Thank you for the comments on the last one! I hope you enjoy this one...please comment; it makes me happy. :) Also, any suggestions or whatnot-I would love to hear them!

There was something so classically romantic about the whole thing—after school, sitting on the bleachers, Quinn's hair blowing in the wind. Blaine had been trying to avoid her, telling her that he had homework, or soccer practice, or that he'd had to babysit his little sister. The reason being that he couldn't do it; he couldn't break up with her.

It was Thursday now, a mere twenty-four hours before he was supposed to go to Kurt's house. He looked over at Quinn, her eyes so bright and her smile so innocent. This wasn't her fault; it wasn't her fault that he was such a mess.

She looked just as nervous as he felt, absentmindedly playing with the collar on her dress. She should be angry, or upset, or something, but she was too nice for that. She was too good for Blaine. Eventually, she looked up and met his eyes.

"So my friend is having a party tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me? It'll be fun," she gave him a small, almost pleading sort of smile. "I feel like I never get to see you anymore," she said softly, looking back at her lap.

"Right, well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Blaine took a deep breath. "Um, things have just been really…hectic. You know, with school and soccer and everything. Anyways, I just think that maybe it would be better if we, um, just went back to being friends."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Blaine knew he'd hurt her; he could see it on her face. She didn't cry, though; but there was something said about the way she looked at him.

"Okay," she said, finally, standing up and reaching for her bag. "It's what you want?"

Blaine nodded, feeling somewhat disconnected from himself.

"Okay," she said, again. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking down the bleachers; the sound of her steps radiating off the metal.

Blaine pulled into the driveway and turned off his car. He sat there for a moment, trying to remember how this had all started. Recently, it felt as if life was flying past him, one big blur of noise and confusion.

It was funny, now that he thought about it, how he actually knew so little about Kurt. He had made a lot of assumptions, but when he stopped to think about it, there was a lot he had never even bothered to ask. Sighing, Blaine got out of the car and walked slowly up to the house, trying to think of the easiest way to avoid any questions his mother might throw at him about Quinn.

Elise was sitting at the kitchen table coloring a picture. She had her box of sixty-four Crayola crayons in front of her, one hand underneath her chin, her lower lip sticking out a little bit as she concentrated on drawing a perfect circle. Blaine smiled as he sat down next to her, hoping her aimless chatter would distract him from the constant stream of worry running through his head.

"Hi, Blaine," she said, her words a little muffled from the hand pressed against the side of her mouth. "I'm making a drawing for you."

Blaine tilted his head a little bit to get a better look.

"See? That's you, and Mommy, and Daddy, and me," she said, pointing to the people in the picture. "When you and Quinn get married I will add her to the picture too, because then she'll be my sister."

Blaine froze, trying to think of the best way to explain things to Elise. "Uh, Ellie, I'm not sure Quinn is going to be coming around much anymore."

Blaine hadn't even thought about this whole part. Elise loved Quinn. At church, they would always sit together; Quinn helping her read the more difficult words in the hymn book and teaching her little ways to remember things for bible study. For the past few weeks, Quinn would come over and spend time making cookies or playing dress up with her, telling her about high school, and driving, and dating boys. Blaine felt genuinely guilty for taking Quinn away from Elise.

"Why not?" Elise reached for a blue crayon. "Are you guys fighting?"

Blaine played with the sleeves of his shirt, "Yeah, sort of. I'm really sorry, Ellie."

To his surprise, she looked up at him with her wide eyes and before he knew what was happening, she had crawled onto the table and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled into her curls, taking in her particular smell of soap and the softness of her skin.

"I love you, Blaine," she said.

He felt his throat constrict, but this time in a good way. A little bit of the wariness that had built up over the past few weeks melted away. Not all of it, not even the majority of it, but a little bit.

"I love you too, Ellie."

The next morning, Blaine came downstairs feeling extremely nervous about the day in front of him. He'd thought about calling Kurt and telling him that he had changed his mind. But the thing was that he hadn't. He was still curious, if not more so now that he had been before. He still wanted to know what it would feel like. And at this point, he was too far in; no going back.

His mother was making breakfast when he stumbled into the kitchen. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and he squirmed away, making her smile and reach out to ruffle his hair.

"What?" She asked teasingly. "Getting too old to give Mommy a kiss?"

He shrugged and sat down at the table. She gave him a concerned look and set a plate of eggs and bacon down next to him.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

Blaine grabbed his fork and began eating, trying to avoid her question. "Nothing; I've got a test in math…" he tried to pass that as his explanation.

"Is that all? You seem worried," she sat down next to him. Blaine had always been such a good kid; almost too good. He never talked back, he never caused any trouble at school, he never swore or spilled juice on the tablecloth.

She was proud of him, for sure, but she always worried that there might be something he was keeping to himself. She worried that maybe he didn't know how proud she was of him; she worried he worked too hard and was too critical and judgmental on himself.

Blaine shrugged again and sighed, putting down his fork. "Quinn and I broke up," he said, looking away. "But it's not a big deal."

His mother reached out and squeezed his hand which was lying on the table. He tried to smile but didn't quite manage it.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. "Don't worry though, it's her loss anyways."

Blaine didn't bother telling her that he had been the one to end it. He watched as she stood up and walked back over to the counter.

"Tell me what you want for dinner tonight. I can make anything you'd like. We'll have a family night; maybe watch a movie or something?"

Blaine looked down at his lap. "Actually," he said. "I was going to go to a friend's house tonight if that's okay. He, uh...we were just going to have a sleepover or something; you know, video games and junk food and that sort of stuff. He said it would, um, make me feel better." He was rambling, trying to make himself sound natural.

His mother nodded enthusiastically, smiling. "Of course that's alright. I think it will be good for you to have a night off, take a break from all the work you're doing. I've said it a thousand times, but you work so hard, Blaine." She stopped for a moment to take a long look at him. "Your father and I are both very proud of you."

School was normal. Blaine liked that. It was normal, and predictable, and safe. Today though, he was a little distracted. Thanks to Facebook, the entire school knew he had broken up with Quinn, and for some strange reason, people seemed to think that it was the most important and pressing issue.

"Dude," Wes came up to him as he was walking into school. "What happened with you and Quinn? You guys were perfect for each other."

"Thanks, Wes," Blaine could hear how tired he sounded. "And I don't know why, we just did."

By the time he made it to history, he was sick of people asking him about Quinn. When the teacher started the lecture, it was like heaven. Everybody shut up, faced forward, and took notes. No one would bother him for the next fifty-five minutes.

When the bell rang, Blaine purposely took his time putting his stuff back into his backpack. He could hear the rest of the class filing out; the sound of their footsteps and laughter echoing off the ceilings. After a moment, the room fell silent and he turned around, prepared to head to his next class, only to come face-to-face with Kurt.

"Hi," Kurt said, adjusting the books in his arms. "Um, I wanted to ask you what time you'd like to come over tonight. Assuming you still want to, of course. It's perfectly fine if you—"

"No, I want to come," Blaine said, quickly. "Um, I'm free after soccer practice. I can be there around 6:00."

Kurt smiled and Blaine couldn't help but notice how…pretty he looked, his skin so pale and delicate. Blaine was suddenly aware how completely alone the two of them were; even the teacher had left. Kurt seemed to realize it too and his cheeks instantly flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"I should get going," he stammered. "Trigonometry," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you at six." He headed for the door before Blaine could reply. A second later, however, he popped his head back in.

"Do you like to cook?" He asked. Blaine nodded, not trusting himself to talk right now. Most likely, words would have eluded him.

It wasn't until Blaine was in the locker room, gym bag in hand, sweaty and out of breath from running, that he realized what he was about to do. All of a sudden, panic hit him full force and he sank to the ground, his heart pounding, sending impulses along the tips of his fingers. A locker slams shut and makes him jump; a moment later, the last of the soccer team troops out, leaving Blaine completely alone.

Nerves get the best of him and he finds himself throwing up the electric blue Gatorade he drank before practice. His skin was hot and clammy, his hands shaking from the nerves and fright building up in his stomach. His throat burned from the acidity that had just ripped through it; his eyes watering and his chest heaving.

He turned on the tap and splashed some of the cold water onto his face, trying to calm himself down. The clock on the wall said he was 5:47. Kurt would be expecting him soon. Blaine took a deep breath and grabbed his stuff. I can always just tell Kurt I don't want to, he told himself.

When he pulled up to Kurt's house, he immediately jumped out of the car and walked up to the front door before he could talk himself out of it. He knocked because his hand was shaking too much to pinpoint the doorbell. He hears the sound echo through the house; and a moment later, Kurt opened the door, looking eager and excited.

"Come in," he stepped aside to let Blaine pass through. "I was just getting the stuff ready; we're making pizza!" He grins and pulls Blaine into the kitchen. "I wasn't sure what kind you liked, so I got a smorgasbord of toppings to choose from."

Blaine felt himself grin. "Smorgasbord?"

Kurt blushed. "Please don't think I'm a nerd."

They both laughed, sounding a little forced, but it was enough to break the surface layer of awkwardness.

An hour later, Kurt proclaimed the pizza done, and they snuggled down on the couch with their food. Blaine felt himself tense up as Kurt's foot bumped his own, sending a combination of nerves and excitement shoot up through his system.

"Tell me more about yourself," Kurt said through a mouthful of pizza. "I know you have a sister, and I know you play soccer…what else?"

Blaine broke off a piece of the crust and watched as the steam curled and twisted into the air. "Well," he said. "I'm addicted to Nutella, I hum Twinkle-Twinkle every time I brush my teeth, and…" he thought for a moment. "I secretly want one of those animal hats, but my problem is I can't choose which one to buy."

Kurt looked at him for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Sorry," he said, gasping for breath. "I don't mean to laugh, it's just that is so…" he was cut off again by another round of laughter. "Adorable," he finished, taking in a big breath.

Blaine blushed; and tied to suppress the nervous feeling he had growing. Picking at the pepperoni on his pizza, Blaine turned his eyes to Kurt.

"It's your turn. You have to tell me something embarrassing about you."

"But that wasn't embarrassing," Kurt argued. "It was cute."

"Fine then, tell me something cute about you."

Kurt's cheeks tinted that pretty pink again. "Um…when I floss, I use those dinosaur flossers that are multicolored and make it easier to reach the teeth in the way back of your mouth."

Slowly, through embarrassing stories and random facts, the two of them began to feel more comfortable with each other. Blaine let himself laugh and smile at Kurt without over analyzing it. He let himself stare as Kurt's mouth moved quickly, forming strings of words that sounded like a lullaby.

It wasn't until they stopped and looked around that they realized how dark it had become outside. A quick glance up at the clock tells them that they've spent a good three hours talking. Kurt sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. When he turned back to Blaine, there was a different look on his face.

"So," he said, "Do you still want to?"

Blaine felt like he was going to be sick again. His lips were dry, his throat was dry, his head was spinning. But it seemed as if his body had overpowered his mind; moving in ways that he didn't tell it to.

He felt himself nod. He sat there, motionless, as Kurt slowly leaned forward. And then he felt it, soft and warm, comforting and whole. The kiss was short, but it lingered. And when Kurt pulled away, Blaine could still feel where his lips had been.

Blaine opened his eyes; only realizing then that he had closed them. They sat opposite each other, neither of them talking. Blaine's mind was screaming at him the lines of the book he had read over and over, and thousand times burned into his memory.

But it didn't seem to matter; at least not right then. All Blaine knew was that he'd never felt so complete before. He'd never felt so wanted.

"Again," he felt himself whisper.

And then Kurt's hands were on him; pulling him closer, lips pressing against the side of Blaine's mouth, working small kisses along his jawline. Blaine felt himself sigh, his whole body relaxing into Kurt's arms.

"More," he begged, tugging at Kurt's shirt, pressing his mouth down hard on Kurt's. After a moment of struggling, Kurt pulled away, breathless.

"Wait," he said. "We should probably talk about this first."

Blaine groaned and leaned forward, trying to persuade another kiss out of Kurt.

"Please, Kurt, please," he begged.

"Once we talk," Kurt promised.

And a question for you guys-more Quinn or no? I have a couple ideas for how it could go, but I'd love to hear your input!