen. Listen and know that…I mean it, every word. Okay?"

"S-sure," Kurt stuttered, shocked at Blaine's frazzled demeanor.

"Good….good." Blaine cleared his throat and sat down at the piano that the male Alcott had been at earlier. He played a few experimental notes that Kurt was positive he was making up on the fly before his voice sung out, shaking more than a little.

I shouldn't love you, but I want to

I just can't turn away

I shouldn't see you, but I can't move

I can't look away

Kurt's heart had risen up so far that he was positive it would pop right out of his throat if not for the hand that was currently clamped securely over his mouth. Every nerve in his being suddenly felt exposed and raw, buzzing with self-conscious and unstable energy. He was surprised that he was still conscious to hear Blaine's voice the next time it sang out, considerably stronger than it had been at first.

I shouldn't love you, but I want to

I just can't turn away

I shouldn't see you, but I can't move

I can't look away

Blaine had known from the moment he called Kurt's name in the hallway that there was no turning back. He was doing it once and for all, laying all of his cards out on the table where they could never be misinterpreted again. He was sure he would positively perish from nerves at the first few lines but by the repeat of the first verse, a definite sense of urgency and importance had filled him.

He could do this.

And I don't know how to be fine when I'm not

'Cause I don't know how to make a feeling stop

Blaine's hands left the keys of the grand piano and pushed against it to move back the stool and make room for him to stand. Music no longer played but neither Blaine nor Kurt would have noticed even if it had been. Kurt was standing stock-still in the same place that he'd been when Blaine began to sing, and Blaine was beginning to move closer toward the other Warbler.

Just so you know

This feeling's taken control of me

And I can't help it

I won't sit around

I can't let him win now

Kurt lowered his shaking hand from where it had been clasped harshly against his mouth and pressed it instead against his heart, which he could feel pounding against his ribs in a way that was sure to leave a bruise.

Thought you should know

I've tried my best to let go of you

But I don't want to

I just gotta say it all before I go

Just so you know

Blaine had closed the distance between the two, but refrained from reaching out quite yet. Kurt still seemed to be paralyzed on the spot. Blaine wished he would move, or show some emotion other than sheer shock.

It's getting hard to be around you

There's so much I can't say

Do you want me to hide the feelings?

And look the other way?

His eyes never moved from Kurt's, just as Kurt's had never left his. The two Warblers were locked in an unbreakable gaze, unable or unwilling to look away from the other.

And I don't know how to be fine when I'm not

'Cause I don't know how to make a feeling stop

Unable to resist any longer, Blaine reached and out grabbed the hand that had been on Kurt's chest. He cradled it between two of his own like it was a delicate thing that could be broken at too rough of a touch…because that's what Kurt was, and Blaine didn't want anyone else to compromise that, especially after what he'd been through.

Just so you know

This feeling's taken control of me

And I can't help it

I won't sit around

I can't let him win now

Any longer without breathing and Kurt was completely positive that he would die on the spot. He inhaled a shaky breath, his entire body feeling utterly unstable. Almost every part of him seemed to have magically transformed into either overcooked noodles or jello, neither of whichwas the best medium for sustaining a standing position.

Thought you should know

I've tried my best to let go of you

But I don't want to

I just gotta say it all

Before I go

Just so you know

Kurt's expression had turned from shocked to teetering on the verge of consciousness. While Blaine supposed that might be a good sign, he hardly wanted Kurt to pass out in the midst of this confessional serenade. But he still couldn't release the hand that he had in his own grasp, as if letting go of him right then would equate to its equivalent in the larger picture.

This emptiness is killing me

And I'm wondering why I've waited so long

His voice had quieted a bit, it was no longer passionate and filling the room with its emotion – rather, it was secretive and confined to the two of them.

Looking back I realize

It was always there just never spoken

I'm waiting here…been waiting here

He shifted his hand so that Kurt's laid in only one of his, and he grabbed the hand that hung limply by Kurt's side so they now faced each other, clasping both hands together.

Just so you know

This feeling's taken control of me

And I can't help it

I won't sit around

I can't let him win now

To Blaine's extreme surprise, he felt Kurt's hands tighten around his, shifting to entwine their fingers together. The action, such a small thing, filled Blaine with a strange mixture of hope and relief.

Thought you should know

I've tried my best to let go of you

But I don't want to

I just gotta say it all before I go

Just so you know

Just so you know

Blaine's voice faded off, and he had to bite his bottom lip harshly to keep himself from running away. He had done what he'd come to do, he'd confessed everything. Kurt hardly knew what he meant to Blaine, he was the only source of genuine joy and companionship in a life that was full of paranoia and jumping at shadows and the creak of floorboards.

He couldn't let it all walk down the hall with Jordan, at least not without trying one last time.

"All of that," Kurt started, voice shaking. "Everything you said was…true?"

Blaine was of the opinion that he couldn't chance opening his mouth for fear of verbal diarrhea, but he nodded his head, eyes wide.

Kurt's expression was rapidly becoming wildly conflicted, emotions playing behind his eyes at a million miles per hour. "Why…why didn't you say anything?" He asked hopelessly.

Blaine's expression softened as he heard the small measure of panic in Kurt's voice, and he tightened the grip on his hands, pulling him slightly closer in the process. "I couldn't," he told Kurt quietly, hardly believing that they were talking about this openly. "After what happened at McKinley…I couldn't, Kurt. You were so fragile…so broken. I know how that fe - I mean, it isn't hard to sympathize." The words were beginning to rapidly pour out, just as Blaine had been afraid they would. "I thought maybe I could help you fix yourself, set things to rights again, make you comfortable with the person you are…maybe then…"

"Is that why?" Kurt asked, voice tight. "Is that why you acted that way?" Blaine didn't answer directly, but the message relayed by his eyes was enough of an answer in itself.

Kurt shook his head disbelievingly. After telling himself that Blaine would never reciprocate his feelings, this was actually happening. He was standing right there, bearing his soul and Kurt was still too cowardly to do it himself. He still felt selfishly confused, even more so than he had ten minutes ago. "But it's…why now? Now, when I was just…" Moving on? That was certainly not right.

"You can't just walk away," Blaine said quickly, almost desperately. "I…couldn't let you go without saying…something." He let go of Kurt's hands abruptly and took a few steps backward. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You can go now if you want…I just had to say something." He looked down at the ground, expecting to hear footsteps leading away and the creak of a door. Shock coursed through him when the tips of Kurt's dress shoes entered his field of vision.

"I didn't think this would ever happen," Kurt whispered, causing Blaine to tilt his head up and catch his eye. He shook his head wonderingly. "I mean, I thought…somewhere far away in a dream it might, but not for real. Why didn't you say anything at all?" Kurt realized that Blaine could be asking the exact same question of him, but as the one who'd been serenaded, he felt the need to at least ask.

Blaine was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "I just want you to always think the best of me, Kurt. Something horrible happened to you in McKinley, what Karofsky did to you isn't something that just vanishes overnight, into nothing. It's something that takes time to overcome. You have to realize that not everything has to be like that; being with someone when you want to will be different. I didn't want you to associate me with anything that happened back there."

"But I do," Kurt responded, biting down on his bottom lip as he realized exactly how horribly cheesy his thoughts were rapidly becoming. "I do. You're everything that helped me get out of there; everything that scraped me off the floor and set me on my feet. I could never disassociate you from what happened at McKinley, but that isn't a bad thing, I don't think."

There was silence for a moment as the two teens simply looked at each other from where they stood, no more than a foot apart. Slowly, Kurt reached out to grasp Blaine's hand once again. "And why…did you never k –"

"Kurt," interrupted Blaine quickly, shaking his head. "I…might have wanted to, but like I already said: you need time to recover from what happened with Karofsky."

"Needed." Kurt's voice was quiet, softer than a whisper.

"What?"

"Needed," he repeated, hardly louder. He was sure that Blaine had heard his words the first time, as the room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. "Needed. Needed time." He looked up at Blaine's face from where his eyes had been fixed on the hand grasped in his.

Blaine's expressive eyes were wide, and his lips parted slightly as he stared at Kurt, who was observing him with the same intensity. Gently, Kurt lifted his unclaimed hand and traced his fingers lightly along Blaine's cheek. He heard the other boy's breath hitch at the contact, but he didn't break it. His fingertips traced over his cheekbone and down the curve of his jaw.

Breath coming more difficultly, Kurt dropped his hand entirely and moved his own to the other side of Blaine's face, where it settled, light as a feather. They had somehow gotten even closer, though Kurt couldn't remember moving. He leaned forward only a small amount, until his forehead was pressed against Blaine's and their noses brushed off one another.

"Kurt," said Blaine in a strangled whisper. "You don't…you don't have to…I mean, if you don't…you…" He appeared to be having difficultly stringing words together, which in Kurt's opinion could only be a good thing.

"Shh," Kurt responded. Several things then happened at the same time: his left hand moved downward from Blaine's face and bunched up in the front of his shirt; Kurt's head tilted left, his eyes slid closed, and his lips parted softly; finally, the hand that had grabbed the shirt tugged forward slightly, enough so that Kurt's lips gently met Blaine's.

In that one action, Blaine's reservations seemed to completely fly out the window, which Kurt was immensely glad for. The lead Warbler's head tilted back receptively, and he breathlessly reached forward and placed a hand on Kurt's waist, drawing them closer together. Every cell in his body was buzzing and a white cloud of euphoria was filling his head. He was half convinced that at any moment he would hear the scream of his alarm clock and he'd be shocked back into reality. Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for this: the sense of rightness that filled his being, the urge to never come up for air again.

Kurt, on the other hand, was sure that he was doing this all wrong. How were you supposed to breathe properly when your mouth was so otherwise preoccupied? Then there was the buzzing part of his mind that said breathing was hardly important at a time like this. He was kissing Blaine Anderson, actually kissing him. He'd watched enough happy endings in movies and shows to know that a moment like this was supposed to be magical – and it was. It was like nothing he'd ever dreamed of before, and after Karofsky, nothing he'd ever hoped to have.

His lips were moving of their own accord, unhindered by his brain, which Kurt thought could only be a good thing, since his brain would probably just serve to mess everything up. He felt like an electric current was racing through him, and his skin tingled where Blaine's hand rested, even though the multiple layers of his Dalton uniform. He could feel Blaine's lips moving under his, molding to their shape like two halves of a whole. Kurt drew back slightly, breathing heavily.

They were still close together, close enough so that he could feel the warmth of the other's breath. His hands remained where they had been – one bunched in the front of his shirt while the other was cradling the side of his face. He opened his eyes slowly to see that Blaine's remained closed, his lips still partly open.

He remained transfixed, chest moving up and down heavily, until Blaine's eyes finally opened and they flicked towards Kurt's. His eyes remained wide, and he bit down contemplatively on his bottom lip. Slowly, a smile began to spread across his face, one that sent butterflies through the depths of Kurt's stomach.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered wonderingly with a small sigh and a shake of the head, that euphoric smile in place the entire time. He looked as in shock as Kurt felt, which the latter found amazing.

A horrible and entirely unwelcome sensation was currently entering Kurt's conscience: guilt. In his wildest fantasies, when something like this happened, guilt had never been a factor. They had always been skipping off into flowery fields holding hands as the sun cast neon colors into the sky and the summer breeze ruffled their clothes. Never had he felt guilty.

But he did now. The thought of Jordan waiting unknowingly out by the car visualized in his mind, and confliction cropped up along with it. He knew what this meant – that Blaine had actually wanted him in the same way that he'd wanted Blaine. It should be that easy…shouldn't it? But it wasn't. Kurt hated himself for having doubts now, of all horrible times to have doubts.

"I…I," he stammered.

"I know," Blaine returned softly, voice still laced with that wondering tone. He raised a hand and brushed it along Kurt's, which had still been on the side of his face. He leaned briefly into it, eyes sliding shut for a moment before opening again brightly. "Kurt, I…don't even know what to say. I mean, you're –"

"I have to go," Kurt said quickly, slipping his hand out from under Blaine's and taking several hasty steps backward.

"Kurt!" Blaine's tone was alarmed, eyes wide in near panic. "I'm…I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"No…I mean – yes, yes I'm fine, I just –" He shook his head quickly, feeling the onslaught of emotions that would mean a burst of tears.

"Kurt," repeated Blaine, sounding clearly distressed. He touched on a hand to Kurt's retreating shoulder, causing the other to spin around. The over bright sheen in the countertenor's eyes made his heart ache with regret. "I knew I shouldn't have…I mean, I shouldn't have done anything, I should have waited. I went too fast, I'm sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that."

Blaine's pleas, if anything, only made Kurt's feelings of guilt increase. Now he thought that Kurt's reaction was his fault. Trying to keep his hand from shaking, he moved Blaine's hand off of his shoulder. "N-no. Blaine, I'm sorry. You don't know how many times I've thought about that and now…I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry…I have to go." His voice broke over the last syllable, and Kurt clasped his hand over his mouth as he turned and raced from the room and out of the building.

Blaine had been shocked into stillness for a moment, but the next instant saw him running after Kurt across the courtyard. "Kurt!" He called after the retreating figure. No, no, no – this could not be happening, Blaine thought to himself. What had he done? Had he moved too fast? Kurt had been the one to initiate it though; Blaine hadasked him if he was going to be okay.

He stopped at the beginning of the parking lot, biting his lip as he saw Kurt make a beeline to his car. In the next instant, he saw another figure, this one heading directly toward Kurt. "Fuck," Blaine cussed passionately, as he watched Jordan Aaron approach.

All Kurt needed in the moment was to escape. He needed some place he could breathe and reflect on what happened. He hastened toward his car, blurry vision causing him to fumble with the keys.

"Hey!" A voice called out, just as Kurt had just reached the vehicle. He looked up through teary eyes to see Jordan running toward him. Perfect. "Kurt…" Jordan observed Kurt's tear-streaked face with shock, finally settling on his lips, still slightly swollen from kissing. Immediately, a defensive force filled his entire being.

"What happened?" He asked harshly, reaching Kurt's side. "Kurt." He frowned as the other boy flinched under his touch. "What did he do? What did he do to you, Kurt?" Jordan's face was set and serious, eyes flaring with anger.

"N-nothing," Kurt fumbled as he tried to unlock the driver's side door. "Nothing happened, I just…I can't. I'm g-going home, I'm sorry." Kurt slid into the driver's seat and turned the engine on with shaky fingers, quickly backing out without buckling his seat belt.

Jordan wanted to run alongside the car, do something to keep him from leaving, just like that. But there was nothing he could do, Kurt was gone too quickly. Instead, he turned to survey the grounds, only to see Blaine Anderson watching Kurt's retreating car with wide, too-innocent doe eyes.

"Anderson!" He called loudly, stalking over to the other boy. "What did you do?"

Blaine looked at him in shock for a moment before frowning deeply. "Pretending to care?" He shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, good thing it isn't any of your business."

"Don't try to pull this, Anderson," Jordan snarled, grabbing the boy's blazer lapels and shoving him back harshly against the brick entrance to the courtyard. "I know you did something to Kurt, he was crying."

"You can stop the act," Blaine hissed, shoving the other teen away from him. "God, you make me sick. Pretending like you know him, like you know what's best for him when you've known each other for what? Two weeks? You don't know the first thing about him."

"More than you know, obviously." Jordan kept his glare in place, though he didn't advance again yet. "Which leads me back to the question: what the fuck did you do and exactly how hard do I have to kick the shit out of you?"

"Fuck off, Aaron," Blaine growled, animosity growing by the moment. "You don't know the first thing about shit –"

His words were cut off abruptly by the sound of a siren shrieking as it passed the school. Blaine and Jordan looked in unison toward the vehicle as it passed and exchanged a brief, wordless glance. Jordan began to immediately run toward the exit of the parking lot but Blaine quickly grabbed the keys to his own car and started the engine.

Jordan had just reached the meeting of the parking lot and street when Blaine pulled up beside him. "Get in, Aaron," he called threateningly out of the open window. "And don't say I never did anything for you."

"Shut the fuck up and drive, Anderson," Jordan said darkly, getting in and slamming the door behind him. Blaine turned right out of the parking lot and raced after the howling ambulance as quickly as safety would allow.


Chances - Five for Fighting

Just So You Know - Jesse McCartney