Words couldn't describe how happy Blaine was that Kurt had forgiven him so quickly. Even so, he made a promise to himself to never betray Kurt's trust like that again. It just wasn't worth it – losing Kurt just because he'd lost his temper? What a bum deal.
He decided to give Kurt some space. After everything, he must want some time to himself. And, hey, if he wanted Blaine, he could always pick up the phone.
The next morning, at school, Blaine waited anxiously in home room. Would Kurt come in? If he didn't, Blaine wouldn't see Kurt until Monday, and the thought made Blaine nervous.
Trent slid into his seat next to Blaine as usual. "Hey," he said brightly.
Blaine looked up and caught his friend's eye. "Hi," he smiled, feeling a pang of guilt in his stomach about neglecting him the day before. "Hey, listen, I – about yesterday, I'm – "
"No need to apologise, Blaine," Trent interrupted, shaking his head good-naturedly. "You were worried; I get it." He leant forward, a slight frown creating lines in his forehead. "How is Kurt? Have you seen him?"
Blaine nodded. He was pleased that Trent understood, and figured it was only fair to answer his questions. "Yeah, he's fine. Luckily. They discharged him yesterday afternoon."
Trent relaxed. "That's good." He looked as though he wanted to ask something else.
"He wasn't sure whether he was gonna be in today or not," Blaine said, hazarding a guess at Trent's query.
"Oh, okay." Trent shuffled in his chair. "But – Blaine," he began, "what happened? Actually?"
Blaine swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. "Karofsky happened," he spat. "The guy at Kurt's old school who was giving him a hard time?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Trent to react.
He looked shellshocked. "He put Kurt in hospital?" he spluttered eventually. "Oh my god," he said when Blaine nodded solemnly.
Just then, Kurt walked into the room. Blaine saw him and felt his own face light up.
Kurt's face, on the other hand, looked as if he had shoved it in a blender, albeit gently. His right eye was still swollen and a discomforting shade of purple, and the rest of his face was littered with other little bruises and scratches. Blaine imagined that under Kurt's uniform probably would look even worse, and then had to stop himself imagining under Kurt's uniform as Kurt sat down.
"Kurt!" Trent exclaimed happily, beaming. "It's so good to see you."
"Morning, Trent," Kurt smiled. "It's great to be back." His eyes flicked across to Blaine. "Hi, Blaine," he said.
Had he said it sharply? Was there an underlying tone, still disapproving of Blaine's action of the day before? Blaine couldn't tell.
"Hi, Kurt," he said. "It's good to have you back." And he meant it. He hadn't been this happy to see Kurt since the Christmas fête – when he'd been standing alone on the stage, and Kurt had stepped in to save his duet at the last minute.
"Thanks, Blaine." With that, the three of them lapsed into comfortable silence, Kurt fiddling consciously with his hair the way he did, until their teacher hurried in with a big pile of papers to start the school day.
Lessons seemed to fly by, Blaine always looking forward to the next time he would see Kurt again. The two of them met Trent, Wes and David In the memorial garden at first break; they spent all of lunch break chatting over their meals; they squeezed in next to Stefan and Hugo on their sofa at after-school Warblers practice.
"First off," Wes announced, "an important notice. We just all wanted to say a welcome back to Warbler Kurt, and offer all our support should you need it." There was a selection of agreement and applause, and Kurt smiled awkwardly. "Now," Wes continued briskly, "it has come to the attention of a few Warblers that there are a couple of events in the coming year that we may consider preparing a set for. Not just thinking of Regionals – and Nationals, should we get there – but other celebrations. David pointed out that the Christmas fête performances went down so well, and this led to a discussion in which Nick – " Wes gestured towards a blond boy Blaine rcognised, who waved meekly " – suggested that we could perform for Valentine's day."
There were a few murmurs around the room. Most of them seemed favourable.
Blaine cleared his throat. "I think that's an excellent idea," he said.
Wes nodded . David half-stood and suggested, "should we take a vote?"
The proposal, unsurprisingly, won by a landslide. And Blaine was delighted to see the excitement in Kurt's eyes when Wes offhandedly suggested that there be auditions for soloists.
"I take it that someone's looking for a Valentine's solo?" Blaine whispered teasingly in Kurt's ear.
Kurt's cheeks reddened as Wes continued talking, and he turned slightly in his seat to face his friend. "Of course I am," he answered. "There are surprisingly few things I wouldn't do for a solo."
Why had Kurt had to say it like that? Blaine wondered, trying to subtly blink away the images creeping into his mind. He'd really have to work on not reading more into everything Kurt said. It wasn't appropriate – especially not now. After a moment, Blaine managed a smile, but stayed silent for the remainder of the meeting.
The weekend – and, in fact, the following week – passed without incident. Kurt was seeming to healing up very nicely, the bruises and scratches taking their time to fade. Warblers rehearsals had taken a turn for the romantic, with the hot topic being a potential Valentine's day performance. Blaine and his father seemed to be back on their usual terms; although (and Blaine didn't know whether to be happy about this or not), Mr Anderson had stopped suggesting bonding trips for the two of them. Overall, Blaine mused, things were going rather well.
The next event of note, so to speak, happened the following Saturday. Blaine was channel-hopping, sitting lopsidedly in an armchair. He was wearing bright blue skinny jeans and a white polo, and a navy bow tie sat wonkily on the side table where Blaine had discarded it.
Next to it, Blaine's mobile started vibrating. Blaine quickly swallowed the sweet he was eating and answered the call. "Mr Hummel," he said cheerily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Hi, Blaine," Kurt voice replied. "Listen – can you come over?"
Blaine glanced at the clock. Quarter to three. "Sure," he responded immediately. "What's up?" He turned off the television.
"I, ah..." Kurt said.
"Kurt." Blaine paused, his eyes wide.
"No, no, it's fine," Kurt said quickly. "I'm fine. I'm just in a spot of bother."
Blaine relaxed at Kurt's words. "Okay, alright. So what bother are you in?" Saying the word "bother" lightened mood immensely.
The static of Kurt's laugh hissed in Blaine's ear. "Oh, god..."
"Kurt, what is it?"
There was a short pause. "It's Pavarotti. He's got out his cage and won't go back in."
Blaine laughed, but grabbed his jacket and finished doing up his bow tie. "Okay then, Kurt. I'm on my way."