AN: Thank you all so goddamn much for the reviews and support and adding me/my story to your alerts/favorites and basically being awesome as all hell. I said this on tumblr, but it bears repeating. My family goes around as we're eating Thanksgiving dinner and we talk about the things we're grateful for, in this kind of continual mess of thanks. And at one point, I did mention the people who reviewed me. I was so damn nervous about posting, and the reaction I got was so far from what I expected. I love this community, and I adore you all. Here's another chapter. I'm gonna go do dishes and then I have a billion ideas rolling around so I'll probably be updating soon-ish.

Oh, and I'll be editing the first chapter soon. I have a really old computer and my version of Open Office makes formatting difficult, hence the really awkward transition in scenes.

Again, reviews are made of win. And crit too. It's important. You guys don't know me, so your point of view is extra important to me. 3 3 3

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The great thing about crushing one someone in Show Choir, Blaine admitted, was that when you typed their name into YouTube, you found videos of them. Sometimes, you found quite a few videos.

New Directions, for all of their spying and being spied on, seemed to post every song they ever performed online. And it wasn't just their performances as a group. Oh, no. They also seemed to have individual members sing their own songs for the group, or a couple of singers together, just to keep things interesting. There were even videos taken at a much lower quality, phone quality, that made it seem like life in New Directions was like life in a musical, impromptu song and dance numbers where everyone knew the words and all.

Blaine spent his entire Saturday online. He'd asked Kurt if he was busy, but he was. Actually, Blaine had felt a little brushed off with the "Sorry, have to go shopping." He got in response to his text. Firstly, he knew Kurt cared a lot about fashion- it was one of the sexiest things about him, the clothes he wore every day- but he definitely did not need to go shopping. The boy had a closet full of designer clothes he'd never even worn yet, just waiting for the right day or the right flux in the fashion world to say it was stylish. And secondly, Blaine was gay. He was beyond gay. And in a completely stereotype-perpetuating way, he loved shopping. He'd gone shopping with Kurt before. It had been a month, two weeks, and a day since they'd met, and suddenly he was getting blown off for clothes.

There was something funny going on, Blaine decided. Kurt had been acting weird all week. They had coffee on Monday, and he had been the very picture of bubbly. Talking about the wedding, and Karofsky getting expelled, and music and art and movies and Blaine's life and everything.

But Tuesday? Tuesday was weird. Kurt, for the first time ever, didn't answer Blaine's texts. He was used to waiting a while for responses, because they were both in school and they had to be careful not to get caught. After a couple of hours, Blaine had assumed just that had happened- Kurt had been texing him back, and he got caught. But no explanation had come. Blaine didn't hear from him until the next morning.

Kurt:

Hey, what's up?

Blaine:

Did you get my text yesterday?

Kurt:

You texted me? Huh. Phone must've deleted it.

Something was fishy. It wasn't that Blaine didn't trust Kurt to tell him the truth. It wasn't even a big deal. It was just that it didn't sound like Kurt. It sounded, frankly, like the Kurt who had to have his emotions coaxed out of him. The guarded, upset, and unsteady Kurt Blaine thought had been chased away by a happier Kurt. Especially since Karofsky wasn't there to make Kurt's life hell- Shit. Karofsky.

Blaine:

Kurt, is something going on with Karofsky again? Is he harassing you outside of school?

Kurt:

No, I haven't seen even a toenail of Karofsky since he was expelled. Don't worry.

So Blaine tried not to worry. He reminded himself that they were close, and Kurt would tell him if something was going on. They didn't text again that day, which was weird, since Kurt usually sent him funny or stupid quotes from his teachers and classmates, asked about Blaine's day, initiated conversations. It was easy to get the message. Kurt didn't want to talk to him that day. So he didn't.

Wednesday, Kurt sent Blaine the most confusing text message he'd ever received.

Kurt:

Thinking of you.

That was it. No "Hey, just wondering what's up, was bored, thought I'd see how you're doing". Just "Thinking of you." Blaine spent over a minute staring at his phone, having no idea what to say. How was he supposed to respond to that? It was the vaguest thing anyone could ever say, he was convinced of this. Why was he thinking of him? How was he thinking of him? Why was this important enough to text in the middle of the day? In fact- and he felt like a stalker just for knowing this- Kurt should be in the class where his teacher actually took their phones as they walked in the door. How was Kurt texting him? Did he skip class?

Crazy images of Kurt leaving school, driving to Dalton, and showing up to profess his undying love for Blaine in front of his entire class made their way into his mind. He shook them free, and looked back down at his phone. Sighing, he typed out the only two characters that he could manage.

Blaine:

:)

God, that was pathetic. What did that even mean? He could just see Kurt getting that text and interpreting it into a million different things, everywhere from "You're weirding me out a little" to "I'm in love with you" to "Meet me in the supply closet on the third floor and have your way with me".

Okay, so maybe that last one wasn't likely.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, and Blaine didn't expect much. The first thing he did when he woke up was text Kurt, wishing him a happy turkey day. With how little they'd said to each other that week, he was not expecting a call a few minutes later.

"Hey Kurt." He said, happy as always at the thought of hearing the boys voice. It was the best anticipation, knowing for sure he'd hear it, just waiting for him to speak.

"Blaine?" Kurt sounded a bit muffled and out of breath, like he was trying to talk quietly while jogging.

"Yeah?"

"I'm making Thanksgiving dinner with Carole. I don't think I'll have another moment today, so I wanted to call you now and let you know that I'm so thankful that I know you."

"Really?" Ugh. Again with the sounding pathetic. Thank god Kurt wasn't in the room with him, because he was half in shock and half having issues not squeaking, and he didn't think that even Kurt's presence in his room could prevent him from flailing his arms in front of him like a muppet, as he happened to be doing that very moment.

"Really. Blaine- you've helped me a lot. You've been there for me when no one else was, and you stayed with me even when things didn't suck. I'm not just some charity case for you and that means a lot. I know we've only known each other for like, A month, a week, and six days-"

"Ow!" Blaine exclaimed.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, sounding confused.

"Um, yeah," He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But, as he had just fallen off of his bed and onto the floor because a boy knew how long they'd known each other, he doubted it was working. "Just- stubbed my toe." Lame excuse, Blaine. He chastised himself.

"Oh." Kurt's voice was a little flustered now, like he was having trouble figuring out what to say next.

"I'm thankful that I know you too." Blaine said in a rush, before he could chicken out.

"Oh!" Kurt's response was, actually, even more flustered now.

"You're cool, Kurt," Cool? Is that the best you can come up with? "You've never been a charity case. Just someone I knew I wanted." Oh shit. Didn't mean to end that sentence there. "To, um, get to know." Did Kurt really gasp there? He couldn't tell if he really did or he'd made it up. It was probably his imagination.

"And getting to know you has totally lived up to expectations. Yeah. I'm thankful."

"Well," Kurt said. Blaine knew that tone of voice. Could see the shy smile. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving."

Blaine hung up.

But Friday- Friday just sucked. Friday, Blaine didn't hear a thing from Kurt. He'd made a promise to himself, that he wouldn't try to hard. That he wouldn't get upset if Kurt didn't have time for him, because he wasn't the boyfriend. He was just the friend. And he was the supportive friend, the friend who was there for Kurt no matter what was going on with himself, and he didn't need any reciprocation. And as he reminded himself of that, he knew it was true. If Kurt didn't talk to him for years, blew him off, hooked up with boys who weren't him, and then suddenly texted him and asked if they could talk, Blaine would say yes. And that kinda sucked. Like his entire day.

Kurt didn't text him. Kurt updated his status on facebook, but wasn't showing up in the chat. Blaine didn't really think that Kurt was purposely not talking to him. But part of him wondered. And part of him worried. And part of him went over the conversation they'd had the day before, and decided he'd scared him off with Freudian slips telling him that he wanted him.

David and Wes tried to convince him otherwise, of course. They tried to tell him that he was being silly, Kurt was probably just busy, Kurt wanted to have his babies so he clearly wasn't avoiding him. But nothing worked. Because Blaine knew that Kurt got through his busy days by talking to him. He'd said so himself. And now he wasn't talking to him. The only clear explanation was that Blaine was a horrible person.

And these were the thoughts that ran through his mind, which led to Blaine lying in bed in his boxers and nothing else, stalking Kurt on YouTube. It was hard to tell which video was his favorite. He loved the one that had been done like the Vogue music video, starring the cheerleading coach at McKinley. Kurt wasn't in it much, but when he was- the serious look on his face, the way he moved his hands- it was enchanting. And the video was high quality, so he could see the details better. At the very end, he did this flippy thing with his hand, and one of his fingers trailed at his lower lip. Blaine couldn't stop watching that part, his boxers pulling at his groin the more times he did.

But that wasn't all. There was a video from the first boys vs. girls competition New Directions had, Kurt more dressed down than he had ever seen him. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, and it was insanely hot. And though he didn't have any solos, Blaine got a thrill every time he recognized Kurt's voice in the harmonies, his falsetto one of the most impressive things he'd ever heard.

And then there were the ones where Kurt actually had solos. The ones where the camera focused on the boy and Blaine could see the happy glint in his eye he got from being on stage. Bad Romance was purely stunning, and no other word even came close to describing it. It wasn't really a surprise that people where harassing Kurt so much. It was wrong, and he didn't deserve it, but there was still no way any boy could get away with wearing heels like that without getting the shit kicked out of him. Seeing the way Kurt kept on putting himself out there, not backing down, being unflinchingly himself- seeing it made Blaine feel a rush of emotions varying from admiration to shame.

He'd shared with Kurt. He'd told him that he ran, told him that he wasn't strong enough, tried to help him make the kind of choices he wished he'd made. But he hadn't been able to tell him everything. Because every time they spoke, Blaine was struck with just how much Kurt went through. He was struck with the pain and the frustration and disappointment.

And Blaine had been through a lot of that. Some of what had happened to him was worse. But most of it was better. It was less constant, for one thing. He didn't feel dogged. There was never one person, out for his blood. He'd felt like the whole school thought he was worthless, and then he'd been told he was worthless. He'd been shoved around too, attacked verbally and every once and a while, physically. But he'd never had that one person after him. He couldn't imagine how frightening that was.

He saw things with Kurt and he thanked god that he hadn't had a Karofsky at his school. Because he'd lost himself. Hell, he wasn't sure he knew who he was anymore, and he hadn't had to deal with that hell-hole for over a year. He tried to fade away so that nobody paid any attention to him. He didn't talk to anyone if he could help it. He just... paled. And besides one instance where Kurt tried to be macho- which, incidentally, Blaine found to be the most adorable story he'd ever heard- and made out with a girl- which, incidentally, Blaine found to make his stomach churn in jealousy-, he'd stuck to it. Kurt was the very definition of gay pride, and sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if he really needed him.

You're an idiot. Kurt's been bearly holding it together. He's needed someone. You're that person for him. You know that. Stop angsting. But it didn't work. He could beat himself up for doubting it all day, but it didn't change the fact that nothing short of Kurt kissing him until his lips were sore was going to convince him that he wasn't a failure.

As if to prove to Blaine just how great Kurt had been doing without him, the next video he clicked on was Le Jazz Hot. He'd heard all about it- the shitty way Finn talked to Kurt, how he'd convinced him not to let his gay rub off on Sam, how Kurt decided to sing a duet by himself.

Kurt had told him about it. Kurt had even sung the song to him over the phone one night. But that was nothing compared to the horrible quality video that was wobbly and had major issues focusing. Because one thing Kurt had failed to mention while telling the story was that he had been dancing onstage with an absolute mass of boys in suits. Sexy boys in suits. Sexy boys in suits who were carrying him about the stage, their hands all over him. And Kurt just looked so pleased, surrounded by those boys and his gorgeous voice and kicking all the ass there was to kick.

And just when he was getting over the aching to be there, next to Kurt, and it was begining to settle into a dull pounding in his chest, Kurt had to go and hit the most ridiculous note in the history of notes too high for boys to be allowed to sing without having sold their souls to the devil. It gave him goosebumps.

But nothing in the world could've prepared Blaine for the extreme hard-on that was Push it. Fifteen seconds into the video, and Kurt's eyes were closed and his hands we crawling spectacularly low, past his waistband, and Blaine's eyes were wide and shocked, his hands barely avoiding mimicing Kurt's in the video. He watched the entire thing several times through, and eventually there was no stopping it- he had to text Kurt.

Blaine:

So are you aware of how many people have posted videos of New Directions online?

Kurt:

Oh no.

Blaine:

Oh yes. ;)

Well, that winky face was definately not planned.

Kurt:

And? What's the verdict?

Blaine:

Your voice is amazing. We Warblers have more competition than we bargined for. And- some gutsy song choices you've got going there.

Kurt:

What did you see, exactly?

Blaine:

Oh, just a little classic by the wonderful Salt n Peppa.

Blaine wished he was having this conversation in person, because the look on Kurt's face had to be brilliant.

Kurt:

\Shit. I'd kinda hoped that had been wiped off the face of the earth.

Blaine:

Oh, no chance of that. I've downloaded the video. It's already on my iPod.

Kurt:

No way I'm going to convince you to delete it, huh?

Blaine:

Yeah, I don't think so. This is pure gold.

Kurt:

Please? Name your price.

Blaine's thoughts went all over the place. Oh no, this is just too predictible. He thought, and somehow managed not to tell Kurt he'd have to be his sex slave for a week to get him to stop watching that video. First of all, he didn't really have the balls to do something like that. But he also had no desire to make Kurt do anything to him, because then it wouldn't be real. Okay, maybe he had a little desire. But not enough to do anything about it.

Blaine:

Sorry. Not gonna happen. Kurt, you smack a guy's ass in this.

Kurt:

You have to understand, they made me do it! We needed more people to go to Sectionals, and Rachel was convinced that sex was the only way to lure people in.

Kurt:

It worked, too.

Blaine:

I bet it did. If I was at your school and I saw that performance, I'd be signing up the second you started dancing.

Shit. He was flirting again. He just couldn't stop himself.

Blaine:

Plus, from the look on that guy's face, he was not expecting you to do that.

Kurt:

Yeah, not so much. That was Finn.

Blaine:

Oh.

And with that, he effectivly killed the conversation. He couldn't think of a thing he could say to make it any better, and not having anything he could do, he started to watch the video again. About halfway through, he felt the incredible urge to pick up his phone. Without really thinking, he typed the words in his head.

Blaine:

Don't know why he looked so offended, really. You touched his ass. That's not something a sane person complains about.

And he hit send. And then he realized that nothing he'd said in that entire conversation qualified as mentoring.