KURT

In the end, Kurt had been too impatient to wait for his shift to end, and he had tried to call Blaine during his intermission. Repeatedly. He eventually reached Sam, who was looking for a new place to stay now that he could afford it, and Sam said he hadn't seen Blaine since that afternoon when he was "taping off his crime-scene". Kurt felt Sam's description was very fitting for what Blaine had done to his chi.

But where was he?

Blaine still hadn't come home by the time Kurt came back from the diner. Kurt changed out of his uniform, showered, and got dressed again, anticipating the heavy slide of the loft door and dreading it at the same time. He sat down on the couch, took up a magazine, and stared at the pages until the words blurred in front of his eyes. He didn't know what he was going to do- though with every minute Blaine stayed away it became clearer what heshould do.

Finally, the door slid open and Blaine tiptoed in.

"Hey," Kurt said, startling him.

"Hi," Blaine replied, lingering at the door as if trying to guess Kurt's mood before stepping into the apartment.

"So, you went to see Elliott," Kurt prompted, curious as to what Blaine was going to say about it.

Blaine's eyes went a little wider and he remained at the door, standing still like a deer in headlights.

"Uh, yeah. I did. What did he say?"

"He said the two of you talked about how you were having trouble adjusting to the… pace of the city."

Say something. At least tell me the truth. You owe me that, Kurt begged silently, but Blaine just nodded and looked relieved.

"Yeah. He's a good guy," Blaine said. "He's a good friend to you."

Better than you think, Kurt thought. "He's one of the only real friends I've made since I came here. He texted me as soon as you left his apartment." He paused. "Six hours ago."

The implication was clear. Blaine didn't say anything, but Kurt, who had a lot of experience in trying to read Blaine's facial expressions, knew he was starting to feel nervous.

"So I guess I've just been wondering where you've been…" he added, giving Blaine one more chance to come clean on his own accord.

"I thought you had to work?" Blaine asked sharply, probably hoping to deflect the topic.

"I did, but it sounded like something we should talk about, so I tried calling you. Over and over." Kurt crossed his arms, bracing himself.

"Well, I um… actually took a….water taxi to the Statue of Liberty," Blaine fumbled. "I just needed some space so I could think, I guess."

Kurt repressed a scoff. He needed space?! Then he shook his head.

"I went to the High Line on my way home to do the same," he said quietly.

He had considered a lot of options. Putting Blaine's things by the door (in a box to the left) seemed too dramatic. Taking a break to spend time with his dad felt like running away (and he had work, school and his band). So once more, he had decided to try and talk it out with Blaine…only what use was that when Blaine either shut down the conversation or even worse- lied by omission?

"I think-" Kurt started.

"Wait. Can I go first?" Blaine cut in, giving Kurt a shy look.

Kurt could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he rubbed his arms. Here we go, he told himself. Confession time. He nodded wordlessly, afraid of what Blaine was going to say even though he already knew what it was.

"I was thinking, maybe we should schedule, like, one bro-day every week," Blaine announced.

"Uh…a what?" Kurt asked, baffled.

"Well, you said you were feeling crowded, so I figured, if we each have one day of the week to hang out with our friends instead of with each other, you can let it all out. I could do something with Sam and you could do those things you do with Elliott, like… hanging out at the music store and stuff. It would keep the weekends free for us, too!"

"And by 'and stuff' I assume you mean my band rehearsals?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's casual shrug confirmed it, and Kurt got furious.

All the tension that had been building up over the past hours broke loose. "A bro- day," he repeated. "A BRO-DAY?! That's it, that's your solution?"

"Well, it's a start," Blaine said patronizingly, "I wasn't saying that would solve all of our problems…"

"I don't see how it would," Kurt remarked coldly.

"Well, what's your idea then?" Blaine let out. "More relationship tips you read in Vogue magazine? Or shall we just try turning our couch 90 degrees clockwise to improve the energy flow in the room?"

"No," Kurt replied slowly. "It's actually even simpler. How about you tell me the truth about what happened at Elliott's? That you kissed him?"

Blaine's lips formed an "Oh" and he raised his eyebrows. Then he regained control over his features and worked them into a scowl. "Why? You already know anyway. I should have known. The two of you are always texting like school girls. I don't even want to know all the things you've told him about us-"

"He also told me you hit on him before and he turned you down," Kurt continued, ignoring Blaine's counter attack. "So not only did you kiss someone else- you did it without their permission. You of all people should know how I feel about that."

"You make it sound like I planned it!" Blaine protested. "It wasn't like that at all!"

"Then what was it like? You tripped and fell on his mouth?" Kurt asked.

Blaine let out a frustrated huff of air. "No! I was just-… We were talking and he was so sweet, so helpful, and… I don't know- I just got overwhelmed."

"Funny, no one kissed me at the diner today and yet I was so sweet and helpful too," Kurt said sarcastically. "Really Blaine? You got overwhelmed? You walked around for six hours at the Statue of Liberty and that's the best you came up with?"

Kurt sighed. "A trip we promised we'd take together by the way," he reminded Blaine. "I waited with going there for months for you to move here so we could make a memory there."

"We could still do that," Blaine tried, "I could just go again."

"It wouldn't be the same," Kurt said sadly, and felt like he had just described their entire relationship since Eli C.

Somehow, Blaine seemed to have caught that, too. He suddenly looked very contrite. They were both silent for a while.

"Kurt," Blaine then said softly, "I wasn't at the Statue of Liberty."

Kurt closed his eyes.

"I went to meet someone from Grindr."

Kurt wanted to stop listening, but he couldn't. Blaine kept talking, and it felt like he was carving every word into Kurt's heart.

"I did it for us. You seemed so unsatisfied lately, I thought maybe I was doing something wrong. You have no idea how it made me feel knowing I couldn't give you what you needed-"

Something snapped inside of Kurt.

"Don't you dare pin this on me again!" he yelled, pointing his finger forbiddingly at Blaine. "If you wanted to know what I needed, you could have asked me. What you're saying is bullshit. You met up with someone because you were horny, end of story. And you know what, Blaine? You went too far this time."

Kurt turned on his heels and walked to their shared bedroom. He grabbed something from the suitcase under his bed and came stalking back with angry strides. "Here," he said, thrusting a sheet of paper at Blaine.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Come on, Kurt," he sighed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oprah's No More Cheating Contract, printed from her website. You signed it before we got engaged." When Blaine wouldn't take it, Kurt threw it on the floor between them. "Oprah is not ridiculous," he said. "And neither is wanting a faithful husband." And with that, he took Blaine's engagement ring from his finger and held it out.

Blaine stared at it, then looked at Kurt. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Kurt heard himself say. He felt like he was watching a daytime tv-drama instead of living his own life. This couldn't be real, could it?

"You'll regret doing this," Blaine threatened, and took the ring from Kurt's trembling palm.

"I'm gonna go so you can pack," Kurt said, feeling hollow. "I want you gone before I come back." With a terse smile, he added: "You can get a place with Sam and have bro-days every day."

Kurt grabbed his coat and his phone and walked out of the loft without looking back.

Once he was outside and a few blocks away, it hit him what he had just done, and he took out his phone. He needed his band, and he needed them now.