Hey - so it's a short one, but I'll try to have the next one out soon! :) Thank you for the comments on the last one; comments make me oh-so-happy! Hope you enjoy.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" Kurt spoke softly, running his fingers gently through Blaine's hair. "We never really talked about what happened in the car and I'm worried about you."

Blaine shook his head and wiped his eyes on Kurt's shirt.

"I don't think I can talk about it. There's just so much and…and I don't know where to start. I don't even know what's going on."

"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?" Kurt felt Blaine shudder a little bit, his shoulders shaking and relaxing as Kurt rubbed soft circles onto his back.

"What kind of questions?"

"Well…what does it feel like when you kiss Quinn?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "It feels…nice. I don't really know. It's not like we are constantly making out or anything; we just kiss goodbye after dates and stuff."

Kurt nodded, trying to think of a way to phrase the next question that wouldn't cause any eruptions.

"What did it feel like when you kissed me?"

Blaine's face clouded over and he shook his head. "We didn't…we didn't kiss." His face was set, stubborn, stony. "Whatever it was, it was any accident anyways."

"I sometimes see you looking at me in history." Blaine pulled away from Kurt, hastily wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "It's okay, Blaine. It's okay to be curious."

They sat there for a moment, both of them staring straight ahead at the wall in front of them. Kurt felt Blaine shift a little bit, watching him out of the corner of his eye. There was something going on that Kurt wanted desperately to make better. He couldn't figure out why though, why he felt such a strong desire to help Blaine. Maybe he was because he couldn't stand to see someone so beautiful look so broken.

Blaine's heart was beating overtime. The words were trying to break free, escape, from inside his chest where they'd been held captive for so long. Don't be a coward, he thought. But he couldn't; it was so wrong. It was going against everything he'd ever believed, everything he had ever known or been told. Just say it, he thought. Say it now.

"Show me," the words fell out, tumbling faster and faster, one after another. Kurt turned to look at him, his pretty blue eyes burning holes in Blaine's skin. It was too late to turn back now; he was in too far. "Show me how it feels to kiss a boy."

Kurt shook his head, trying to process what Blaine had said.

"Are…are you sure?" He was tripping over his words now, unsure of what to say. "What about Quinn?"

Blaine thought for a moment.

"I don't think I like her the way I'm supposed to," he said quietly.

"But if we kissed, wouldn't you be cheating on her?"

"I guess," Blaine stared at his lap. "Never mind; it was a bad idea. I'm sorry." He was retracting, retreating, slowly folding back into himself.

"No, wait, that's not what I…it's not that I didn't want…" Kurt was scrambling, trying to save the little bit of progress they had just made. He took a deep breath and grabbed Blaine's hands in his own, gently rubbing this thumb in small patterns across the skin.

"I have an idea. Why don't you and Quinn work things out and then Friday night my parents are going to be out of town. You can come over, I'll make you dinner, we'll watch some movies, and if you still want to, I'll kiss you."

Blaine couldn't fall asleep that night. Part of him was in shock. He couldn't believe he'd actually asked Kurt to kiss him. He wasn't even sure he wanted to kiss Kurt. There was just something about him—about Kurt—that made him want to turn around and run. Kurt scared him more than anyone, or anything, ever had.

Up until Kurt had come along, Blaine hadn't questioned anything. He knew who he was: captain of the soccer team, straight-A student, never cut class, always polite to his parents, a good big brother, never missed church, popular with girls. But then Kurt walked in, with his voice like music and eyes like cold water, and everything seemed to change.

Blaine sighed and rolled into his side, tucking his hands under his cheek. He had prayed that night, right before getting into bed. He'd asked for the same thing he'd been asking for weeks now—to understand himself, and the world, and all the questions running through his head. If there was a God, why did he seem to be playing jokes on him? Blaine reached for his phone next to his bed, wondering if Kurt was still awake.

Blaine Anderson — Kurt Hummel

(10:47 PM): Hey, what are you doing?

Kurt Hummel — Blaine Anderson

(10:51 PM): Thinking about you, actually. How are you holding up?

Blaine felt himself smile the tinniest of smiles. His fingers hovered over the keypad, trying to decide what to say. In all honesty, things were not so great. Things were a mess; everything, all of it. But there was some fear, some phobia, inside. He was afraid of letting other people see that messier side of him. Even with his parents, he tried to bottle up any and all imperfections, stow them away, out of sight out of mind.

But with Kurt it was different. He had cried in front of Kurt for one thing. Blaine certainly did not feel safe around Kurt, but there was something about him that made him feel like he could be honest.

Blaine Anderson — Kurt Hummel

(10:55 PM): I've been better.

Blaine took a deep breath.

Kurt…I'm scared.