Happy Saturday!

Thank you for all the lovely comments this week. I'm glad you've enjoyed the extra update.

Hope you will like this one just as much!

I own nothing.

Sam stared at him across the table, pizza slice halfway towards his mouth, which was now hanging open in disbelief. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat that?"

Blaine sighed. "Daniel broke up with me because I have feelings for Kurt."

It was a testament to how serious the situation was that, instead of taking a bite of pizza, Sam put it back down on his plate. "Blaine."

Blaine frowned, confused. "Sam?"

"Are you even serious right now? Are you kidding me?" Sam pressed his elbows against the table, leaning closer, as if he needed to study Blaine's face to see if it was a joke or not.

Blaine took a sip of beer. His throat was suddenly painfully dry. "I am not kidding."

"Blaine," Sam repeated, speaking as if he was trying to explain something very important to Max. "Kurt doesn't only work for you. He's also one of your students. And he's ten years younger than you."

"Nine," Blaine corrected, offended, like one year was a huge difference.

"Okay, fine, nine years younger," Sam conceded, rolling his eyes. "This is completely insane. Do you need me to tell you this is completely insane, or can you actually see that for yourself?"

Blaine huffed in frustration. "I don't know, Sam. I didn't plan for this, exactly. It's all very confusing, and yes, okay, yes, it is insane. But… somehow it just… makes sense?"

"Look, Blaine, I want you to be happy. I'm sorry if Daniel wasn't the right guy for you, but you can find someone else. I have other gay friends," Sam said. "I can ask Mercedes. She must know someone…"

"Sam, it's not about that," Blaine shook his head, tiredly. He had thought about this a million times since Daniel had walked out of his apartment three days ago. No matter what he did, or how he tried to justify it, he couldn't get rid of this realization: he liked Kurt. "Trust me, I wish things were different. Daniel was pretty perfect for me in many ways… but he's just… not what I want. And this might be completely illogical, but Kurt…"

"Is a kid," Sam finished for him.

Blaine was annoyed now. "Okay, stop that. Don't try to make me sound like a pervert. You know that's not who I am."

"I'm just trying to understand," Sam replied, rubbing a hand down his face.

"No, you're trying to convince me of all the reasons you think I'm wrong," Blaine retorted, looking at him meaningfully. "I've thought of all of them already, Sam. But Kurt is… well, we kind of fit together, you know? How else can you explain the way I was able to open up to him and talk about Cooper, when I couldn't do it even with you? And everything seems so much easier, so much nicer when he's around. He makes everything so clear and bright around me."

Sam groaned. "God, you sound like a fool with a crush. This can't be happening. You're going to get fired."

"I'm not going to get fired," Blaine groaned back. Sam could be so irritating sometimes. "It's not like I'm going to make out with him at work. I don't even know if he might reciprocate. I just… I needed to talk to someone about it, and I would truly appreciate it if you could act as my best friend and let me vent and get this off my chest."

Sam watched him for a few seconds and finally deflated. "I know. I'm sorry. You know I worry."

"You always do," Blaine smiled softly at him. "Now eat your pizza."

Sam reached for his slice again. "Okay. I'm ready. Tell me all about it."

So Blaine did. He told him about how lovely it was to spend time with Kurt, who it seemed like they never run out of things to talk about. He told him about how Kurt always understood him, and how he was always able to make him feel better, to make him smile. He told him how right it felt whenever Kurt held him, how it made him feel like nothing could ever hurt him if Kurt kept holding him long enough. He told him how much he loved seeing him with Max… and then told him about the kiss.

That damn kiss.

How hadn't Blaine realized then, when their lips touched for the first time? Shouldn't he have known?

Sam dropped the crust of his pizza back into the box, and licked his fingers clean despite knowing how much Blaine hated that. "Yup. Sounds like you're fucked, man."

Blaine threw him a napkin. "You're not a caveman, Sam. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the napkin. "Okay, listen. I really, really want to talk you out of this insanity. I really do… but some of the things you just described… dude, I felt that. I feel that, with Mercedes. I can't see this working out, and I really don't want to see you get in trouble… but I also can't tell you not to feel the way you feel, because I know it's going to be useless."

"I don't even know if I'm going to tell Kurt. That kiss probably meant nothing to him…" Blaine tried to sound dismissive, like he didn't care.

"Whatever you decide, regardless of what I think, I've got your back. You deserve to be happy, Blaine," Sam shrugged. "I wish you'd chosen someone a little less complicated, but it's not up to me. It's not even up to you. These things just happen. Just… do me a favor? If you think one of you is going to get in trouble, or is going to get hurt, do the smart thing, okay?"

Blaine nodded, though he had no idea what the smart thing was anymore.

After days without a single message or phone call, Blaine's cell vibrated with an incoming call on Sunday night. He swore his heart skipped a beat when he saw the caller ID announced it was Kurt calling.

"Hello?" He said, and was immediately shocked when the voice on the other end did not belong to Kurt.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson? This is Rachel Berry, I'm Kurt's roommate and best friend."

Blaine blinked in confusion for a moment. "Oh, hi Rachel. Is Kurt okay?"

Before he could begin panicking, Rachel reassured him: "He's fine! Just caught a really nasty flu on the flight back home. He's currently in bed with a high fever, and barely wakes up to cough or sneeze. I just wanted to let you know he won't make it to work tomorrow. He doesn't want to pass whatever virus he has to Max."

"That's terrible," Blaine replied sincerely. "Can you tell him I hope he feels better soon? I'll text him tomorrow to know how he's doing."

Rachel said goodbye, and Blaine stared at his phone long after the call had ended, telling himself there was no reason to be so disappointed.

Luckily, Sam could stay with Max on Monday when Blaine had to go back to work. During his lunch break, he texted Kurt: Hey you. Hope you're feeling better!

He was walking back to his office with a sandwich in a paper bag when his phone vibrated with a reply: Hi. Thanks. Still with a fever. The guy sitting next to me on the plane had the plague or something.

Blaine texted him a sad face: That sucks. So I guess we won't be seeing you tomorrow either?

He was already halfway through his sandwich when Kurt answered: It doesn't look like it, no.

When he got home later that day, and showed Sam the text messages, Sam frowned as he bounced Max on his knee.

"Do you think he's avoiding you? You know, after that kiss," he said.

Blaine hadn't thought about it, but now it was the only thing he could think about.

On Tuesday, Blaine had to bring Max to work. He and Sam took turns watching him in their offices, and Max was clearly unhappy with being passed around like that. He threw a huge tantrum at Blaine's desk and spilled coffee all over the papers he was supposed to be grading.

Blaine rushed to clean up the mess, and then called Kurt.

Rachel picked up the phone. "Oh hi, Mr. Anderson! He just fell asleep. He was up all night coughing. Can I take a message?"

Blaine closed his eyes, trying to hold back the frustration. "I was just wondering how he was feeling. But I guess he's not doing much better, huh?"

"No," Rachel said quietly. "I think he might need another day to sleep it off."

Blaine wondered if it was possible that Sam was right, after all. What if Kurt was avoiding him? What if he couldn't face Blaine after what had happened at his father's kitchen? What if he was trying to find a way to quit so he would never have to see Blaine again?

He looked at Max as he crossed his office and turned the waste basket upside down.

He didn't know what he would without Kurt.

His call was answered once again by Rachel on Wednesday afternoon. Blaine left work, but instead of walking towards his apartment, he got into the subway. It had taken a little flirting with Claudia from the Admissions department, but he now had Kurt's address scribbled in a piece of paper, safe in his pocket.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do once he got there. Mostly, he wanted to know if Kurt truly was avoiding him. If Kurt wasn't comfortable around him anymore, Blaine needed to know. If Max needed a new nanny, he needed to know.

If that kiss had ruined everything, he needed to know.

Kurt lived in an area of Bushwick that seemed to be filled mostly with factories. As Blaine walked away from the subway station, most people walked towards it, ready to head home at the end of their day. After a few blocks, he arrived at an old brick building that looked like an abandoned factory more than a residential building. He wondered if he had the right address.

Just as he stood by the door in doubt, the front door opened and a girl walked out, holding her purse tight against her chest. She was petite, with long brunette hair, and startled when she almost bumped into Blaine at the doorway. "Oh!"

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologized, taking a step back to give her some room.

"Mr. Anderson!" She exclaimed, with a smile. She seemed confused. "What a surprise."

"Oh, you must be Rachel," he said, and offered his hand to her. "It's nice to meet you at last."

"Likewise," she replied with a huge smile.

"I'm terribly sorry for just dropping by unannounced," he said softly. "I was wondering if I could see Kurt for a moment."

There was something slightly mischievous about her grin. "Of course. I would walk you to our apartment, but I'm running a little late. You can go right ahead. It's the loft on the top floor."

"Thank you so much," Blaine said, and with a little wave, Rachel was gone.

Blaine walked up the stairs to the top floor. There was a sliding door, the only one in the hallway, so he knocked on it. He heard footsteps and a muffle voice coming from the other side.

"Rachel, if you forgot your keys again, I swear I will…" Kurt was saying as he slid the door open, but he stopped when he realized it wasn't Rachel standing in front of him. "Blaine…"

Blaine felt suddenly nervous. He looked at Kurt for a moment, as he tried to come up with something to say. He was wearing pajamas, the same ones he had worn in Ohio a few days ago, that night, in that kitchen. His hair wasn't styled and his nose was slightly red. He looked exhausted. He looked sick.

Blaine sighed quietly in relief. "You really are sick."

Kurt blinked at him in confusion. "Uhm. Yes?" He moved aside to let Blaine into the loft. "Didn't Rachel tell you? She promised she'd take care of it."

The loft was huge. Blaine's apartment could have almost fit twice inside it. He guessed the decoration was all Kurt: he could see his touch and his taste in every little detail. Blaine turned to face him as Kurt closed the door. "She did. I'm sorry for coming by, I just… I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"That's really sweet," Kurt said with a little smile, before looking away and coughing loudly into his elbow. "I'm sorry I didn't text or call again. I've mostly slept for the past three days. This is the first time I'm awake for more than two hours."

"Don't worry about it," Blaine reassured him. He swayed a bit on his heels. Now that he was here and could see Kurt hadn't been lying to him, he felt stupid.

"Would you like some tea? I was about to make some," Kurt offered, walking towards the kitchen.

Blaine followed him. "Sure. But shouldn't you be in bed? I can make it and bring it to you."

"God, no," Kurt groaned. "I can't stay in bed a minute longer. I'm going crazy. I was actually working on a few projects. I haven't been able to find time for them lately."

Blaine looked at the mess of fabrics and the sewing machine on the kitchen table. He picked up a small button up. The fabric had tiny foxes all over it, against a light blue background. He frowned. "Do we need to talk about your diet? Because you will never fit into this shirt."

Kurt rolled his eyes at him as if he was insane. "Of course not. That's not for me. It's for Max."

Blaine felt as if he had been suddenly punched in the stomach by all the feelings he had been trying to keep at bay for the past few days. They came all at once. They were overwhelming.

"I've had a million ideas for cute outfits for him, but I never have time to work on them," Kurt explained, not noticing how quiet Blaine was. "I've been doodling designs for months. Being sick is actually a blessing, if you think about it. I made three shirts and I have an idea for a cute little jacket that's to die for. I can't wait to see him wear it…" He turned to Blaine, who was still holding the shirt up in front of him, watching it as if it was something incredibly precious. "What? You don't like it?"

"I love it," Blaine muttered in a soft, low voice, his eyes fixed on Kurt's. "Kurt, you are…"

But Kurt had a coughing fit, so Blaine was silenced abruptly. It looked like a painful cough, and Kurt leaned against the kitchen counter to support himself. Blaine approached him, leaving the shirt carefully on the table, and rubbed his back comfortingly.

"That sounds painful. Are you taking any meds?" Blaine asked, concerned.

"Yeah, Rachel picked up a few things for me," Kurt said, dismissively. He suddenly looked a lot more exhausted. "How's Max? Who's staying with him?"

Blaine couldn't find in himself the strength to move away, so he stood next to Kurt, feeling the heat radiating from him. "Sam's helping me out. I took him with me to work yesterday."

Kurt ran a hand down his tired face. "I'm sorry. I should be…"

"It's fine, Kurt," Blaine said, reaching for his hand and giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. "You just need to get better."

The water began to boil, so Kurt moved towards the stove, sliding his hand away from Blaine's, who suddenly only felt the cold of the counter top against his palm.

Kurt poured two mugs, and then began coughing again so violently that he actually startled Blaine.

"Okay, that's it. You need to be in bed," Blaine said sternly. "Come on, Kurt. You'll never get better if you don't rest."

Kurt protested all the way to his bedroom, but complied. His room, hidden behind a large curtain, was quite tidied, considering he'd been sick for the past few days. His bed, however, was a nest of blankets, which Kurt slid into with a tiny sigh of comfort.

Blaine placed Kurt's tea on the bedside table. "Drink up, you need all the fluids you can get."

Kurt took a sip of tea. "I wish I could kill the bastard who gave me the plague."

Blaine smiled. "That's not going to help you get better now."

"No, but he still deserves it," Kurt groaned, and laid back against the pillows. He truly looked exhausted. "I've done nothing but sleep. I don't want to sleep again."

"But you need it," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt blinked up at him feverishly, as if he was realizing for the first time that Blaine was in his apartment. "Blaine, why… why did you come here?"

Blaine bit his lip, considering whether honesty was the best alternative. "I was worried that you weren't actually sick. I thought you might be avoiding me, or that you didn't want to work with us anymore, and just didn't know how to tell me."

Kurt frowned. "Are you crazy? I love that job. I love Max. Why would I…?"

"Because of the kiss," Blaine said, before he could lose his courage. "I was afraid you might be too uncomfortable around me after what happened, and I… I just needed to come and know. I needed to see you."

Kurt's cheeks were flushed. It could have been because of the fever, but Blaine would have sworn the blush had appeared when he mentioned the kiss. "Why should I be uncomfortable around you? Shouldn't you be the one feeling uncomfortable? I kissed you, after all."

Blaine sat on the edge of the bed, his cup of tea hot between his hands, but somehow it helped him feel steadier. "Kurt, in case you didn't notice, I kissed you back."

Kurt's lips parted as if he'd intended to let out a gasp, but no sound came out of him. He looked in awe. "You… you did," he mumbled, as if he'd just realized that. "You kissed me back."

"Yeah," Blaine said helplessly.

"But you said it didn't mean anything," Kurt said, looking more and more confused every second.

Blaine shrugged, looking away from Kurt, because his big blue eyes distracted him. "Uhm. We probably shouldn't talk about this now… you need to rest. I should go and let you sleep."

Before he could stand up, however, Kurt's hand grabbed his arm. "No, I… I don't want to sleep. I want to talk about it."

"Kurt…" Blaine glanced at him, unsure. "You do realize this conversation could…? Well, it could change everything."

"Why?" Kurt asked, and the eagerness on his face was so clear that Blaine couldn't stop staring at him.

Blaine instead asked a question of his own: "Did you really only kiss me because you were upset?"

Kurt sucked in a breath, and the tension was almost tangible between them. It seemed it took forever before he finally replied, with a shaky: "No."

There was something slightly defeated and shockingly sincere about the way Kurt said that simple word, like he couldn't hold it back anymore, like it had been a terrible weight keeping the truth from Blaine. Like he was afraid that little syllable was going to tear apart everything he had worked so hard to carefully build.

Blaine licked his lips, trying to gain some time to steady his crazy-beating heart. "Kurt…"

"Look, it's fine," Kurt said, his voice a little rough from the cough. "I can be professional. I can pretend it never happened. You don't have to worry about it. I won't tell anyone. I understand. I'm not stupid. Plus, Daniel…"

"… broke up with me," Blaine interrupted, before Kurt could talk himself into a panic.

Kurt gaped at him for a moment, looking more and more confused. "What?"

"Daniel broke up with me," Blaine said calmly. He was a little surprised because he wasn't sad in the slightest about how that relationship had failed. He'd had a nice time with Daniel, but some part of him, deep down inside, always knew he wasn't the one. "I think he could see a lot of things that I was too blind to see for myself."

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean?"

Blaine decided the best way to do this was to be as honest as Kurt had been with him. He could tell it had been hard for Kurt to tell him the truth. It was only fair that Blaine told him the real reason Daniel had left. "I have feelings for you."

It was as if time had stopped. They were looking at each other, completely frozen but suddenly very aware of how little space there was between them, how easy it would be for them to reach out and grab the other by the hand. How easy it would be for their lips to meet again.

"Oh," Kurt sighed, the sound escaping him almost without him noticing. His fingers twitched on the mattress, eager to touch Blaine. But there was doubt in his face, like he couldn't allow himself to simply believe. "Are you…?"

"Don't ask me if I'm sure," Blaine said, sitting on the bed again, grabbing Kurt's hand between his own. He needed to make him understand. "It might have taken me a while to figure it out… but now I just can't believe I didn't see it earlier."

"Blaine…" Kurt whispered, eyes wide. "Please, don't play with me…"

Blaine smiled at him and leaned closer to cup his cheek in his hand gently. "I'm not playing, Kurt."

Kurt's free hand tangled in Blaine's shirt, unconsciously pulling him closer. Their foreheads knocked together, and Kurt let his eyes slip close. "You're not?"

"I'm not," Blaine murmured, and moved in, ready to capture Kurt's mouth with his, at last.

But Kurt reacted at the last possible second, and the hand in Blaine's shirt pushed at his chest to get some space. "Wait. Wait. No."

Blaine felt like his brain had lost speed so his heart could race harder and harder. He blinked, his eyes locked on Kurt's lips, and tried to understand. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to get you sick," Kurt said miserably, like he couldn't believe he was actually stopping this.

Blaine smiled and tilted his head to the side, pressing a sweet, quick kiss to Kurt's cheek. "It's okay. We can wait. We'll wait for the right time. The perfect moment."

Kurt groaned. "I'm actually scared I'm just hallucinating because of the fever."

Blaine chuckled, and stood up, which only made Kurt groan again. "Come on. Lay down. You need to be resting." He tucked Kurt in, like he did sometimes with Max at night. "You need to get better so I can convince you this is not a hallucination."

Kurt smiled tiredly at him. "Are you leaving?"

"I have to," Blaine said sadly. "I didn't tell Sam I was coming here, so he must be waiting for me. And I haven't seen Max much today."

"Give him a kiss from me, okay?" Kurt asked, as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"I will," Blaine assured him, and kissed his forehead, after brushing a strand of hair back from it. Now that he was here, that he could see his touch was welcomed, it was so, so hard to leave. "Text me when you wake up? And if you need anything…"

"Uh huh," Kurt nodded. He was asleep two seconds later.

Blaine picked up the forgotten cups of tea and took them into the kitchen. He made sure Kurt had water on the bedside table, and that his phone was charged. He placed a box of tissues closer to him on the opposite side of the bed, and then, with one last glance at Kurt buried in his bed and looking impossibly miserable and elated at the same time, Blaine left the apartment.

As he walked back to the subway station, texting Sam to let him know he was alive and not to call the police (he knew how much his best friend tended to overreact), he could feel his heart was lighter.

It was wonderful how the most unexpected thing could make one feel complete.

Things are slowly falling into place. What do you guys think?

Have a great week, see you all again on Saturday!

Love,

L.-