- - -

Kurt bit his lip anxiously, wringing his hands in the passenger seat of his father’s truck. They were halfway home from a long meeting with the headmaster of Dalton Academy. After explaining the situation and armed with a recommendation from Sue Sylvester, the headmaster agreed to Kurt’s transfer starting the following monday.

An envelope emblazoned with Dalton’s crest rested in his lap, inside was a booklet detailing course curriculum and expectations. Perhaps Kurt was imagining it, but somewhere between the academic honesty policy and dress code policy, an anti-discrimination policy was warm and glowing against the rest of text. He could make that happen, he reasoned with a smile - warm and glowing like the sun.

He’d still have to tell the Glee club the next day, and his heart sunk at the prospect of leaving behind the one good thing that came from William McKinley High School.

Carole knew of course, the decision to transfer Kurt to another school was a mutual decision between the two newlyweds, but neither their parents nor Kurt had yet to inform Finn.

It made the whole “brothers” thing seem rather short-lived in hindsight.

With much reluctance, Kurt was able to see logic in Burt’s argument for him to board at Dalton. It was more expensive, but the math worked out that driving back and forth to Lima was simply too much money on gas and car maintenance to warrant being a day student. 

He would drive home every friday, get home in time for dinner and drive back sunday mornings, Burt reasoned.

It was a little like college-lite, Burt joked.

Except Westerville wasn’t New York. This wasn’t a victory by any stretch of the imagination. He was a coward.

‘You’re wrong.’ The foreign thought floated into his mind. Kurt’s head snapped up and he looked around the cabin. Burt gave him a fleeting odd look before returning to the road. The teen glanced past the rearview at the mirror and did a double take. Dark-eyed and hair disheveled by the wind, Blaine stared at Kurt in the mirror from the bed of the truck. 

Kurt whipped around in his seat, the seat belt catching against the safety and tugging painfully against his chest. The other teen had vanished.

“Jesus, Kurt, what the hell?”

“Nothing,” Kurt replied shakily, “Thought I saw something in the mirror.”

Burt eyed Kurt with suspicion. 

“Really, Dad, it’s nothing.”

- - -

Kurt flopped onto his bed, the comforter puffing up around him. He gathered one of his pillows in his arms and screamed loudly into it. Downstairs he knew both Carole and his father would share a worried look and after an internal debate on parenting would quietly ask if Kurt was alright and if he needed something.

He didn’t. At least... he didn’t want to talk about it.

His life was unraveling around him.

The bed sank beside him, an early warning that Kurt was no longer alone in his room. “Your life was threatened,” not-Blaine pressed. He stood up and clenched his fists together for a second before continuing animatedly with his hands, “You have every right to want to yell or just hit something. March into Dalton and just be fantastic. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone except to yourself. Take back control of your life.”

“I can’t even control you,” Kurt, still buried in a mountain of pillows and quilts, glared belligerently at not-Blaine. 

The ghost paused before smiling cheekily, “But I’m so much more interesting this way.”

“I think I’ll take boring for a little while, thank you very much,” Kurt replied into his pillow.

With a soft voice, the ghost replied simply, “You wouldn’t be you.”

Kurt couldn’t help but roll over with a suppressed grin, “Who are you? My dad?”

Not-Blaine scoffed with raised eyebrows, “That would be some sort of weird Freudian nightmare.”

“And besides, I wouldn’t have imagined you in that tasteless blazer.” Kurt retorted indifferently, too preoccupied with fixing his hair and clothes to think of any of the implications of not-Blaine’s previous statement.

“Uhh, it’s a school uniform,” not-Blaine replied curtly, the duh in his expression left to hang in the air unsaid. He clapped Kurt on the shoulder jovially, “And you should get used to it, considering you’re wearing it on Monday.”

Kurt pouted, glancing quickly to his closet where his own blazer and tie hung from the door. It made the whole thing seem a little bit more real. 

“Oh my God!” Blaine laughed as realization dawned on the his face, “You’re only going to need to pack like one suitcase!” Kurt responded by hitting him with a pillow repeatedly. “It’s like... awww... man... you’re going to have to pack a ton of brooches... and like really colorful socks!”

He pushed on Blaine’s shoulder, causing both him and Blaine to topple off the bed and crash into one another.

“You should at least let Rachel Berry wear some of your sweaters,” Blaine tried to joke with a serious expression, ignoring the proximity between the two.

“They look better on my hanger!” Kurt returned hotly. Blaine’s muscles tensed underneath him and his breath hitched. “You...” Kurt stammered, feeling his face flush with blood and the action made him blush all the more.

The two were close, close enough that if he wanted, if Blaine wanted... 

Kurt licked his lips.

They were so close, a mere breath away. Kurt could see all the details of Blaine’s face, the way his eyelashes fanned out against olive skin and the wide, infinitely dark of his pupils. He could fall in and lose himself forever in those eyes.

“Kurt… you know deep down that I’m not really Blaine,” not-Blaine whispered, “Please, don’t go down this road again. Just like I wasn’t her before.”

The moment lost, Kurt sighed and turned over onto his back and away from the specter. “I know,” he whined, “It doesn’t help that I actually want you here right now.”

“I’m not Blaine,” the ghost reminded him shortly. Not-Blaine lingered close to Kurt for a millisecond before stood up shakily, shifting his weight foot to foot as Kurt sat up against his bed.

“Then look in a mirror,” Kurt quipped, throwing the pillow at him. The pillow sailed through not-Blaine’s chest in a silver cloud of sparkles, gathering quickly back into the shorter teen. Not-Blaine tilted his head and looked at him with exasperation. “Oh shut up,” Kurt snapped.

- - -

Kurt pushed aside the lingering memory of the heartbroken faces of his friends as Dalton came into view the following Sunday. Well, except for Rachel’s, who true to form was immediately concerned with the implications his transfer would have on Glee competition. He couldn’t really begrudge her that, he’d be more concerned if she hadn’t.

His father was behind the wheel and the trunk was loaded up with the suitcases and various school supplies Kurt had thought to bring with him. He still brought a few choice outfits outside of Dalton’s uniform, just in case he had a night out or a date perhaps...

Finn was following them in the truck so that Kurt could have his Navigator to go home for the weekend. The other boy had spent the weekend attempting to bond with Kurt which Kurt appreciated, but he was far better at it when he wasn’t trying. The increased attention from Finn also meant he didn’t have any more visits from his ghostly friend, which was a blessing enough.

It seemed as though the calvary knew they were coming because as they rounded the drop-off by the student dorms a handful of students were on hand to greet them. They were all handsome and smiles in their various Dalton t-shirts and hoodies, helping Burt and Finn unload the cars and whisked those suitcases away to Kurt’s room.

Burt told Finn to go with the luggage and they’d meet up later as the remaining Dalton student approached them with a wave.

“Wes!” Kurt smiled, happy he remembered the Warbler councilman’s name. 

The senior straightened his already perfect posture, standing at full height and hands clasped together in the front. “Mister Hummel,” Wes nodded respectively, “Kurt. It’s nice to see you again. I’m really glad you’re here with us.”

Wes shook Burt’s hand and motioned to the building across the lawn behind him where Kurt’s belongings had disappeared off to. “These are the student dorms, each class has their own building governed by one member of faculty and an elected classmate as resident assistant. David Thompson is the RA for your building, so if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to knock on his door any hour of the night,” he gave Kurt a slight, knowing smile before he added, “You met him before when you came to see the Warbler’s perform.”

Burt launched into some questions about the campus and Wes replied with short diplomatic answers. Kurt’s mind wandered elsewhere as the trio continued into the junior dorms. 

Inside, they found Finn guarding Kurt’s things, warily eyeing the prim and proper Dalton students patiently waiting orders from Wes. With a short nod of dismissal and a word of thanks, each of the students shook Burt and Kurt’s hands, some more friendly students welcomed Kurt with hugs. 

Finn gave Kurt a serious look, “I made sure they didn’t turn anything over or lay anything on top of anything else. Oh, and even the suitcases with wheels I had them carry so the sidewalks wouldn’t scuff up the wheels.” Nevertheless, Finn seemed nervous, and Kurt thought it was endearing his step-brother had tried so hard to make sure everything went according to Kurt’s high standard - nothing short of perfection.

Kurt laughed. Burt gave a chuckle, “Good thinking kiddo,” he clapped Finn on the shoulder. 

“Is Blaine here?” Kurt asked Wes, attempting to sound as casual as he could manage. He looked over Wes’s shoulder to the hallway, hoping to see his bright-eyed telepathic friend appear in the doorway.

Wes smirked in Kurt’s direction and shook his head. “I’m afraid Blaine isn’t on the student welcoming committee,” he replied apologetically, “And even if he were, unfortunately he is confined to his room for failure to disclose an out-of-town trip during class hours with the faculty.”

Burt chuckled, “They’re able to ground the students here?”

Finn paled, “Is that legal?”

Kurt thought over the Wes’s sentence carefully. It sounded an awful lot like... “He got in trouble because of me?” Kurt gasped. Burt looked as though he was ready to march to the headmaster, before Kurt interrupted, “It was my idea. He was only skipped and came to McKinley because I asked him.”

“Skipped?” Burt asked in annoyance. He hadn’t heard that part of the story.

The senior Dalton student frowned sympathetically, “The Headmaster knows why the two of you met. However well-intentioned Blaine’s actions were, he put himself and others in serious public risk.”

Kurt’s face fell, “So he can’t even come say hello?”

“You’ll see him tomorrow if you share any classes, otherwise he’ll join you for dinner after Warbler practice.” Wes smiled at them amicably, catching Kurt’s attention to the desk with a pile of paperwork. 

Kurt admired it, leaving through the various documents that all looked so official. 

“These are your room agreements, as well as the primary forms regarding room inspections. You’ll need to go over these, sign, date them, and give them to David before the end of the day. On school nights like tonight, curfew is at eleven and lights out at midnight. On fridays and saturdays for those students remaining on campus, the curfew is one and lights out by two. They’re not hard and fast rules, but we try our best to follow them.”

Burt nodded along, “And he’s okay leaving his car here?”

“Of course Sir,” Wes replied immediately, “I’ll actually show you where you can pick up the application for a parking permit and while we’re in the office I’ll inform them that Kurt’s vehicle is here in the meantime.”

The elder Hummel hummed in reply before he turned to Kurt. He waved the teen forward into a bear hug. “Okay kid, Finn and I are going to take off and let you settle in.”

Finn also gave Kurt a tight hug, lifting Kurt a few inches off the floor. Kurt panicked but smiled, “Take care of yourself Finn. And Dad. And Carole...”

“And the Glee Club,” Finn thankfully interrupted before Kurt could continue listing off everyone’s names one by one, “I know.”

“Call me when you get home,” Kurt waved. He didn’t want to see them go, but if they didn’t leave soon it’d be dark before they got back to Lima.

One last wave and Burt and Finn left with Wes, leaving Kurt alone in his room. The emptiness stifled him. With an indifferent shrug, Kurt tried to ignore the silence by unpacking.

- - -

Kurt rocked his first day at Dalton, refusing to allow himself to wallow in lingering thoughts of McKinley. The school still turned him around in a dizzying manner that McKinley never managed, thankfully passing students would point him in the right direction and the teachers were remarkably accommodating when he showed up late to class. No one held his hand and he hadn’t taken any shortcuts throughout the day though, much to his disappointment.

But when he marched up to Wes and the other members of the Warbler council after their meeting in order to audition for the venerable group he owned that too.

The audition was more of a formality, apparently Blaine had taken the initiative to pull up those New Directions performances that were online the previous week. The councilmen all had been considerably impressed with Kurt and the group itself, between the variety of the voices and strength of the choreography. According to David, many of the younger Warblers, Blaine included, had sent anxious glances towards the senior council throughout the viewing. Kurt didn’t need to be a telepath like Blaine to tell that they were all appropriately nervous about the upcoming sectionals competition with the New Directions.

With a swell of confidence in his chest, Kurt excused himself from the council, finding Blaine outside in the hall waiting for him. “Kurt!” He caught the taller boy and enveloped him in a crushing hug, “Welcome to Dalton. And of course congratulations are in order for your audition. I may have eavesdropped a little, just a small bit, to see how you were doing and what the council was thinking.”

Kurt tilted his head to one side at the sight of his friend, “It’s nice of you to finally give me the Dalton hello.”

Blaine’s face fell. “I’m sorry, there were things we had do deal with, and Wes probably told you I was in time-out like a five and a half year-old,” he immediately apologized, sheepishly making himself smaller as his shoulders hunched and his face blushed with embarrassment. He shook his head with a small laugh and continued with cheer and a smile, “But I’ll make it up to you tonight. I can show you around Westerville or Dalton, whatever you want, I am yours to command, your majesty.”

The taller teen laughed, holding himself regally as the two continued down the hallway towards the dining hall. “I suppose I may have one or two things in mind,” he replied airily, “I wouldn’t mind a trip to the supermarket first. I want to familiarize myself with the junior kitchen before the teachers decide to give me even more homework. My first home-away-from-home-cooked-meal.”

“Will you make enough for two?” Blaine chirped.

“I will make enough for two,” Kurt echoed fondly. He straightened his tie, dislodged from Blaine’s earlier hug, in an effort to distract himself from the myriad of ideas swirling in his head as to what to make for him and Blaine.

Blaine nodded thoughtfully, “And in case you were wondering, my favorite dish is siopao.”

“I wasn’t, but that’s good to know,” the older teen replied. He’d remember that for later, after he looked up what they were.

“Steamed meat buns,” the shorter boy hummed, grinning from ear to ear, “I’ll get the recipe from my mom.”

Kurt pursed his lips, Blaine’s seemingly innocent slips of the mind were beginning to get on Kurt’s nerves, regardless of however playfully Blaine meant them to be. “We better get going before the markets close,” he said with a disappointed sigh.

If Blaine ‘heard’ Kurt’s complaint, he didn’t mention it aloud. The wide smiled softened and his eyes sparkled apologetically. He quietly laced his fingers with Kurt’s, and tried to pull him towards a doorway, “I know a shortcut!” 

Kurt chuckled as he tugged Blaine in the other direction down the hall, “Blaine. I may have gotten lost four times today, but I know the parking lot is in the opposite direction you’re trying to go.”

- - -

Pavarotti nipped at the fingertips pressed against the birdcage as Kurt turned into his driveway. His first official meeting as a Warbler might not have gone as well as he would have hoped, nor had his first audition, but he impressed them? Don’t try so hard? All he had ever done was try hard, why should that be punished? Did he make it into the Warblers because he sang behind Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson in all those taped performances? There’s Kurt, he’s a team player.

He hadn’t let his emotions show at school, but the long drive home had incubated his harbored feelings of resentment. Anger bubbled underneath his pathetic attempts to sort himself out and salve the hurt and disappointment over losing another solo, again.

So when Kurt stormed into the Hummel home, he insisted he cooked that weekend. His father was in for a treat, because by the time Kurt felt better he was four courses deep into a gourmet heart-healthy dinner, as well as an alternative main course and dessert for Finn.

‘Can I help with something?’

Kurt glared at not-Blaine, “No. No you can’t.” He turned away so he could properly ignore the specter. 

‘Kurt, it’ll just take time to get used to Dalton. Give it a few weeks.’

Talking into the saute pan, Kurt continued frantically, “And after we lose at Sectionals I suppose they’ll let all of us sing solos and we’ll all have a grand old time debating the merits of six versus eight part harmonies.” His hand slipped, nearly brushing his wrist across the edge of the hot pan.

‘Be careful,’ not-Blaine whispered into his head, ‘You’re upset, that’s understandable, but you’re going to burn yourself if you’re not mindful what you’re doing.’ The ghost brushed Kurt’s shoulder before it turned the heat down on the stove.

“And I don’t know why you keep doing that. You shouldn’t be able to touch things, so just make yourself useful and... I don’t know,” He waved his hands dismissively, not bothering to look in the ghost’s direction.

He heard not-Blaine cluck indignantly, but shuffle away nonetheless. He glanced at the ghost, who stubbornly sat at the table and refused to comment further. Even his subconscious was giving him a hard time. “Blaine, don’t be like that,” he apologized with a tired sigh.

The ghost slowly turned his face towards Kurt and raised an eyebrow while keeping his expression level.

Kurt blushed a deep red as the hazel eyes bore into him. “I’m upset right now, but I’ll get over it,” Kurt lamented as he leaned back against the counter.

‘Kurt! Watch the pan!’

Burt knew better than to get in the way of his son, opting to idle in the living room with the television set at a volume that he could still hear Kurt muttering nonsense in in the kitchen, but enough was enough when he heard a crash and shortly thereafter Kurt curse loudly.

The teen had his hand under running water at the sink, looking utterly dejected as dark-haired boy overlooked Kurt’s shoulder inspecting the burn. 

“I’m fine,” Kurt said immediately as his father came into the room, 

Seeing Kurt and his imagination had his injury under control, Burt began to organize place settings at the table. “Who’s this?” he waved towards not-Blaine casually.

“That’s…” Kurt gulped. Not-Blaine exchanged a meaningful look with him before the ghost gave a disarming smile to the elder Hummel.  “Casper,” Kurt mumbled with embarrassment, “He’s a friend.”

“Casper?” Burt repeated.

Kurt rolled his eyes. He looked down to his fingers, red from the accident, but at least there weren’t any blisters so he didn’t need to get the first-aid kit. “The friendly ghost,” he explained, seriously wishing for a change in conversation.

“He uhhh… based on someone you know?” his father asked awkwardly.

“I told you, he’s a friend,” Kurt replied in a sing-song tone. Not-Blaine looked at him blankly, his expression unreadable, and almost… sad? The ghost vanished, disappearing in a burst of silvery sparkles. His father looked as though he wanted to say something further, so Kurt added dismissively, “The real one goes to Dalton with me.”

Burt shifted uneasily, “Alright… just… remember he’s… you know.”

“Not real. I know.”

“And you’re okay?” Burt asked, taking Kurt’s hands into his own.

“I’m fine Dad. Finn’s dessert won’t have the caramel sauce I was making, but there have been worse tragedies in our kitchen. I doubt he’ll even notice.”

Burt persisted, staring down at his son, “Kurt, you need to tell me if they’re going to be an issue. Finn said something about a McKinley student being arrested after having their Curse under wraps for years.” Kurt looked at him with alarm, worried for his friends in the Glee Club. “No one you knew,” Burt assured, “But still, the slightest slip-up in the wrong place... I just want to keep you safe.”

Kurt allowed Burt to hug him for a moment before he muttered softly, “Dinner is ready, and I think I could hear Finn’s stomach from upstairs.”

- - -

He went home before sectionals, promising to meet the Warblers at the auditorium an hour before competition time for warm ups. Kurt was surprised that Rachel and Mercedes didn’t have a last minute rehearsal for the New Directions, but he was thankful for the Friday night distraction to ease the nerves.

There was absolutely no talk of the next day except an obligatory good luck, break a leg exchanged early on. 

The two tried to catch Kurt up to the latest gossip, and he kept up best he could. It was more informative than Finn’s vague texts and bumbling speeches were. They were both strangely mum regarding who had solos for sectionals, even though they agreed not to discuss the competition, Kurt was amazed, amazed, at Rachel’s ability to not talk about her latest emotional solo.

He was surprised to see Blaine loitering between the sugar and the cinnamon, nursing a coffee mug of his own.

Mercedes followed Kurt’s gaze and turned back to Kurt with a wide smile. “Ohhh, Kurt,” she teased, “Gay, dark, and handsome.”

Rachel swooned, “It’s like he walked out of a Disney movie.”

“Shut up,” Kurt panicked when Blaine noticed them and began walking over. “Blaine? What are you doing here?” Kurt asked as Blaine sat in the seat beside him. Blaine raised his mug with a cheeky smile which sent Kurt into a flustered mess of right, of course.

“So Blaine Warbler,” Rachel grinned, “Tell us about yourself.”

The dark-haired Dalton student smiled bashfully, “First, that’s still not my name. Secondly... I don’t know... same as you I suppose.”

She tilted her head and her eyes glinted, “How’s that?”

His own eyes sparkled but he didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned into Kurt and said, “Better get going, big day tomorrow.” He turned his attention to Rachel and Mercedes, “Ladies, best of luck. I hope we all have a good time regardless of the outcome.” Blaine stood and clapped Kurt once on the shoulder, leaving him and the girls mystified as he walked out of the store.

“Does he normally drive all the way out here for coffee?” Mercedes asked dubiously, “Isn’t Dalton like two hours away?”

Kurt shrugged, “It’s not like Westerville is the moon. Besides, the Lima Bean is our favorite coffee place. He practically breathes caffeine at school.”

Rachel leaned into the table, lowering her voice to whisper suspiciously, “I couldn’t compel him at all, Kurt.” 

The chestnut-haired boy scoffed, “Of course not, he’s a telepath. And I thought you stopped that nonsense.”

“Well...” Rachel whistled, “For the most part. Just like my voice I still need to practice to be the best I can be. It’s harmless for little questions and commands.”

“We just wanted to get to know him a little better Kurt,” Mercedes agreed, “We’re looking out for you.”

Kurt sighed wistfully. “I miss you guys, more than you know.”

- - -

After all the congratulations and good jobs were out of the way, the Warblers filtered back into the green room for a post-competition news and notes meeting. It was short and to the point, the larger issues to be discussed later, but with their performances fresh in their minds it was nice to voice those moments that they could stand to improve.

It also helped Blaine to be away from the crowds. The Warblers he knew and could successfully filter out, but the large audience was hard for him to ignore. The two waved goodbye as the Warblers left, filtering back to the bus they had hired. Blaine was going to visit his parents for the rare weekend they were in town, and Kurt would drive home with his own family.

They hung back by the stage, watching the theatre empty. “So that was the infamous Rachel Berry,” Blaine said thoughtfully.

“She’s one of a kind,” Kurt hummed, “But she’s a good friend to have. They all are.”

Blaine stared at the stage. There was a nervous sway in his posture, and Kurt stepped beside him, steadying the dark-haired boy with his body and squeezing his hand encouragingly. “We have our work cut out for us.”

Kurt nodded in agreement.

- - -

Between Warbler practice and catching up with the Dalton curriculum, Kurt didn’t have much time to reflect much more on his disappointment in singing background for Sectionals. He felt bad about being too busy to spend much time with his McKinley friends who kept asking him to meet them at Breadstix or to come practice over a spare weekend, but even worse were the sad looks he got from Blaine every friday when he returned to Lima. It was going to be heartbreaking for the long winter break.

His schedule didn’t keep him from realizing that he was a little bit in love with Blaine.

He had realized that small fact a while ago, maybe even when they had first met, but he hadn’t acknowledged it consciously. Blaine, who was already rather scatterbrained to begin with, had grown increasingly obtuse in his interactions with Kurt. It only served to make him more adorable in Kurt’s mind. 

That was a sign Blaine liked him back, right? The stolen glances and blushing asides in between classes? He seriously needed some girl time with Mercedes and Rachel to figure it out.

At least he knew for certain his own feelings regarding the matter.

The flirty christmas duet helped too.

“I think you’re ready,” Kurt smiled.

Blaine stood up from the love seat and twirled to face Kurt. “Well, for the record,” Blaine replied, “You are much better than that girl’s gonna be.” The boy nodded to Shuester as he left with a spring in his step. 

Kurt and the glee director exchanged pleasantries and a hug.

Shuester gave Kurt a shrewd look, “Someone special?”

“No, just a friend,” Kurt replied with a giddy smile, “But on the up side, I’m in love with him and I think he likes me back? I call that progress.” Kurt led the director to the side table he had been studying at previously and motioned for him to take a seat. “What can I help you with Mister Shue?”

“I was in Columbus for a teacher in-service, I figured I’d drop in to say hello and see how you were doing.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Kurt replied politely.

“And checking out the competition is an added bonus,” Shuester teased, “You both sounded amazing just now.”

Kurt sighed fondly, nodding along. 

“The others miss you Kurt. Not just for target practice with their curses, but your voice too. I wish there was a way you could come back to McKinley,” Shuester lamented.

The teen shook his head, “Dalton is safer. I wish the others could come here instead. And I have Blaine... and the other Warblers too. They’re all really great guys, once you get to know them.”

“Still, for Christmas break,” the teacher smiled, “You’re formally invited to our Christmas party, and you’re welcome to bring a date if you so choose. I can’t promise Puck won’t set anything on fire this time, but I bought an extra extinguisher just in case.”

- - -

Frost crept across the windows of the Dalton campus, and the light flurry of snow across the lawn made the school seem a winter wonderland. Someone had tried to make a snowman in the morning, albeit on the smallish side. It cheerfully waved at the students with a smile made of sticks and eyes of acorns and festively adorned with a bright red bow-tie.

Kurt didn’t feel at all like the snowman out on the lawn. It might have been the Christmas holiday that brought about the passing melancholy, but something deeper in himself seemed more the cause. He really did love Dalton, but the break felt too much like goodbye.

“Can we talk?” Blaine couldn’t quite meet Kurt’s eyes, intensely studying his shoes which were damp and stained with road salt.

Kurt laughed, “What are we doing now?”

Blaine groaned playfully, finally looking up at Kurt. The older teen smiled triumphantly. “You know what I mean,” Blaine replied as he rolled his eyes playfully, “After our last class. I’ll swing by your room before you head back to Lima for break.”

“Don’t be late,” Kurt blushed.

“I won’t,” the dark-haired boy promised.

- - -

“So?” Kurt danced around Blaine as he came into his dorm room that afternoon.

“So...?” Blaine teased.

Kurt frowned at Blaine’s cheeky smile as he sat down on his bed with a huff. He gathered his books and notebooks from the day and organized them into a neat pile.

Blaine followed shortly after him, falling backwards onto Kurt’s bed, accidentally displacing the pile of books. Kurt sighed and redid the pile in annoyance.

“So?”

The other teen blinked up at Kurt, eyes wide and slightly watery. “I’m not quite sure what do say,” he mumbled.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, leaning over so that his face was directly above Blaine’s. “You were the one who wanted to talk.”

“I thought I would have this whole plan of what to say,” Blaine stammered, “Serenade you with a song or flowers or something... but I thought that maybe those were a bit too forward. But forward is good? Oh dammit, forward would have been good.” Blaine began to fidget on the bed, twisting the fabric of Kurt’s comforter nervously.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Kurt,” Blaine faltered. He gathered his courage and whispered into Kurt’s mind, ‘I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know what I’m doing. But want to say is... I’m going to miss you... a lot. Columbus is only two hours from Lima, but every mile, every inch, is one more than I want to spend away from you.’

The two were close, close enough that if he wanted, if Blaine wanted... 

Blaine tilted his head up to meet Kurt halfway. It was hesitant and wasn’t anything Kurt had imagined would be his and Blaine’s first kiss (he had imagined a fair few before this) but it was upside down and perfect, like romance comedy, chick-flick, fairytale perfect. It turned his world upside down.

The smaller teen had turned on his side, gasping for air before he grabbed Kurt’s shoulders to pull Kurt over him. Fingers raked through Blaine’s hair, frantic and desperate. The need to be closer overrode all other functions in Kurt’s brain, as though all there was was Blaine and Kurt needed more.

“Weren’t you wearing cologne today?” Kurt asked deliriously. Blaine shed his blazer and tie quickly all the while peppering Kurt’s face and neck with open kisses. Kurt’s hands grasped at the other boy’s dress shirt, moving under the fabric and gliding over the warmth of Blaine’s skin.

“You should know,” Blaine kissed his ear in response.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows together as Blaine continued to trail down Kurt’s neck to his collar bone. He struggled to catch his breath as Blaine seemed everywhere at once. “Blaine,” he protested, pressing his hands against Blaine’s sides, neither pulling the other teen closer or away.

“I thought this was what you wanted...” he whispered. Blaine’s hand ghosted over Kurt’s shoulders and down his biceps. “Hey... Kurt... look at me,” He brought a hand to Kurt’s chin and forced the blushing teen to look at him, “What’s wrong?”

Watery eyes matched gold, impossibly dark and bright at the same time. “I was starting to think you... us... wasn’t ever going to happen,” Kurt confessed.

Blaine silenced Kurt with a kiss.

But the silence made the knock at Kurt’s door all the louder.

‘Kurt?’

Blaine’s eyes darkened as he stared into Kurt’s.

“Kurt?”

“Just a second,” Kurt stammered. There was no hope in organizing the tangled sheets and books that seemed everywhere and his hair... Oh Gods, his hair! “Coming!” He futilely attempted to fix his tie as he crossed the room to the door, giving himself a second before greeting the newcomer.

Kurt opened the door and the happy, dizzy smiled on his face immediately fell. Blaine, on the other hand, lit up immensely at the sight of his friend, “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up with helping Nick and Jeff pack after history.”

A chill ran down Kurt’s spine and he shook his head emphatically. “No. No. No,” he turned quickly back into his room, unsurprisingly empty. “No!” Kurt shouted at the empty room.

“Kurt is everything okay?” Blaine asked tentatively.

Kurt shuddered. Everything that had happened was suddenly wrong and cruel and how did he let him delude himself in this? He had imagined all of it, the confession of love sealed with a kiss had only been wishful thinking on Kurt’s part.

“Get out!” Kurt shrieked, turning to Blaine so quickly he nearly lost his balance. “Go away, Blaine! Just... leave. Please.”

Blaine stared at him with an expression somewhere between confused and hurt.

The chestnut-haired teen gathered the displaced books into his arms, anything to cover himself, cover his embarrassment. “Please, I want you to go,” Kurt pleaded, feeling hot tears gather in his eyes.

Blaine remained frozen at the door, torn between honoring or ignoring Kurt’s request. “Kurt...”

“Go away,” Kurt repeated adamantly. 

The telepath reluctantly stepped back from the open door. “I’m sorry,” he said helplessly, “I... I guess I’ll see you after Christmas break.” Blaine held back for a moment with one last look at Kurt before shaking his head and leaving. 

Blaine’s footsteps echoed accusingly from the hallway, but Kurt was far too preoccupied with his own embarrassment to care. He’d care later. He dropped the books on his desk and sank to the floor. 

Blaine was... not Blaine. He made the whole thing up.

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