Another busy week, and another rush to get this done before bedtime. Hopefully it's alright as it is because I didn't get a chance to double check it. Please let me know if it needs some TLC.

I would like to thank my new reviewers, as well as all the consistent ones who keep me striving to get this out despite the hell of life right now. I would also like to thank everyone who takes a moment to send me a message on tumblr as that is definitely my day-to-day hangout. You are all so sweet and much too wonderful to me.

I would also like to remind those that aren't aware that we have a fanfic author in need. Missbeizy is going through a rough patch and if anyone has any spare change they can donate - she has a link on her tumblr page: .com Honestly, this woman has contributed so much to the fandom and has always been so happy to do it. We're a fandom that has been known to support great causes and one another through it all, and I hope that we can continue to do so even when RIB make the show burst into flames as all the spoilers suggest will happen in season 6.

Thank god for fanfic anyhow. More continuity than the Glee writers, and better plotlines.

Consciousness came in bits and pieces, accompanied by flares of pain and flickers of memory. He could hear voices around him that were familiar and also weren't, fading in and out like they were muffled through a wall. Nothing was said though that he could understand, and even when it felt like he was finally awake, he looked down at himself and saw six fingers on each of his hands that were mysteriously purple and realized that he must be dreaming.

When he finally did wake for real, Kurt found that he could only open his eyes to slivers, and even then then he hastened to snap them shut because the light stabbed his pupils mercilessly, making the dull headache he had grow into a full fledged migraine. Bit by bit he worked up the nerve to open his eyes again, letting them adjust to the light and slowly focus on his surroundings. A white ceiling with an uncovered bulb was over him and it was surrounded by brown walls. He wasn't in Blaine's farmhouse, that much he could establish, but trying to turn his head to look in either direction gave way to spasms in his neck that made his whole body stiffen and ache - even more than it already was. So Kurt stayed in place, not daring to use his voice to alert someone to his consciousness since his throat was so swollen he was surprised he could still breathe on his own.

That left him with his own thoughts, and his mind immediately gave him shit for getting himself into this mess. He had been so damned cocky, so sure of himself. He didn't even check to see who was attacking the guy calling for help; just swooped in and ended up with a crowbar to the back of his head before he knew what was going on. A group ganged up on him, spitting hate as he tried to find an escape or at least fight back, and his only saving grace has been kicking away the one guy's gun before he had been able to use it.

Well, that and having Blaine catch up to them before they got the gun back anyhow.

Blaine...

Kurt forced his head to turn, ignoring the fire it caused through his spine and extremities. First to the right where he saw he was hooked up to some kind of monitor with numbers and words he couldn't understand, and then to the left whereupon he let out a soft, relieved breath at what he saw there. Blaine, curled up in a ratty old chair that looked like it had come straight out of a 1970's sitcom with it's burnt orange colouring and well worn fabric, was asleep there. He was still in his prep school gym attire, a navy polo shirt with the Dalton logo, darker in some places where Kurt had bled on him. His white shorts were similarly dirtied with encrusted blood and dirt, and he had, at some point, kicked off his shoes and let his knee socks collapse down around his ankles. Blaine's jaw was dark, at least a day's growth of stubble collected over it that matched the black circles under his closed eyes and the black hair that had broken free of the gel he used and fallen in ringlets all around his face. Between it all he looked like he had aged years since Kurt had last seen him, at the house saying goodbye that morning in that proper little Dalton outfit he wore that made Kurt realize long ago he had a bit of a thing for boys in uniform.

Or, at least, Blaine in a uniform.

"19 hours, 27 minutes." An unfamiliar voice buzzed behind him, making Kurt hiss in pain as he craned his neck back again to see where it was coming from and finding himself looking upon a thin man with short blonde hair who was looking not at Kurt but at his monitor as he jotted down some information onto a clipboard. He had to be at least 30... maybe even 40... and as Kurt opened his mouth to speak, the man, glanced stoically towards him and responded to the questioned unasked.

"That's how long you've been here. As Isabelle had told me, you are mending faster than a normal human would, but the drugs we've had to administer to you to stop you from screaming in your sleep seem to have slowed the process - though it's still much faster than normal. The blunt force trauma points on your head have been healing up mainly, and I imagine that the rest of you will follow speedily once they're patched up. The only thing that doesn't seem to be healing is your wings, or rather, your feathers. There's no indication that they're growing back as quickly as the rest of you is repairing."

Kurt just blinked a few times. He hadn't even registered until it was pointed out that his wings were oddly bald, and that he was also laying back on top of them. Most of the time he slept on his side, which was a lot more comfortable considering he couldn't usually lay flat on his back.

"Isabelle will be here soon. I contacted her and told her that you were awake once your monitors alerted it to me. She'll explain more." The man said plainly before walking off and leaving Kurt alone with Blaine again.

He left Kurt with more questions than answers, but given the state Kurt was apparently in, he assumed that the answers would come with time. Once again he turned his head back to Blaine with some degree of effort and just watched the boy sleep for the next hour, fond thoughts slowly forming into stress as he realized that he had screwed Blaine's life up now as much as his own. There was no way Blaine had been able to get him somewhere safe without people seeing him. Just how exposed was he now? In trying to make Blaine proud of him and show him how far he'd come, Kurt had just made things worse.

"Oh... sweetpea..." Isabelle's voice crooned out as her heels click-clacked along the floor to Kurt's side, his hand taken into her own before Kurt could even look up towards the friendly, almost motherly face.

"Bryan's been taking good care of you.. he's not much in the way of having good bedside manner, but he's an excellent doctor... and a meta to boot... Oh..." Her free hand reached up to stroke over his cheek and, involuntarily, he winced as her fingers grazed over something sensitive. "Sweetie... god... we could have lost you..."

The voice Kurt managed to dredge up didn't sound like his own - so rough and gravelly, but at least he discovered he could still speak. "Sorry... I didn't mean for this to happen... to make you worry."

"A designer always worries about her best looking models... even if she can't put them on a runway." Isabelle cooed, trying to joke to lighten the mood as she scanned over Kurt with a sigh. "Blaine though... he hasn't left your side except to go to the washroom and even then he races there and back. He's the real worrier."

Kurt's heart seemed to come out of the numb sleep whatever drugs had been pumped into him had it in and smack against his ribs at Isabelle's comment. He looked back to Blaine, sleeping so sweetly near him with the occasional little snore that came off as more cute than irritating and immediately felt guilt tighten in his stomach. Blaine didn't deserve this, and Kurt certainly didn't deserve to be treated so well from him.

"Elliott and I were so sure you two had finally hooked up the way he hovered over you this whole time. Unfortunately it seems you both are still blind, or idiots, or both, and haven't realized what a good couple you'd make."

"My wings Isabelle... I don't have a chance at a normal life... but he... he does. He can pass as normal..." Kurt's raspy voice choked out, so unfamiliar to him that it seemed like someone else was speaking as he looked at Blaine.

"He's never going to be what you think is normal Kurt, and he doesn't want that anyhow." Another sigh came from her as she patted Kurt's shoulder gently. "He called me immediately... ran with you through Westerville. He's been outed too now. Everyone saw him carrying you. The off duty cops that beat you up claimed that you both ganged up on them and told everyone that he got into their minds. He's just as wanted as you are now baby."

Kurt whined softly. "No.. no... He can't... Oh god Isabelle. It's all my fault..."

"He hid with you in a half built house until I got there and picked you up." Isabelle continued, ignoring Kurt's tears that came as an accessory to his guilt. "Took me five hours and he stayed with you the whole time... and then sat in the backseat of my rental until I could get you to Bryan. You kept breaking into screams while you slept. Bryan figured it was because of the pain, or the trauma... but Blaine didn't leave you Kurt. He loves you."

That little tidbit didn't phase Kurt. On some level he knew it was true, and knew he felt the same even if he never did act on it. It did seem to make things worse though. Someone loved him and he had only managed to hurt them. "Isabelle..."

"Look sweetpea... I'll telling you this now because you're too incapacitated to ignore me or walk away. I can only imagine how upset you are at yourself for all this, but don't make it worse by pushing him away, like I think you might do, when he wakes up. He doesn't deserve that. Neither do you."

"But he -"

"Nope. Stop right there. No more of this B-list, romance novel crap where neither of you thinks you're good enough for the other. If this little snafu wasn't enough of a wake up call to you, then I'm officially going to call an intervention. I already lost a bet on how long it would take you two to hook up."

"... there was a bet?"

"Me, Elliott, and a bunch of the other meta's that Blaine has met and some you've talked to online."

"... why on earth?"

"Because all you two would ever talk about is one another."

"... oh."

"For the record, Holly won, but only because she said it would take two months and that was longer than anyone else had estimated when the bet began."

Kurt couldn't possibly respond to that. All he could do was keep looking at Blaine and wondering if he had been wrong about everything over the past few months. He was obviously wrong about his ability to fight crime on his own. He had underestimated his fighting skills, ignoring Blaine's direction and advice for improvement. Kurt thought he was indestructible, going so far as to test his healing by inflicting himself with cuts and bruises. He never considered that he could get hurt worse than any of that. He was sure all his subtle direction to Blaine to play his instruments would help him open up more, help him cope with the pain he had from his past. But even that... it took them arguing over Kurt's stupid ideas about fighting crime in the daytime for Blaine to really open up.

"Also, we reopened the betting since this all happened. If you want to make me happy and help me win Kurt, you'll propose to that man the moment he opens his eyes."

His laugh was wheezy, and rolled over into a bit of coughing, but it was honest at least. Isabelle was a good friend, if not a bit of a pushy one when it came to her competitiveness. When her own melodic voice joined his chuckling, Blaine made a little whine and stretched an arm out, a small roar escaping his lips as he began waking.

"And that's my cue to leave for a bit." Isabelle whispered, leaning down to peck Kurt on the cheek before slipping away. "Remember, help out an old friend."

Kurt would have rolled his eyes if they didn't ache so much.

"Hey... you're awake." Blaine murmured groggily as he looked over at Kurt. He kneeled himself off the chair and onto the floor along Kurt's bed so that he could look at Kurt, face to face, and monopolize Kurt's senses with everything about him. Blaine's face to see, his voice to hear, his musk to smell, and his breath to feel against his face.

"Yeah... thanks to you I'm still alive." Kurt choked out, spitting up almost every syllable as his voice seemed to have to struggle even more to come up out of him with Blaine so close.

"I think you just like me saving you."

"Maybe one day I'll save you."

It became deathly quiet for a moment after that, each of them just staring at the other. Kurt's tears hadn't really dried off yet, and he knew that in addition to how banged up he was, Blaine could probably see he was a hormonal mess. It was far from a good time for Kurt to tell Blaine that he had spent the last few months thinking of him when he touched himself under the covers, no matter how much Isabelle would have his head if she lost this latest bet.

"I'm sorry Blaine... I'm so sorry... Everyone knows now because of me... everyone-"

"Shh..." Blaine's finger was suddenly on his lips, salty and soft to the touch. "I don't care. You have to know that doesn't matter to me."

"But -"

The finger was joined by a second that served to mute him as he looked at Blaine, glad for once that Blaine could see his emotions so that at least he'd know how guilty Kurt really felt about it all.

"It was just a cover Kurt. Dalton was where I lied, not lived, and I know you'd do the same for me."

"But -"

A third finger then. "And just because your gifts are visible on the outside doesn't mean it would be any different."

Kurt stayed quiet then, knowing Blaine only had so many fingers to use up on his lips, and, quite frankly, Kurt was okay with being forced to kiss them as he was. Left without his voice, all he could was let his eyes dart up and down, back and forth, looking and double checking the sincerity of Blaine's words on his face. Blaine's eyes twinkled as he looked at Kurt; warm, whiskey eyes focused completely on Kurt's face and nothing else. Despite how ragged his unruly hair, stubble, and dark circled eyes looked, Blaine looked perfect to Kurt. The epitome of his knight in no-so-shining armor.

The fingers fell away from Kurt's lips then, since Blaine correctly assumed that he wouldn't be interrupted anymore. "I just want you to be alright Kurt. That's all I care about."

Kurt waited for a moment, ensuring that Blaine was truly done before speaking. "I'm okay... or I will be anyhow. Thanks again to you."

"Good." Blaine murmured, moving his hand to take Kurt's and squeeze it softly. "It's good to be useful now and then."

Kurt rolled his eyes then, a struggle given how sore they were, "You've always been useful."

"Hasn't felt like it lately…" Blaine admitted, eyes falling down to the edge of the bed at the stark white sheets, probably more bleach than fabric. "You've been doing everything since you showed up. Crime fighting, cleaning, cooking, making sure I've kept up on prime time TV…"

"God forbid you miss the latest episode of Teen Wolf…" Kurt joked, hoping to urge those caramel eyes to meet his again with the weakest bit of humor he could manage.

They did come back up, soft and hypnotizing. Kurt imagined that when Blaine was a little boy he got away with a lot using those puppy dog eyes. "There's a lot of really great abs on that show."

"Your's are pretty good too." Kurt admitted, letting his mouth turn up at the corners. Flirting came so easily. They had been at it for months, acknowledging one another's assets with no commitment behind it. This was the first time Blaine had his hand on Kurt's when he did it though, and that made it less playful and more serious somehow.

"Has anyone spoken to my dad?" Kurt asked, aptly shifting away from what he felt would lead to a conversation that he wanted and didn't want to have all at once.

"No.. there's too much media on his lawn right now, and government too."

"God…" Kurt hissed, trying to shift a little more onto his side for the sake of comfort. "... I'm the worst son ever to have to make him go through this over and over. Tell me, at least, they got the jerks…"

Blaine's lips pressed tightly together and his eyes shot away momentarily. "They… well…."

"Just turn on the news." Kurt sighed.

A small TV bolted up to the top corner of the wall opposite Kurt was turned on as Blaine stood and left his side, flashing immediately to a scene of the alley entrance that Kurt had gotten himself to trouble in. The news reporter standing in front of it seemed to be all too happy to be on the air, grinning despite the content of what she was speaking of.

"... the officers that were attacked by the winged metahuman plaguing Westerville and other nearby communities, as well as another, unregistered metahuman, are now in county hospital. There is no word on their state but local police commissioner Andrews had this to say…"

The scene switched to a press conference, focusing on the head of Westerville's police force behind the podium. "We will not stand for humans being bullied by those freaks that think they're better. As of ten o'clock this morning, federal meta registration officials have come to Ohio to ensure the security of our people. This attack on our brave men who serve to protect you all is…"

Kurt groaned and looked away from the screen. He had been set-up by the cops. They had intended to end him and now had found a way to use his escape against him regardless. Blaine shut off the TV and stepped back to Kurt's side, pulling the chair to the side of the bed and sitting himself down.

"You have to know that they wouldn't play fair."

"I just wanted to help Blaine…"

"I know. Your dad will know that too… and anyone who has half a mind will know that it's all a set-up."

"So now what?"

Blaine looked up, "We're in New York… the state anyhow, not the city. In a compound south of Lake Erie. This is where I came to learn about meta's, the extent of my abilities, and meet others like us…"

"Is it safe?"

Blaine nodded, looking back down to Kurt. "Yeah. There's some cities around but we're in a pretty remote place, and this specific part of it is in a bunker underground."

"Huh… Like a meta hide-out."

Blaine chuckled, "Kind of… there's only a handful of people that stay here all the time though. It's mostly like a safe house."

"That guy, the doctor, that was in here when I woke up. He's a meta?"

Blaine nodded, "Dr. Ryan. He's not the most sociable guy, but he knows his stuff."

"So his ability has something to do with healing or -"

"Melting."

"Melting?"

"Yeah. He can make himself into a puddle and then back again."

Kurt couldn't hold back the giggle inside him, even if it did hurt coming up. "That's…"

Blaine mirrored the laugh and then gently put his finger against his own lips as he spoke. "Don't bring it up in front of him. He can't stand that he got such an odd power."

"Noted."

When the doctor returned, Kurt's drug regimen was reduced, and as it was reduced, his ability to heal up increased. Blaine stayed at his side the whole time, even when Kurt insisted that Blaine at least go to take a much needed shower. By the next day, Kurt was off the medicine completely, and back to his old self, save for the lack of feathers. Out of shame, he kept the fleshy limbs tight against his back, feeling like they were more naked than they had been before. Dressed and showered, Blaine took him around the facility on a tour of the once-army bunker turned metahuman safe house.

"These are the rooms. I've got one set up for you here. Isabelle was good enough to get Elliott to go to the farmhouse and get a bunch of our stuff before they were able to figure out where I lived and turned the place upside down."

"Blaine… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I keep telling you that. Anyhow, your clothes and things are in number 16 here, and I'm across the hall in 17. We'll stay here until we figure out what to do or where to go next."

"They're okay with that?"

Blaine nodded earnestly, leading Kurt further down the blue painted concrete hallway, an attempt to make things look more homey and less sterile. "So long as we clean up after ourselves and pitch in when they need help on things, they're good. Trust me."

"So who stays here all the time?"

"Dr. Ryan for one.. and there's Howard. He's a level five with the ability to connect into technology. He makes Dr. Ryan look positively charismatic with his social inadequacies, but then again, he gets along better with technology than people. There's Sean who can induce paralysis in others, but is paralysed himself… he requires constant care so he stays here."

Kurt just nodded, knowing he'd no doubt meet these people, and thankful that Blaine was giving him the heads up on them all. As they stepped into what looked like a large common room with a pool table on one side, a foosball table on the other, and a circle of recliners around a large TV in the center, Kurt paused in place. There were people in there and he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet anyone no matter how well Blaine prepared him for it.

"My wings Blaine... they're naked..." he whispered over, stepping back in place as if the motion could make him invisible to the heads already lifting to acknowledge the arrivals.

Thankfully, Blaine stayed at his side, and Kurt didn't have to worry about making the first introduction as a blonde, lanky boy stood up and approached Kurt, holding out a gloved hand. The hand however, was momentarily looked past though as Kurt noticed that springing out from the guy's jeans was a black and white tail, and Kurt had to give his head a shake to bring him back to civility as he took the hand and gave it a shake. "Kurt."

"Adam." The man introduced himself as with a bit of an accent Kurt couldn't quite place, slipping off a cap on his head and revealing a small pair of symmetrical horn curled amidst his blonde locks. "Nice to meet another meta with physical traits. Though I think I'd prefer the wings to my horns and tail."

"And hooves." Blaine added on curtly, voice level as he looked disinterestedly at Adam and then back to Kurt. "Adam's come here from the U.K. Wasn't safe where he was."

"Hope to see you around Kurt. Karaoke night is Thursday." Adam said with a smile, turning away so the tail that couldn't seem to stay in his pants was in full view.

"He seemed nice…" Kurt observed, though got no response to Blaine who took him around, introducing him to Howard, who seemed more interested in the computer he was sitting in front of than Kurt, Sean, who was in a rolling bed set in front of the television which was playing some cop show, and then several others who were there on a temporary basis for various reasons.

There was Henri, whose body parts could regrow and was in hiding for now since his last job as a shop teacher had resulted in him cutting off a finger and being seen by some students as it regrew back. Sunshine, who, as her name suggested, could create illumination, was in the bunker after coming from the Philippines where she had been tossed out of her home once it was clear she was a metahuman. Quite sure of himself, Jesse was quick to show off his ability to mimic any physical skill he saw, from boxing to dancing, and was here on a self-imposed vacation from what he claimed was a busy schedule. There was April, a more mature woman who had apparently been in the safe house time and time again due to a love of liquor, leading her to repeatedly "accidentally" reveal her abilities of poison immunity by downing arsenic - which no one was quite sure how she managed to get. With April was Holly, a woman who had the ability to make her clothing and accessories change at will. She was there to spend some time with "gal pal" April. Finally there was Sebastian, another meta that had managed to keep his abilities hidden, even from his family, until he was able to get in contact with the league, probably due in no small part to his ability to coerce people to do or believe what he wanted them to using his words.

Kurt made a mental note not to trust that one, especially after Kurt had caught him eyeing Blaine up and down like a piece of meat.

"So what do we do while we're here?" Kurt asked after all the instructions were done with and Blaine had taken him to a communal kitchen where there were now sitting with some ready-made meals in front of them.

"There's online courses we can take, a gym, lots of games… really, there's nothing set to do or to not do. Isabelle will look into finding us a new place to move to and we just have to bide our time until then."

Kurt nodded, not mentioning that Blaine had once again suggested that they were moving together, as if what had been a matter of convenience at the farmhouse was now set in stone. It wasn't that he minded, more that he wondered why Blaine wouldn't want the chance to live alone again - or at least with someone that wouldn't risk getting him exposed as Kurt had.

"You trained here?"

Blaine nodded, mouth full of sandwich.

"How did that work?"

Blaine swallowed. "Well, Dr. Ryan did a full battery of tests and a lot of experiments… You might want to see about getting them done too, if only because we never knew about your ability to cry out like you did until you did it in that alleyway…"

Kurt nodded, "I didn't know about that either… it was all adrenaline…"

"It reminds me of this heroine, Black Canary, she's Green Arrow's main love interest and she-"

Kurt swiftly lifted a hand to silence Blaine. He knew where this would lead, and didn't want to spend the next hour fighting off sleep as Blaine went into the whole comic book mythology. "No."

"Sorry." Blaine chuckled.

"What's that about?" Kurt asked, pointing over at a black and red poster with a sketched out fist. KNOW YOUR STRENGTH was emblazoned across it, along with a website link and password.

"Oh… that's for… the extremists I guess. Metahumans who feel like they are actually superior to regular humans…"

"What do they do?"

"Make it harder for those of us who want to just peacefully coexist to do just that." Blaine sighed, taking his last bite and then pushing away the empty plate. "Safe houses are open to all meta's, regardless of their take on the meaning of their existence. You'll find that some people here might try to recruit you to what they believe is a noble cause even though it's anything but noble."

"Should I be worried?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… you're smart Kurt. I mean, you're probably better at reading people than I am in all honesty."

"It's the vocabulary..." Kurt said by means of dismissing the compliment. It had become a regular thing that Blaine would struggle to come up with an emotion he was seeing off someone, describing it in as much details as he could, and Kurt coming up with the odd word that was attached to it. Lugubrious, melancholy, morose, tenebrific, blithesome, compunctious - a plethora of new words that Kurt had taught to Blaine in the hopes of helping him verbalize some of the emotions he saw and thought there weren't words for. Kurt had helped Blaine to create a spectrum for each of the major emotions, plotting those sub-emotions upon it to help organize how he saw them. There were still words they couldn't come up with, and as Kurt had helped Blaine with the chart he had realized that there were a lot of feelings that there were no true words for, especially when all Blaine could describe it as was purple-pinky-yellow-greenish.

"No. It's more than that. You're amazing." Blaine said softly, eyes once again locked on Kurt in that intense manner he had, where Kurt was sure he saw nothing else in the room but him.

"Thank you... You're pretty great yourself."

God that sounded lame. With all the words he had at his disposal, great was what had come up with. Good job Hummel.

Blaine seemed to pick up on bits of what Kurt was feeling and let out a small chuckle as he held his eyes on Kurt with a playful grin. "Thanks. I try."

Awkward silence followed that as both boys fidgeted with their fingers. Blaine was the one to break it, as was usually the case, snapping his head up and asking. "I was wondering.. how did your feathers feel… I mean… coming out like that?"

The question sent an involuntary shudder down Kurt's spine as he recalled the beating. "It hurt… like nothing ever has before. It felt like they were tearing out my arm or my leg over and over again… it was utterly incapacitating."

"Can I.. massage them or something? Do they still hurt?"

They didn't hurt anymore, but Blaine looked so earnest, so eager across from him, and Kurt just wanted him to know that he appreciated him…

"Yeah… okay."

Blaine stood up then, and Kurt leaned forward to allow Blaine access to his back and wings, which he let fall out a little for better access. The instant Blaine's fingers began to rub over the wing joints, Kurt had to take in a deep breath and hold it. Warmth pooled in his belly, making him flush up from toes to nose. He was certain there were bundles of nerves in the arms of his wings, and he was sure Blaine innately knew just how to rub his fingers into those spots to make Kurt come completely apart with his touch.

"Are they always so tense and tight…?" Blaine asked quietly as he worked his magic fingers while Kurt mentally thanked whatever god or gods that existed that he was facing away from Blaine and so was his lap.

"I… don't know?" Kurt squeaked out, taking in another deep breath.

"Well… let me know when you want me to stop…"

Kurt didn't want Blaine to ever stop, at least his body didn't - his mind was trying to knock on his senses, reminding him that he was quickly going to lose all sense of propriety if he kept allowing Blaine to go on. Something must in his aura must have altered Blaine to that though because his hands pulled away, leaving his wings feeling cold and abandoned.

"I should… probably get to bed."

"Yeah." Kurt agreed, weakly choking up the single word. He waited until Blaine said good night and walked away before getting up himself and adjusting his pants so the issue in his underwear wouldn't be obvious if he ran into anyone in the hallways. The last thing he needed was to be the target of teasing at his latest home.

Though, his main concern he decided as he shut his eyes after curling up in the cot provided for him, was not how others might perceive him here, but how he was going to manage to tell Blaine the truth about how he felt.

Because he didn't have a clue how to do that.