A/N: Exams are done! *slow-mo sucessful fist pump to Gotta Fly Now* (If you don't know this song, you should look it up. The Maynard Ferguson version. Most epic song of life.)

Both boys were frozen for a moment before Blaine, hands disappointingly empty of a phone, hurried off of Kurt. Not that he didn't want to be sprawled across the guy he liked. But because the girl who had just entered was rushing up to the bed and he really didn't want to be in the way of whatever it was she was planning to do. She practically skidded to a halt beside the bed and began to poke and prod Kurt; checking his pulse, looking into his eyes for something, checking a reflex in his knee (which he did not appreciate) and reaching over to grab his casted arm to check on it. All it took was one look at the boxy plaid skirt and extremely unflattering blouse for Blaine to know who it was. Kurt still complained about her wardrobe, even though they didn't go to the same school anymore. He said that the horrible memory was seared into his brained like a horror movie.

"Rachel!" Kurt gasped, pulling his arm away with a wince. "I'm fine!"

"I'm just making sure," Rachel quipped. "Doctors often times make the wrong prognosis and I was just making sure that they made no mistakes."

"I'm pretty sure they know what their doing," Kurt said briskly. "Besides, what makes you think that you would make a better judgement than a doctor."

The continued to bicker like this for a couple of minutes, leaving Blaine more than a little confused. Sure, Kurt had complained for probably a solid hour about how pushy and bossy and annoying and high maintenance and horribly dressed and diva-ish the small girl was, but the last (and only) time he'd seen them together was at Sectionals. And they were pretty buddy-buddy then. But now they were bickering like an old married couple.

Simultaneously, the two diva's whirled around and snapped, "We are not!"

Blained blinked. Oops. Did he say that out loud?

"Well," he chanced, "If you could hear yourselves than you'd say the same thing."

Apparently he took the wrong chance for a pillow was suddenly flying at him and, since he was too close to react quick enough, it smacked him right in the face. Before he could whine a reply, Kurt asked Rachel,

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

Peeking out from behind the pillow, Blaine noticed Rachel's fiery energy dissipate a little. She glanced at the ground and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she mumbled,

"Well, Noah texted me and—"

"Wait wait wait," Kurt backtracked. "Puck told you? Please don't tell me he's trying to be 'a good Jew' for his mom again by dating you?"

Rachel shook her head, giving him a momentary weak glare before averting her eyes again, this time to blank heart monitor that came with every bed. Lowering the pillow to his lap, Blaine peered at Rachel, a little curious as to how the small brunette and the very large very unamused looking football player could ever have had a relationship. He didn't peg her as the bad boy type.

"He's being very helpful with… relationship troubles. Even though Finn and I are temporarily not a couple he's still keeping his boundaries. We only made out once before he stopped himself. Anyway," she brightened suddenly, dropping the quiet bashfulness so quick that Blaine would have thought she was bipolar. "He told me you were here so I decided to stop by to make sure you were alright. And then, while I was in the car, I got another text. Of course, I waited until I was in the parking lot before reading it because using a cell phone while driving is extremely reckless and stupid. Which brings me to my now other reason for coming."

Rachel all but stormed over to the other side of the bed. Or, rather, to a very confused and slightly frightened Blaine. Not frightened like Puck had made him. But like a "Whaaat the hell is going on?" kind of way. She shoved a finger in his face (which prompted an auto-reaction of innocently raised hands and moving the chair so that it was backing up) and said sternly, her voice rising in pitch and passion as she went on,

"You'd better be careful, Blaine. Kurt likes you. A lot. And if you break his heart and throw little unborn chickens at him then you're going to have to face the wrath of twelve—well eleven. No, Mr. Shue would probably be extremely unamused, so make it twelve — furious friends, at least five of which would probably not be too gentle. Plus you'll ruin your chance at Regionals since he might lose all will to sing for a while, or at least sing as well as he can, which means your team would suffer, because we all know that Kurt was the only reason you and your songbirds even got to Regionals even though he didn't have a solo—well, actually we probably tied because I wasn't on leads, but that's besides the point. The point is is that you'd better treat him right and make sure that any song you sing together is so cheerful that it would make the Munchkins look depressed!"

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest, looking at him expectantly.

Blaine was pretty sure that this was the most awkward silence he'd ever been in in his life. He was too busy gaping at the overly passionate soprano with an utterly blank mind to glance at Kurt. But, since he wasn't making a comment back, he assumed that the boy was just as shell shocked as he was (and probably really embarrassed). He probably was, since she gestured to Kurt and added,

"See! He doesn't blush like that for everyone.! Or at all really. Therefore—"

"Thanks for visiting, Rachel." Kurt's voice was quiet. "You can leave now."

"But Kurt—"

"Leave. Now." He repeated with a little more force. She huffed again and went fishing through one of the pockets in her skirt.

"Fine," she said curtly, placing a folded piece of paper with a gold star sticker on the bed. "Here's a list of good teas and soups for your throat. I always use them when I'm sick and I'm back singing in no time. Feel better!"

And she was gone, which seemed to make the quiet all the more awkward. The boys looked simultaneously at each other before looking away. Blaine shifted in his seat, moving it back to where it was before so that he wasn't so far away. He glanced at Kurt again, who's gaze was flickering everywhere in the room. Well, everywhere but at him.

Well, that was the strangest speech yet. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what she had said exactly, but the phrases 'furious friends', 'Regionals', 'unborn chickens', and 'Kurt likes you. A lot' stuck in his mind. That last one was the one he took a grasp on. So Kurt did like him? A lot? He was actually a little stuck on it. He'd been so busy worrying about the other boy's thoughts that he didn't really know what to think now that he did. Or, at least, he thought he knew. Maybe Rachel was just frustrated at losing her boyfriend and decided to sabotage another potentially wonderful relationship because she was pissed. Girls were vengeful like that, weren't they?

The other phrase—or rather, word— that stuck out to him was 'text'. Now it wasn't so much what the text had said, so much as reminding him about the the text that Kurt had gotten that made him want to hide his head in a hole like an ostrich. He glanced casually around for the phone, spotting it on the other side of Kurt, just lying there and begging to be read. But it was still too risky at the moment.

Kurt had been silent the entire time. He was pretty sure that the injured boy had looked at him a few times and opened his mouth to say something, only to shut his mouth and look away again. Blaine tapped out a beatless rhythm on the arms of the chair before clearing his throat. Well, might as well get this awkwardness over with. And hopefully cause a distraction so that he could grab that phone.

"I quite agree, Kurt," Blaine commented. "You do have the weirdest friends."

While Blaine wasn't quite expecting it, he wasn't surprised to see Kurt finally bury his hands in his face and groan incoherent words to his fingers. But it did make him grin. For Kurt covering his face and, in turn, his eyes was all Blaine needed. Quick as he could he jumped up and reached over Kurt. The injured boy was a little quicker than Blaine thought he'd be, and was already grabbing at the thief's jacket sleeve. Fortunately, Blaine was a little quicker and managed to hop out of the way before Kurt could get a good grip. He retreated to the far wall, already having the phone unlocked (no passcode Kurt? Geez.) and the text folder opened while Kurt was still sliding out of bed.

The grin froze on his face when he read them. Yes, them. Turned out there was more than one.

No way u gotta man, ladyface. U bang yet?
Congrats, Kurt! Bring him 2 glee sometime 2 so we can meet him.
Yo man. Nice. Tina asks if hes nice.
plz tll ur dolfin 2 not hert my dolfin or my bf wll run him ovr :)
Dude, nice. Id highfive u, but its a txt

There was another one but Kurt had pretty much tackled him by this point and was trying to grab his phone. Unfortunately, Blaine was about an inch shorter than Kurt, so holding it teasingly above his head wasn't going to work. He actually had to use his body as a shield while Kurt tried to reach around him, keeping the injured arm out of the way.

"Give. It. To. Me. Blaine," he ground out as he groped. Blaine grinned.

"Aw, c'mon," he teased, voice sounding a bit strained from the inconvenient stretching. "You're friends are…quirky."

"They'll be dead soon," Kurt growled, finally stretching Blaine to his limit. He yelped when he felt Kurt's hand grab the phone (and his ring finger) and yanked it from his grasp. Which lead to an ungraceful spin as he was forced around before he could free said trapped finger.

"Ow!" He cried, but Kurt paid him no mind. The countertenor just stomped back to his bed like an irritated child. Blaine grinned and resisted the urge to crack his knuckles.

Transition time.

"Hey," Blaine added a little softer, ignoring the throb in his finger. "Nice to see they care, right?"

Kurt paused, but didn't say anything. Blaine continued.

"You should be glad they're supportive."

Kurt glanced down at his phone, absentmindedly tapping at the screen.

He murmured, "But we're—"

He stopped himself, looking up at Blaine, who gave a small grin.

"Not even dating?" He finished. Kurt nodded. Blaine's heart thumped excitedly. Alright, here we go. Time to put both feet in the sandbox. All or nothing.

"Well, we—"

"Kurt!" A gruff voice interrupted. Blaine resisted the urge to groan.