I've been struggling to work out who Blaine reminds me of since I met him. He looks so familiar, but I can't ever place him. That is, until today. I just assumed he reminded me of some or other celebrity, but it turns out that he looks familiar because we've met before.

Turns out he was the lead singer of the Warblers, another show choir back in Ohio, where we both hail from. There were a few times where we exchanged shy hellos at competitions, but we never really learned each other's names. We both laugh at how amazing it is that we would end up in the same room at college and I freak out inside because nothing that perfect could ever be real.

Still, it seems pretty real.

"It's weird, because you always, sort of… caught my attention," says Blaine as we lie on our Blaine's bed next to each other watching Evita on his laptop. This small, almost off-hand comment completely catches me off-guard and my head snaps up suddenly, making me look like a complete idiot. I quickly compose myself. The last thing I want to do is give anything away.

"Well, I am sort of an attention-grabber," I say, knowing that there's a telling blush creeping across my cheeks. I pretend that I don't know that Blaine has noticed it. Perhaps he'll just assume that it's because I'm not used to receiving compliments – which I'm not really, and even less so from gorgeous men who I'm pretty sure I'm in love with.

Although I feel I've dodged a bullet, I'm now hyper-aware of the fact that our bodies are touching and that we are sharing the same blanket. Who's idea was this anyway? My heart skips a beat as I realise it was Blaine's. But I can't let myself think like that. It doesn't mean anything.

"Kurt," says Blaine, his voice shaking as if he's crying… or nervous.

"Yeah?" I say, knowing from the tone of his voice that whatever he's about to say now is going to be important. It's ridiculous to believe that it might be about what I hope it is. It's more than likely something personal he wants to get off his chest and I should prepare myself accordingly.

"Um… okay, I know we've only officially been friends for a few weeks, but I feel like I've known you for years."

"That's because you have, remember?" I say raising an eyebrow.

"No, I mean like, I've known you known you. Not in the Biblical sense though!" he adds hastily and I almost fall off the bed because where did that come from? I wasn't even thinking that. "I just mean it feels like we've been friends forever. But I'm scared that if you feel like that, you might not… I mean you won't…"

"Blaine, what are you trying to say?" I ask. He isn't making any sense and what I need more than anything right now is clarity.

"I'm trying to ask you out, but I think I'm failing horribly," says Blaine and my heart actually stops.

He didn't say that. There's no way he just said that.

"K-Kurt?" he asks with a small stammer and I'm suddenly aware of how nervous he is. Is he really that afraid of what my answer might be?

"I… um… I've actually been trying to work up the courage to do the same," I say with a shy smile.

"Really?" asks Blaine.

"Yeah, ever since the night after… you know when you brought me the breakfast?"

"Wow, it's a good thing I didn't ask you before then," says Blaine letting out a small relieved laugh.

"You mean you… you… for longer?" I ask, my powers of articulation severely diminished by amazement and craziness of my current situation.

"Yeah, like since I got here and you sat me down to explain your routine and schedule. I've had a tiny crush on you since the show choir days but being around you and getting to know you just sort of intensified it. I didn't want to make things awkward by asking you out because we would practically never talk to each other. But I just couldn't keep it in any longer."

I try to process this, but it's a lot to take in. Blaine's always had a small crush on me. He's wanted to ask me out for ages. He asked me out.

Finally it seems to have sunk in enough for me to continue like a normal person.

"So what did you have in mind?" I ask.

"I was thinking of taking you to see Wicked, since I know it's one of your favourites and since I've never seen it," he says. "But I don't know if that's too much for a first date…"

"Tell you what," I say, hardly daring to believe that Blaine is real. There's no way I've managed to find a guy who will take me to Wicked on Broadway without having to be hinted to. "I'll take you out for coffee first and then it'll technically be the second date. You have to see Wicked and I'd be honoured to be your company."

"Okay, deal," says Blaine, knocking his shoulder against mine and I can't help the warm, fuzzy feeling that creeps through my body. I'm going out for coffee and to see one of my favourite Broadway shows with Blaine. I have to restrain myself from flailing on the bed in happiness.

As Eva Peron embarks on her Rainbow Tour, I feel no real embarrassment in moving a little closer to Blaine and laying my head on his shoulder. It feels so completely perfect that I momentarily forget to breathe. I can't stop the grin that crosses my face when he rests his head on mine.

I'm fast asleep within minutes.