I'm keeping the notes to the end of this Chapter as it'll spoil it if I don't ;)
AGAIN, THANK YOU. Special thanks to JP-Wings for her lovely comments and for those who recently left lots of reviews and are just finding this story now OR have left comments when they don't usually review. Means an AWFUL lot.

Also – couple of things:
To anon who wrote about the taxi cab – I hadn't worded it correctly and changed that. I meant that Blaine had ordered one. I may not be all that clued up on American things but I do know that taxi cabs don't roam the suburbs ;) Sorry for the confusion.

Secondly, to those who commented about Kurt's fears. I mentioned it was very cathartic and I do really REALLY understand how he feels so thank you for commenting on that :D

Lastly, to those who added me on LJ/Tumblr (same username), HELLO and thank you for dropping by! Nothing THAT exciting there but it's lovely of you to leave messages.

Also – I read every single review so, believe me when I say it's extremely appreciated.

This is NOT them going back to Dalton. I know I promised it but things changed and I needed this to happen first. I know I haven't mentioned some things from the previous Chapter but things aren't forgotten. Anyway, I hope you like this one :D

Kurt sat on his bed, his favourite faux fur cushion propped at his side, completely snuggled into Blaine's cardigan which swamped him but smelled divine. A copy of Vogue propped on his knee and a stack of interior design magazines at the foot of his bed, he felt strangely content.

"Bro? You gonna throw something at me if I interrupt you again or can I come in?"

Finn approached cautiously, much to Kurt's inner amusement. He really had trained Finn well as a roommate.

"Come in, don't worry, I'll play nice."

Finn smiled happily, plonking himself down on his own bed across the room. "So when I went to Rachel's we talked. We're not getting back together. I'm not ready for that but we talked so I guess that's a good thing, right?"

Kurt settled his magazine by his side and gave Finn his full attention. "It's definitely a good thing. Yea she's irritating and completely self centred but she had a pretty huge heart and I know most of it is reserved for you."

Finn frowned. "You're right," he mused almost blankly, "I just don't feel right. I got used to her always being around and talking and singing and stuff and now she's just ... gone."

Kurt nodded, understanding every word and feeling, quite surprisingly, very sorry for his brother. "Look, why don't you go see if Sam wants to do something or spend some time taking your mind off it?"

Finn looked up with a deep wrinkle in his brow but his large eyes ever naive. "Sam's only sticking around with me because I'm competition and he has this dream of being cool and Puck... he's a douche now that he's made out with both of my girlfriends. Everyone else is all coupled up or not interested," he explained with a sigh, "and the funny thing is, I treated you badly and said that horrible word and threw stuff. All you did was care and I wasn't nice to you, dude. It turns out you're the only one I can talk to."

Kurt felt his throat catch. He climbed off his bed and sat by Finn, placing a cool but reassuring hand on his shoulder. His brother from another mother wasn't a guy of many words and even those weren't usually as eloquent as they could be but Kurt wasn't stupid- he know when the words were honest. Finn smiled despondently but raised his fist and kept it in the air hanging. Kurt shuffled, unsure of what to do, but as he realised, he raised his own smaller fist and pressed it quickly to Finn's. It was hideously awkward.

"We need to work on that dude, brothers need to have a cool handshake."

"KURT!" Mercedes yelled down the phone so loud that it had to be held at arm's length, "oh my god you need to clear your schedule boy because I'm coming over to get you. We're goin' to Mr Schue's. He's lonely and Coach Sylvester arranged something. I think it's some lavish plan to crush us all again because unless she's had a lobotomy, I don't see why she's being so nice, but anyways you just have to come."

Kurt grinned furiously into his phone. "You sure it's ok?"

"Hey Hummel, don't even think you're getting out of this. Britt even asked today if you were coming home soon because she misses your hands... something about lady fingers or whatever. Anyway even Rachel asked me and we all know she thinks of no-one but herself."

Kurt giggled, "Ok, what's the dress code?"

It took a second but Kurt felt as if he was going to burst when he heard the reply. He'd missed this. "Well, whatever you'd wear to console a lonely guy, something Coach Sylvester won't mock which is pretty much nothing, not your bondage shorts because we all know that even Santana understands you're gay but wants you when you wear them. Bring our game because you just know Rachel's gonna want to know every little detail about your new school and the Warblers. Be on guard. Tina has been talking so much about missing you and how she just wants to talk fashion and everyone sucks at it except you so bring Vogue and swatches. Yea and for me, boy, you just need to bring your sweet self."

"Mercy, I love you," he muttered between breathless laughs.

"Right back atcha sweet cheeks."

After explaining to Burt exactly where he was going and assuring him that it was in the presence of adults, Kurt leaped into the air when he saw Mercedes' car pull up and beep twice. He ran down the drive and threw himself at her with a tiny yelp. She laughed and hugged him back, smiling non-stop.

"Ok, you ready for a dose of the crazy?" she asked, her eyes shining.

Kurt took her arm. "Always."

As they pulled up outside of Mr Schue's house, Kurt felt nervous. He wasn't sure if it was because somehow he felt like a different person or that he still couldn't shake a feeling that he'd let them all down but regardless, it wasn't like it used to be... things had changed.

Mercedes grabbed his hand giving it a little squeeze before knocking on the door. Everything was silent for a second before pandemonium broke loose. Kurt had forgotten the noise and how each individual person fought to be heard. Before he knew what was happening, he was crushed in a bear hug by Tina. Brittany tried to hug her way around the two of them, her face pressed close to Kurt's with a sweet smile. Knowing her as he did, he felt touched at her sweetness if a little unnerved by the look in her eye. Kurt managed to break free smiling a little shyly compared to normal. Everyone was grinning and saying how much they'd missed him so ecstatically that he felt his heart grow ten sizes.

They all died down, Britt linking Santana and disappearing through the door followed by Puck pushing Artie. Finn and Mike were talking as they'd hung out together for a few hours previously- Kurt's urging had worked. Kurt was sure he heard something about "Call of Duty" and rolled his eyes.

"So Kurt we need to know everything. Who is this boy I've heard about?" Quinn asked, winking, "he cute?"

Kurt blushed immediately. He was surrounded by his girls, all of them crazy but each he loved for such different reasons. He felt himself in that moment. "Just because you all centre your lives around boys doesn't mean you need to know about my business," he snapped playfully, narrowing his eyes sharply.

"Kurt," Rachel began, her face sure and eyebrows set high, "I for one respect your decision to remain discrete about your romantic life. If there's one thing we've learned this year, that's how fickle love is." Kurt knew her well and didn't miss the ghost of sadness pass her face but she never weakened, she stood tall despite it.

"Yea, fickle when you jump a dude's best friend," Mercedes quipped as Tina nudged her, shushing her immediately.

It was awkward and everyone's issues flooded to the surface immediately and with so much biting honesty. Kurt felt as if he'd returned truly home and revelled in the pain of it all. There was no masking of feelings and certainly no pretending to be someone you're not. It was all very ... well, New Directions.

"Kurt!" Mr Schue called, tipping his head to the side affectionately. If it wasn't for his attempted support and his constant catching up and making up, Kurt would still be angry with his former teacher for his lack of understanding during his tougher years at McKinley, but he wasn't. Mr Schue wasn't a bad guy, he was misguided at times but always tried his best.

"Mr Schue! It's good to see you."

"Aha Porcelain! So, you graced this less than average abode with your presence."

Kurt sighed, shaking his head, as a pillar of striking red with white stripes appeared in front of him.

"Coach Sylvester," he sang back, attempting to remain confident in the face of pure fear.

"So I hear you've found yourself someone to put up with your whining and incessant need for attention. Whoever he is, you can tell him personally from Sue Sylvester that he better have balls. He'll need them to get though," she explained, her voice as sharp as ice. Kurt just nodded, it was all he could do and everybody knew you didn't answer her back. "Furthermore, to protect the world from a legion of diva babies, I shall school you in the art of sexual protection young jedi. Sue knows best."

Kurt would have laughed if he didn't consistently fear his life while in her presence. "O-Ok," he stuttered out, a little stunned.

"Ok indeed. Now, why are we all standing out here when there's a tree to be decorated and some cat wailing to be done? You all like that don't you? The wailing and vocal gymnastics that makes you feel like worthwhile human beings. Go do ... that," she shouted, waving her hand briskly.

As everyone filed into the lounge, Sue grabbed his arm in a shot. "Oh and Porcelain, you getting any trouble at that school for rich kids?"

Kurt shook his head fast. "No Coach, no trouble."

"Ok then, good. If you do just explain to them carefully that one Sue Sylvester will not be responsible for her actions and is more than prepared to remove, with bare hands, their manhood from their person. Understood?" she asked, eyes wide and burning with seriousness.

"Understood."

The night progressed way too quickly for Kurt's liking. He felt himself laughing at certain things more than he'd done before. He'd usually exasperatedly roll his eyes or comment with biting wit but he didn't seem to feel like it. Everyone was so pleased to see him and their support was so strong now. By eleven he'd had an in depth conversation with Tina about the season's winter knits and tailoring and they'd arranged a shopping date before his return to Dalton. As they were finishing off their discussion, the rest of New Directions were setting up Mr Schue's karaoke machine or fighting over a bowl of candy and Rachel sat down by his side.

"Have you secured a solo yet?" she asked, her eyes a little less threatening than usual. She wore one of her trademark outfits again, Kurt noticed, but this time it was Christmas themed – a bold red sweater with a repeated snowman print and a small tartan skirt. He smiled, suddenly finding it endearing instead of a crime against decent fashion.

He grinned appreciatively. "Not yet," he replied simply.

"I think they must be deaf," she muttered with a half smile, "because you're one of the best singers I've ever heard."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up, his face a picture of surprise. "Rachel Berry. Was that a non forced, voluntary heart felt compliment you just gave me?"

She bashfully smiled, her skinny elbow jabbing him in the side. "Well, we're not rivals anymore," she sighed, "and actually that's a shame because I've always believed a healthy competition helps to nurture talent."

"You should be like this more often," he offered with a genuine smile. He couldn't help but feel affection for her in that moment as she had dissolved her mask. Kurt wondered if it was her sadness because of Finn that had stripped her of her high and mighty attitude- either way, it was nice to see her as the real Rachel.

"If I don't shout Kurt, nobody listens," she stated so matter of factly that Kurt felt his heart hurt. She spoke his language so explicitly that it felt scary hearing someone else voice his insecurities.

"Well," he sighed out with a warm smile, ducking to catch her heavy damp eyes, "as you said to me, I think we're more similar that we realise." She laughed out her worries. Kurt noticed how her hair swung prettily and how the red of her jumper made her brown eyes warmer. He wanted to slap himself for feeling so much affection for Rachel Berry, of all people, but he saw himself when he looked in her eyes and somewhere, somewhere deep down, he knew they really understood each other. "Look," he began, standing up fiercely and sitting in his hip, "let us show them all how a killer Christmas ballad is done."

Rachel beamed, bright and much happier than before. The keen sparkle lit in her eyes as she nodded briskly and stood beside him. "We sound incredible together you know?" she stated surely.

"Oh I know Rachel, I know."

After their medley of a haunting version of The Pogue's "The Fairytale of New York", a rather epic and belting "O Holy Night" and a tongue and cheek rendition of "Santa Baby" in which they out diva-ed each other and pranced suggestively around the room – Kurt realised what Finn felt like every time she chased him around the piano. It was a little disconcerting, the sheer passion in her eyes, but he adored how he could spark off her. It was electrifying.

They were treated to a rapturous round of applause from Sue Sylvester too, although she clapped a few times before nodding and disappearing into the kitchen. Kurt wondered what tricks she was playing on Mr Schue that he'd find in a week when he opened his cupboards. Kurt watched as Finn's eyes turned fond and wistful, taking in Rachel bouncing up and down on Kurt's arm. It was obvious he was still completely in love with her.

As the night drew to a close, Kurt just wanted to stop feeling so sad. It was a night, so filled with everything he loved, that he could barely believe how much he'd missed everyone. Yes, they were all screwed up and had a list of issues as long as Rachel Berry's ambition list but Kurt knew that in some odd and ridiculous way that they were kindred spirits. They each knew that no matter what happened and how bad things got, that they were all there and every single person knew exactly how it felt at one time or another, to be misunderstood or alone. They had each other after all.

Kurt watched as Quinn and Sam began a rendition of "White Christmas", their weaker but utterly sweet voices melding nicely. He reached into his pocket as his phone buzzed and felt his heart fizz with happiness when he noticed the particular text was from Blaine. There could have been a million people crammed into Mr Schue's lounge and he wouldn't have noticed at all anymore.

Having fun? I got here safe. Sylvie has already made me pancakes. Feel spoiled. How are you? I downloaded Skype when I got here so I'm entering the technological age just for you. I hope you feel special. Hope you're ok. Blaine xx

Kurt laughed to himself. Blaine was even a little frantically too eager to care over text. It was so inherently Blaine that Kurt didn't realise he was hugging his phone with puppy dog eyes.

"Sickening," Mercedes hissed to her side, trying to look as if she still found Quinn and Sam endearing.

"This duet?" Kurt asked, snapping himself present.

"No, although they are freakin' charming, I'm talking about you mooning into your phone."

They were whispering now, lowered into the couch. "Mercy, can I tell you something?"

She grinned cheekily, knowing he'd confess to her the truth at some point. "He kissed me."

She squeaked, instantly grabbing Kurt's hand with so much pressure he was sure his fingers would snap. "Down girl," he laughed, his stomach churning a little out of nerves, "so there you go. My first kiss." He tried to downplay it, not accustomed to airing his inner most feelings in the middle of a room full of people.

"How was it? Tell me everything. What did he say? How did it feel? How did you react? Where were you?"

Kurt blushed, his face smattered pink. "I'm kinda crazy about him," he sighed, "he treats me like I'm china or something, which we all know I'm not but it works. I was kinda, erm, well, I was worried about it but he was so amazing."

"You deserve someone to treat you well, to take care of you like you're precious," she cooed, stroking his shoulder and laying her head down as a follow up. Kurt's chest swelled, his shoulders shrugging up as he smiled.

"So do you."

He felt her grin through his shirt. "So is he mega rich? He going to keep you in labels?" she asked with a giggle.

"Oh I seriously hope so," Kurt teased, knowing he'd never ask for a thing as Blaine gave him more than he ever thought he'd find, "but honestly, I really like him Mercy. He's one of those people you dream of, you know?"

She raised her head, smiling into Kurt's eyes. "Well honey, I'm sure he feels exactly the same way about you."

"Blaine darling, come down for a moment would you?"

Blaine was exhausted. The flight was smooth but uncomfortable, his legs felt stiff and shoulders rigid as a board.

"Coming," he called. He took a deep breath and padded downstairs to the smell of pancakes. It was intoxicating how this made him simply want to curl up on her couch lined with the softest pillows and also how polar opposite Sylvie's house was compared to his own home. She lived for antique collectables in a very specific style and littered her walls with old portraits of unknown people or families. She always spoke of the truth lying behind a person's eyes and their smile; she taught him from an early age to never judge. The odd couples or children posing for their photograph to be taken were, to Sylvie, a reminder of humanity and the wonder of individuality. Her interest lay in reading them and their lives from every miniature detail. The deep cream walls inside her cottage were covered with frames, her kitchen was packed tight with ingredients from all-over the world and appliances so varying in colour and style that it would have been reminiscent of a jumble sale had it not been for her impeccable taste, perfect positioning and flair for interior design.

She retained his grandfather's belongings but placed them artistically around the house so as to remind herself of him. He died four years previous from ailments of the heart and it was at this point that Blaine became so much closer to Sylvie than most young guys were with their grandmothers. She saw Blaine for exactly who he was, no questions asked, and they often shared a love of fine things or classic music and movies.

"Now darling," she began, Blaine grinning lovingly at the sound of her overused pet name, "I knew you were coming so I bought extra cinnamon sugar. How many can you manage?"

Blaine smiled coyly, turning to the side and batting his eyelids as he held up three fingers.

She nodded curtly and turned, a ghost of a smirk. "Five it is then," she joked wryly.

They often sat in silence with music or a radio story playing in the background but Blaine could see that she wanted to catch up properly- in her trademark abrupt manner no doubt. He often tried to memorise her mannerisms and how she looked as he missed her terribly after a few months of not seeing her. Her greying curly hair hung loosely by her ears, the rest piled into a haphazard bun which was held with two gold hair pins. She always wore patterns, deeming her body an exercise of self expression. In the sixties, Blaine knew she'd added a tattoo to the back of her neck in the shape of an ornate heart. This was one thing Blaine vehemently admired about her and envied as she'd lived a long and full life in a number of cities-therefore, she'd experienced elements of life that he could only dream of.

"So, how is the school for scoundrels then?" she asked as she cooked.

Blaine scoffed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The smell of food wasn't helping his need for slumber. "It's as mad as always. I still live with Wes although he spends a lot of nights with his girlfriend Kate or he falls asleep in David's room. I'm still hitting the higher grades in most of my classes except Chem and Physics. It's still very much the same. I've retained my Head of Student Council position too so you will be pleased."

"And The Warblers? I still want that recording Blaine, don't think I have forgotten. I want my neighbour to hear my grandson's wonderful voice because I'm sure, sweetheart, that she thinks I've made you up." She turned, smiling with pursed lips. Blaine knew he'd mail a copy of their cut CD the second he returned to Westerville.

"I'll send it as soon as I get back, I promise. The Warblers are just the same. We're yet to choose our numbers for Regionals but we have so many ideas. We'll no doubt use the New Year Showcase to test out a couple of numbers and to help our new additions settle in. I'll have to audition for a solo once more in the interests of fairness."

"Darling, you know as well as I do that you'll be front and centre stage. You always are and I wouldn't have you any other way. Let me know when your Regionals show is and I'll try to get tickets. So, are these new additions settling in then?" she asked, slowly piling up the newly cooked pancakes onto one of her mismatched plates. She passed them to him and he began to eat in between sentences. Sylvie settled herself into one of the stools at the breakfast nook opposite Blaine and listened as she sipped a small frosted glass of pomegranate juice.

"They're doing, um, ok I think," Blaine replied, his eyes never leaving his plate.

Sylvie watched her grandson intently. "Just, ok?"

Blaine knew his grandmother and knew that if he looked at her and spoke as she stared into her eyes ... she'd know and he'd die of embarrassment.

"Yes, they're fine. They'll settle in just great, in time. You know what I went through to settle into Dalton."

He heard her hum thoughtfully and felt his stomach lurch. Damn.

"Darling I know you all too well and you're avoiding my eyes. What is it? Is there a problem again? Is someone causing you pain like before?" she asked, urging him for an answer.

He glanced up into her eyes, letting his fork clatter to his plate. As he cocked his head to the side, eyes rolling, she smiled slowly.

"Well it's nothing too terrible," she mused thoughtfully, "because your pupils are dilated and your eyes are happy." She took a deep breath, leaning in and pursing her lips as she always did. Her voice clipped and sure, she spoke once more. "Who is he?"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh. "How do you do that?" he asked, hitting the table with his hands in mock protest, "I didn't say anything."

"Well, Blaine my darling, I saw you at no more than an hour old and you're my grandson. My uncanny ability to read people doesn't hurt either. But," she rose her eyebrows, "you've evaded my question sweetheart, who is this boy?"

Blaine took a deep breath and knew he'd never talk this candidly to anyone else in his family except Sylvie, especially not about boys and definitely under no circumstances about Kurt.

"His name is Kurt," he stated, attempting to keep a smile from painting his lips.

"Elaborate," she pushed with a persuasive tilt to her head and left it there, no other words were required.

He frowned a little playfully. "Ok what do you want to know?"

"Age?"

"He's a junior."

"Family?"

"He lives with his father, Burt and Burt's new wife and son Finn. His mom died when he was a little boy."

"Oh dear," she frowned regretfully, "interests?"

"Music, movies, fashion, interior design, singing, musical theatre... do you want more?"

"No darling, I adore him already," she smiled simply but with an air of utter affection, "so now tell me the things you want to say about him. Don't be shy."

Blaine was sure he was blushing but she was right, he didn't need to be shy and he figured it'd be nice to talk about how he felt as he had nobody else who'd understand except maybe Thomas and Wes and David, if he didn't mind being teased and goaded.

"He has pretty eyes," Blaine rushed out, realising how cliché it sounded. His face burned.

"Colour?"

"I honestly can't say. They're sometimes pale blue, sometimes grey, they turn darker when he's angry or frustrated but when he's happy they almost look like opals."

Sylvie smiled gently. "What is he like? Temperament? Personality?"

Blaine laughed out his breath, shaking his head lightly. "He's a force of nature. He is so feisty and full of so much spirit that I somehow can't believe he had so much trouble at his old school. You see, he was like me, he transferred mid-semester and came to Dalton to find peace. Those bullies, the people who taunted him, have made him wary though. He's gentle and caring too and so thoughtful. I don't think many people see that side of him though. He's so funny too and comes out with these one-liners that are just inspired but they're just him through and through. He's an incredible singer too. I haven't heard him sing anywhere near as much as I'd like to but this semester there'll be many more chances so I can't wait to see him impress the rest of the Warblers because I swear he's got a range that most people would die for. He's jus-"

Sylvie placed her hand on Blaine's softly. "It's been a long time since I've seen you like this," she said, her voice laced with tenderness, "you're enamoured. I can see it and hear it. I've always wanted this for you."

Blaine rarely cried. He often felt choked or emotional but he wasn't a natural crier. Sitting in that moment he didn't know if that was true anymore- he wasn't sure he'd ever felt more treasured. "Thank you," he muttered, his brain too fuzzy and throat too thick to speak further.

Sylvie placed her glass in the sink and returned to the table. With a light stroke to Blaine's hair, she kissed his forehead. "I can't wait to meet him."

As she walked away, Blaine felt his chest tighten as a memory flashed shockingly bright in is mind. "Grandmother?" he called. Sylvie sashayed back around.

"Yes my darling?"

"Please don't mention any of this to my mom or dad." He could hear the emphasis in his voice, the pleading to the tone of his words that sounded almost desperate. He hated hearing himself like that but couldn't help it at all. He did not wish for his parents to find out. He knew exactly how they'd act and what they'd do.

"Your secret is entirely safe with me Blaine, you have my word."

Blaine rested back into the downy pillows that Sylvie had positioned at the head of his bed. He glanced around the room at the ornaments and trinkets positioned on gradient positioned shelves and his grandmother's wall mounted postcards and newspaper clippings. It was so comforting to him that he felt five years old all over again.

He had received a few replies from Kurt but had held back, trying to resist keeping up their conversation as he knew Kurt was with his old friends. Blaine simply did not feel right interfering. There was something not sitting right with the night though since he'd entrusted his secret to Sylvie, something awkward tugging at his heart and mind, threatening to chip away at his still solid happiness. He thought of the New Year Showcase and the fact that every parent was invited to see their sons perform. He dreaded it yearly, knowing that his inner sanctum and home, Dalton, was to be visited by his mom and dad. Most kids looked forward to the ability to introduce their parents to their friends and show off their newly acquired talents but Blaine feared and despised it with ferocity. Every year, his mother would hug him firmly and tell him how well he did and how his voice had improved- it was so rigid it felt script-like. He knew she meant it, well aware of her good heart underneath it all, but it was his father he would stress out about, thinking up so many witty and clever lines to say to him in order to impress him. Nothing worked.

Blaine didn't want them there. It wasn't because he didn't love them deep down. It was hard to but he'd learned their ways since birth and was accustomed to them in a way he wasn't sure he should be. It was, however, because they didn't belong in his happy place. They iced the air and pulled his carefree attitude to a rock bottom low. He attempted to fight it every single year, aiming to retain his ease when they came to visit but was never able to. His nerves hit red alert and brain fused in an iron grip at the very second they stepped onto Dalton grounds and never let up until Blaine, as he did yearly, watched their car disappear down the drive.

The thought of their reaction to Kurt was what feared him the most. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't accept it. They certainly wouldn't be comfortable with Blaine remaining so close to him. It was a risk Blaine was not willing to take.

He needed to talk to someone, knowing Sylvie was asleep and Wes and David were his escapism, he didn't wish for them to be bogged down with his concerns. He found the one person he knew would understand in his phone contacts and hit 'call'.

"Thornton!" Thomas sang down the line, "and to what do I owe this very intense pleasure?"

Blaine laughed and shuffled down in his pillows. It felt immeasurably nice to hear that voice and the unrelenting sarcasm.

"All the better for hearing your voice," Blaine sang back happily, his head rested to the side comfortably.

"You're far too sweet," Thomas cooed, "you know there's no need to be so charming, I'm already under your spell."

"Shut up idiot," he snapped with a giggle, "be serious for a second. How are you?"

They spoke at length about Thomas' relationship and how it wasn't going as 'to plan' as he wished. It had hit a rocky patch instigated by a particularly long distance component. Blaine didn't mention Kurt at first but conversation soon naturally turned to Dalton and Thomas had a memory like an elephant- he never ever forgot.

"You kissed him!" he shouted, "what was all of this 'oh he's not ready' and 'oh no it wouldn't be right Thomas'. So much for 'restrained Blaine'. The first chance you got him alone you snogged his face off!"

Blaine was laughing, trying to speak through the giggles and to protest fiercely, but he simply could not find the breath. "Now listen," he forced out, still chuckling infectiously, "he kissed me first and it was the sweetest thing you've ever seen. I mean Thomas, he was so shy and so cute that it killed me. I honestly lost all ability to form sentences and you know me, I'm pretty eloquent when I want to be. He said goodbye and waltzed out of the door leaving me breathless. I knew he liked me then and you don't kiss someone for the first time if you don't like them and aren't ready."

"So you thought you'd lure him into your grasp again and THEN snog his face off?"

"Will you just listen?" Blaine shouted again, hissing his words in an attempt to muffle their volume. He was achingly aware of Sylvie's presence in the other room. "I didn't do anything of the sort. He saved me at the airport when my flight was grounded. He turned up in the most adorable hat you've ever seen and he had actual rosy cheeks. It was reminiscent of something from a movie and you know how idealistic I am. It felt like I was in a dream. I mean, how can you resist that? He let me stay with his family. We even went to a market in the snow. He snuggles too, did I mention that? I don't think he's ever had anyone to do that with and I'm not complaining. Nobody has ever wanted to snuggle with me, except Wes when he falls ill but we're not counting that. He just pushes himself closer to you and nuzzles his head against me and I die. I never want him to move. Then he wears these sweaters that cling to every curve but he's so slim that it's almost criminal how good he looks. His parents went out for a Christmas meal and left us alone. I swear the intensity dial had been switched to maximum. We couldn't even make hot chocolate without being all close and touching. He's so handsy and I don't even think that's a legitimate word. I sound pathetic right now, but he is. I'm sure he thinks I see him as a kind of gentle flower to be protected and nurtured. I do and I couldn't bear if someone hurt him ever again but then there are certain times when he bites his lip or sidles up to me and I swear Thomas I can't even understand how I hold back."

Blaine took an enormous breath, his hands hot and face smouldering. He'd never talked as fast or as inarticulately much in a long time with every single word firing so quickly and honestly. He felt lighter and bustling inside with excitement and delicious nerves.

"Blaine Blaine Blaine," Thomas sighed out, the amusement ever present in his tone, "you've got quite a situation on your hands. It's much worse than I thought."

"What do you mean? What is?"

"You're head over heels Thornton."

"I know," Blaine sighed, burying his head into his pillow and huffing out the pressure inside, "and it's so inconvenient."

"I have one question though."

"Hit me with it."

"What are you going to do when Monica and Alexander visit for Show Case?"

Blaine groaned, the fear coursing back in. "That's another reason I called. I'm, when all is considered, terrified."

"I'll be there," Thomas spoke seriously, the humour now left behind, "I'm coming and if you need me I'll be there."

"Promise?" Blaine asked, his voice so reminiscent of his younger self. Fearful and small.

"As always Thornton."

As a seriously devoted fan of Glee and being from the UK, I watched the first episode an hour after it aired in the US. Being THIS into it, I was worried about writing the other characters. Terrified to be precise! My favourites are Kurt (obviously) ...

- Blaine - and not because he's Darren Criss, lord I love him it's obvious but I do not see him as Darren, I see him for Blaine. As self righteous and a little too perfect as he seems to be so far, I love his preppiness, his lack of any normal clothes and how mysterious he is... for those who see DARREN when they see Blaine, it's unfortunate. I don't see him as a red vine eating, Harry Potter obsessed – although i do think he'd be a fan – Disney lover. I see him as being a little old fashioned, restrained as a child and having a respect for the finer things in life. I also see him as being pretty cool at times but then utterly clueless the next. I can't wait to learn more about him!

Brittany, Beiste (because she's a SWEETHEART!), Emma (her wardrobe and mine are synonymous – it's quite terrifying how similar our clothes are!) , Rachel (because she's just such a brilliantly explored character and god bless her, hasn't got a single friend but manages on pure sense of self alone. She's wonderful and so annoying all at once).

AND, not forgetting, Sue. She's one of the main reasons I absolutely ADORE this show. She's the EPITOMY of ridiculous but then she reveals a whole new and softer side to herself. It's incredible. She's effin' hilarious too so it just works. Writing her SCARED me to death.

I honestly, and sincerely, HOPE I managed to pull it off even a TEENY bit! I kept Sue short-ish because, well, I couldn't do her justice if I tried. She's too awesome.

I wanted more Blaine and others seemed to aswell so the timing was perfect. I kind of love Thomas and I hope you like Sylvie. She's so vivid in my mind.

I have nearly 80 reviews since I posted my last Chapter and am approaching 500. YOU GUYS. FAR FAR FAR TOO KIND! I swear, I began writing this Chapter a few days ago too, on the train and got carried away. This didn't take too long to write- so I thought I'd post another Chapter today BUT there will be a little delay on the next, not too much though. I'll be starting back to professional studies in mid January so I am aiming to have a lot of it written by then as I can't sustain a story through the course. I'm WAY too busy. Not going anywhere though ... promise, the story will be finished properly :D I REALLY hope you like it! (I keep aiming to keep these A/N short- HA. Failing miserably!)