I had been wrong.

Kurt apologizing on a red napkin, practically anonymous, hadn't been a message for us to talk. No, it was just a simply apology with an invisible "it was nice to meet you; so long and farewell" attached. It was a slight punch in the gut, especially when I had called him outside the bar, stuttering like a virgin teen who was about to get a taste of his very first muff (or cock...which ever). He never answered my call and I was faced with his chipper voice, instructing me to leave a message so he could get back to me. Sure. I'll believe that when you tell me pigs can fly and rendezvous with unicorns in Narnia.

I didn't leave a voicemail. What would I say? Hey, Kurt, it's Blaine...you know that guy who payed you to fuck him? Yeah, well, I love you. We should get married, have a family and live happily ever after in some gay paradise! Does that sound cool with you? Hit me up.

Even I had to admit that I wasn't pathetic enough for that. Though, I was a coward - that remained true.

The next morning I awoke to my phone buzzing, alerting me of an incoming text. I reached for it, groaning at the fact that I had to get up and go back to work. Facing my father, Wes and David was not something I wanted to do, especially with where my life was headed: nowhere. The cellphone screen was bright and I dramatically screeched. When I was sure my eyes could take the sting I read the text, my heart pounding at the sigh of Kurt's name.

As much as we need to talk, it would be best if we didn't. I'm sorry. I wish the best for you.

x Kurt

There it was. Two sorries in less than twenty-four hours. Unwanted progress I wouldn't let myself dwell on. Instead I got out of bed and prepared for a day of obligated work.

I did my best not to think about him, but of course his beautiful, stupid face would appear when all other thoughts drifted from mind. It was healthy thinking of him, I figured. More so of the negatives than the positives, that way I could tell myself that he wasn't good enough for me, that he and I weren't meant to be, that he and I would destroy each other somehow. Unfortunately he and I hadn't spent enough time together to see each other's flaws and vices. Perhaps it was a good thing that we didn't know much about each other; we could easily forget. We'd both been in a situation that wasn't normal and we've seemed to bounce back from it pretty okay.

Being back at work wasn't agonizing like I thought it would be. If I was being honest with myself, I made it seem like a horrible place because I guess part of me wanted it to be. I wanted something to complain about and something that would make me feel like I had to leave it. I guess I was forcing some type of motivation for me to have a life I've always wanted when in reality, I was pretty okay with what I had under my feet. I had great friends and a semi-normal family. My job payed well and I really appreciated it, not that I let anyone in on that. And as I pulled into the parking lot behind the building, I realized that I had been far too stuck in denial and wondered where all this realization came from.

I tried to push the sudden epiphanies and resolves and made my way to my office, smiling politely at the faces that greeted me happily. My office was stuffy, mostly from the same air being closed in while I was out. I kept my door wide open and placed my bag on the desk in the middle. I went to the windows and opened them, shivering a bit at the cool air rushing in. I turned on my computer and slipped off my jacket, smiling to myself as I took a seat in my chair. Bethany, my secretary, came in with a few notes, filling me on what I've missed and what was happening. I was surprised that I didn't have a butt-load of work to do, but she told me that my father had taken care of it.

It didn't take long for him to come in. He looked happy enough, but there was a sort of spark in his eye that seemed to be waiting for a perfect moment to pounce. I sighed and asked myself if I was ready to fight with him.

"Wes said that you had fun in Vegas," he began.

I nodded. "Yeah. I really needed that. Thanks for letting me go."

His eyes narrowed at me through his glasses and I could tell he was wondering if I had gotten hit in the head or something.

"Are you all right, Blaine? You seem..." Even he couldn't describe what was going on with me.

"I'm fine. Just ready to get back to work. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

He cleared his throat and looked down on the floor, his brown shoes rubbing against the carpet.

"Who's Kurt Hummel?" I felt my mouth open, but no words came out. "I know he's here in Ohio, but how do you know him?"

"Through mutual friends," I responded.

He nodded and scratched his eyebrow. "And what's your relationship towards him? Friends...boyfriends..."

"We're nothing."

He nodded once more and turned around and slowly made his way to the door. Calmly he shut it. Never a good sign.

"Did Wes tell you about Kurt?" I asked, my hands balling into fists in my lap.

"Wes didn't mention a thing about him. He's a good friend," my dad said, his tone growing deep.

"I sure hope so," I muttered.

My dad looked me dead on and shook his head. "I know about everything. About him. About the money."

"How'd you find out?"

"An anonymous tipper," he stated. "Honestly, Blaine, where did I go wrong with you?"

I laughed without humor. "Geez, Father...I really wonder where."

"I knew that you had some issues, but never did I think you'd go and do something like this. He's six years younger than you."

I was about to rebuttal, tell him that age didn't matter. But then I remembered that I didn't need to defend Kurt. He and I were nothing to each other and everything was over.

I took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, my shoulders relaxing and my fingers easing out of the fists I had made.

"It's over with. You don't have to worry about him or me or anything else," I said lifelessly.

"What do you expect me to do about this, Blaine? Walk away and let things go?" His voice was calm and quiet, and I literally felt my stomach drop.

"I'm fired, aren't I?"

"Yes. I can't have you jeopardizing this company."

Nodding, I stood up and pulled my jacket back on and put my things back in my bag. I felt my dad's eyes on me as I slowly got my things together and left the office. I went unnoticed by most the workers in their cubicals, but a few of them that had known me for a long time could tell that something was up. Wes spotted me and cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"Blaine, what's up?" he asked. Without stopping to talk I only shrugged and told him I was fired. Hushed whispers went around the building and before giving anyone a chance to ask why or say goodbye I was already in my car and on my way to my apartment.

They always said there's a calm before a storm. I prayed that it wasn't true; this was the calmest I have ever been.

-:-

Nearing five o'clock there was a knock at my door. I unwilling paused a repeat episode of the Bad Girl's Club (I had a thing for catty girls) and opened it, trying my best to greet my two best friends who were making their way in.

"You're dad's a dick!" David chimed. "Why the fuck did he fire you?"

"Dee, leave it," Wes muttered as he pulled off his wet jacket and placed it on the coat rack.

David scoffed. "No way! Sure Blaine's a bit of an asshole but he didn't deserve to get fired."

"Thanks," I replied at the chance.

He tore off his own coat and put it where it goes. "Seriously, dude, why? Wes won't tell me why."

I glanced at Wes. He looked away and distracted himself with the movies on the coffee table.

"I'm taking it that Wes knows why, then, and if that's the case then I may have to end my friendship with him," I declared.

Wes snapped his attention to me. "I don't know why! I swear, Blaine. I did not say a single thing to your dad about him."

"Then how do you know I got fired over him?" I challenged.

"After you left your dad called me into his office and told me that you told him that I knew about Kurt and had lied to him about you being with anyone in Vegas."

David put his palms up and blinked. "Whoa. Who is Kurt?"

"Not right now, Dee," I hissed. I was too busy being pissed at Wes to explain anything. In the corner of my eye I could see him huff and cross his arms dramatically. He sat on my couch and un-paused my show and I knew that I'd have to take my anger out on him next.

"How did he find out about him, though? The only one who knew was you."

Wes clucked his tongue. "Was I?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah. I mean, when I got back home I did tell people that I had been with someone but I never mentioned anything about him."

"That's not what I meant," he said.

I shrugged. "Then what?"

"In Vegas. Was I the only one to find out about him?"

There was this look in his eyes, almost as if everything he was saying was pointless. And the way he had his arms crossed over his chest and the tapping of his foot proved that I was missing something.

"What do you know, Wes?"

He let out a breath and his body relaxed. "Other people knew about him being with you. One of them told your dad everything. Who would have done that?"

"The only people who saw us together were the staff and strangers. Kurt had a friend there and we pretended to be boyfriends. And then there was..." uh-oh "fuck."

"What?" Wes and David blurted at the same time.

"I bumped into Sam."

David coughed. "You mean trouty mouth Sam?"

"Yes."

"What happened?" Wes asked, taking a seat next to David so he could put the television on mute. The screaming and bleeps on the TV was a distraction.

"Kurt and I were having dinner and I went to the bathroom and when I came back Sam was sitting at the table talking to him. I managed to get him alone and he was scolding me for being with Kurt or some stupid shit like that."

"But you didn't tell him who Kurt was exactly, right?" Wes asked, trying to seem hopeful.

"No. Not a thing," I replied. "Unless Kurt told him, but I'm pretty sure that isn't that case."

"How do you know? Maybe he's more willing to tell the truth," David butted in.

"Trust me, guys. I think Kurt would rather kill himself before he told anyone about me or what happened."

"Are you sure about that?" Wes threw out. "I know that you like him and want to trust him, but maybe he told someone."

I didn't want to admit it, but they were right. Even though it seemed unlikely that Kurt would tell anyone about me or Vegas or the money, it still didn't mean that it couldn't happen. But if he did, why would he? Unless he hated me enough to try to make my life a living hell. That seemed just as unlikely, seeing as how I gave him ten-thousand dollars that I could actually use myself, what with being fired and all. If Kurt had said anything to anyone, who would he tell? If it was Sam the only question would be: why? Sam was a stranger to Kurt, and sure I had told him that Sam and I had been together once before that didn't mean it should matter whether or not he knew.

I could see him coming clean to Mercedes. Though, she wouldn't run off to tell on me to my dad. She'd kill me. Maybe Kurt told my dad himself. The was likely. But it wasn't like him. Kurt had too much pride to give in and sell-out, and after seeing him hate himself after accepting money for sex sure as hell proved that he wasn't willing to let it happen again. He was stubborn and bitchy, not a snitch.

How the fuck did my dad find out about this because it sure as hell was not Kurt.

I fished out my cellphone and called Kurt. He may have wanted to end all ties with me but I had to fix this. Not only had my ass been on the line but his was involved now. Unsurprisingly he didn't answer, and instead of being a pussy I left a message.

"Hey. Uhm. We need to talk as soon as possible. And I know that you said we shouldn't but it's really important. I got fired today...my dad knew, Kurt. About Vegas. I'm not sure how but I think we need to figure something out before something bad happens." I realized I was shaking and did my best to control my tremors. "The Lima Bean isn't too far from your work, so what if we meet up there around noon? I'll be there. Bye."

"Is anyone going to tell me who this Kurt is?" David asked in a whiny tone. Wes sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Tell him," I ordered as I headed to my room. I could feel their eyes on me as I shut the door. It wasn't polite to leave them, but I was exhausted and I needed sleep. Through my covers I could hear Wes tell David about Kurt. I could hear him describing him (I did manage to put it into words I would have used); blue eyes that pulled you in, adorable brown hair that was rich and fine and healthy, pale skin that was splotched with pink, a thin body that was just meant to hold, a face made for expressions to be seen and stories to be told. Kurt was so perfect to look at and I prayed to God that I would be able to see him again, even if it meant it would be the last time.

If I was going to get a second chance to say goodbye it wouldn't be meaningless like the last time. I'd make sure it was the greatest thing I did.

-:-

I was jittery as I took a sip of my coffee. I didn't need any more caffeine, but it gave me a purpose to be at The Lima Bean other than waiting. I checked my watch compulsively, sometimes making an attempt to slow down time using my mind. The noon hour was almost over and he hadn't showed up. I had finished my third cup of coffee and I knew my body couldn't handle much more of the hot brew. I was losing hope and I tried to get up to leave but my body wouldn't move. It would be easy to get up and move on with my life but I just wouldn't. He would come. He had to.

But he didn't. He didn't show up and I couldn't wait anymore. I got up out my chair, my body feeling like a sack of bricks as I went to the door. My hand shook as I reached the handle as I ran into a body as I stepped out.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my voice sounding like I was choking back tears.

"Sorry I'm late," the voice replied.

I looked up and he was there, his cheeks red and hair wind-blown. He wearing a black jacket that seemed to be mis-buttoned, which seemed silly since it was Kurt and he tried to be a perfectionist with the way he looked.

"My lunch is at one. I had to run here."

"It's all right," I replied.

Kurt walked passed me and into the building. Walking up to the counter he flashed a warm grin at the lady making coffee and asked for his usual. Within seconds the woman was handing him a coffee cup. He thanked her, paid for it and made his way to a table.

"Aren't you going to get something?" he asked me, his eyes not meeting mine.

I smiled as I sat. "I've been here for an hour. I'm all coffee'd out."

"Right. Sorry."

He sipped his coffee and glanced around the building until he had no choice but to settle his eyes on me.

"How are things?" I asked.

He smiled to himself. "Pretty great. I've been able to do some things that I've wanted to do for a while. I have to sleep in the living room now, though. My room's become something out of a Hoarders episode."

"Let me guess: clothes."

"You know it," he said with a laugh. "What about you?"

"Besides being fired? Pretty okay."

"That really sucks."

I nodded. "It's not like I can't get a new job. I won't keel over because of this."

"I didn't say anything to anyone, Blaine. I thought you should know that."

"I figured as much. I just wondered who told him."

"I think the better question is why," Kurt stated.

"That is a better question," I replied. He smiled and nodded.

We stopped talking momentarily and I did my best to not watch him drink his coffee. We preoccupied ourselves with our cellphones as we waited for a topic to be thrown out, or until we could figure out who found out.

"You remember Sam, right?" I asked.

He nodded. "I didn't say anything to him."

"That's good," I said, relieved. "Did he try to pry out any information?"

Kurt thought it over. "Well, the first time we met...I think he was hitting on me so I talked about you. I didn't tell him we were official or anything, I just said that I was here with you. I did admit being your boyfriend to him later on."

"What else did you say to him?"

"He asked if I was native to Nevada and I told him I'm from Ohio." He groaned. "I guess he does know that I went with you."

I mentally cursed. "Then how did he figure out about the whole situation?"

He shrugged. "I have no clue, Blaine. Honestly I think we should just you know...let this slide. Maybe it will go away?"

"I guess you're right. After all, whoever found out went to my dad. He wouldn't be willing to let anyone else find out. It might ruin his reputation."

Kurt just took another sip.

"How long is your lunch?" I asked.

"Not long. I have to go back in about ten minutes," he sighed.

"Want a ride?"

It surprised me when he said yes.

Together we left the coffee place and walked to my car. I turned the volume of the stereo down and buckled my seat belt. Kurt did the same and put his coffee in the cup holder near the stick shift.

"It's supposed to rain all week," he said. "I really hate the rain. Not only does it ruin my hair but it's bad on quite a few of my outfits."

"Well, stop wearing dry-clean only clothes," I stated, laughing.

He clucked his tongue. "Please. Like I'd wear something that wasn't expensive."

"Money doesn't grow on trees, Kurt."

"Tell me something I don't know."

I laughed at him and he laughed back, and I realized how much I missed our banter.

I pulled up to the club and reminisced about the first time I met him. I guess Kurt was doing the same because he had a small smile on his lips.

"Why don't we want to be friends, Kurt?" I asked.

"Because it's easier than facing the inevitable truth about how we feel about each other," he replied, looking shocked that he knew the answer.

"And how do we feel about each other?"

He turned and looked at me, his eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he blinked slowly. "How do you feel about me?"

I smiled. "I love you."

He smiled back and his hand found mine. He intertwined our fingers and I watched him as he stared down at our hands.

"What a coincidence," he stated. "I love you, too."

I leaned over and pressed my lips against his and he obliged to them, his own pressing back. He pulled away, biting his lip to keep from smiling.

"I have to go. But I want to see you again," he said, his free hand on the handle as his other slowly made it's way out of mine.

"Same here. What time do you get off work?"

"Nine. Tuesdays are the only day of the week where I don't work graveyard hours. You can come pick me up," he suggested.

"I'll be here," I replied. He smiled and left the car and I watched as he entered the building with a man with a mohawk.

I pulled out and headed back to my place, smiling to myself. It was ironic. Instead of saying goodbye to Kurt I had said hello and it was so much better than the first time I had met him.

But the best thing about all of this is that he had said it back; those three words that I've refused to say since I was a teenager. I said them. He said them back. This was better than I could have imagined.

Ending Note: Something weird happened while I was writing. The first bit up to the sentence after Kurt's text was all written on paper, and then I sat down and typed that up and the words sort of just fell out and this weird energy kind of came out of Blaine and I couldn't stop it. Seriously. I'm just stunned at how great and easy this chapter came out.