Blaine couldn't tell one way or the other if the rest of the glee club remembered or was aware of what had happened at Rachel’s party after he and Kurt had taken the stage together. He wasn’t sure if the glances he got were just because of him making a general fool of himself at the party or because of their duet. At that point, he didn’t think that his duet with Santana had helped matters, even though it had happened first.

Kurt seemed nervous, though obviously less so when Brittany was around. There was that reassurance of protection, again, and Blaine knew he himself breathed a little easier when he had Santana. There was something intensely grounding of having her hand in his. She was like a shield being held in front of him to protect him from looks, words, anything that could possibly be thrown his way.

Puck was the only one who really unnerved him, but then again maybe it was because he was the only one who actually came right up to him. It was almost like an ambush, there at his locker toward the end of the day, when a hand clapped down on his shoulder and made him jump as his head whipped up to see who it was. “Puck! You scared me, man.”

“Sorry bro,” he offered with an unapologetic shrug, and Blaine shoved his books in his locker as he tried to get his heart to stop racing quite so fast. “So, fun party, yeah?”

“Yes, it was fun,” Blaine agreed with a nod, pausing before shifting his messenger bag up onto his shoulder and shutting the door to his locker. “I’ve never really done anything like that before. It was cool to get to hang out with everybody outside of all this, you know?” He gestured around the hallway, meaning school in general, and he was certain Puck knew what he meant.

“Yeah, it was kind of eye opening,” Puck said, leaning up against the wall and glancing around at the people passing them in the hall before turning his gaze back onto Blaine. “Got to see all kinds of sides to people that I didn’t know were there. True colors, all that.”

“Alcohol kind of makes people a little crazy,” Blaine said carefully, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Santana usually came from around that time to meet up with him before glee club. There was the familiar swish of red that came with the skirt of her cheerleading uniform, and he held onto the strap of his bag tightly, waiting and hoping she didn’t get sidetracked. “My parents weren’t too thrilled, but it didn’t end up too badly.”

“I saw Mike took you home.”

“He did, that was good,” he said with a nod, reaching out and grabbing Santana’s hand when she got close enough. “He’s a good guy.”

“Who’s a good guy?” Santana asked, lacing her fingers with his and smacking Puck in the chest with her free hand. “Not this one, clearly.”

“Mike,” Blaine clarified, brushing a light kiss against her temple.

“Oh yes, Mike’s good.” She nodded and tugged on his hand. “Come on, glee time.” Blaine gave Puck a shrug and turned to head down the hall with her, letting out a breath as they turned the corner. “What?”

“Just… something Puck said,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Makes me kind of worried.”

“Puck’s an idiot,” she said quickly, looking up at him. “I’m sure he doesn’t, um, know anything. He was drunk, don’t worry about it.”

Blaine wasn’t sure how much she believed of what she was saying and how much she was saying to try and make him feel better, but it didn’t matter. They slid into their usual seats in the choir room and he rubbed at the back of her hand with his thumb, needing some outlet for his nerves. She crossed her legs toward him, leaning in and pressing against his side as the rest of the glee club trickled in until just before the bell rang and they were all there.

“I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving break, but we need to get right back into the swing of things,” Mr. Schue announced as he came into the room and nudged the door closed behind him. “I know we’ve focused a lot on different messages, different themes, but this week we’re going to do something a little different. We’ve been focused too much on the individual, but this is a group. We all need to learn to work together, to trust each other, and that all starts on a one-on-one basis.”

“Mr. Schue,” Rachel interrupted, her hand shooting into the air. “I think you’ll find that we trust each other, though should we not I could almost guarantee there would be a very good explanation—”

“Trusting each other as friends, as classmates, that’s not the same as trusting each other as partners,” he replied easily, and Rachel dropped her hand down into her lap. “That’s why we’re going to be doing duets this week, and you’re not choosing your own partners.”

“Then who is?” Finn asked, his brow furrowing.

“Fate.” Mr. Schue pulled a hat out from behind his back and held it down so they could see all the slips of paper inside. “I’ll draw out names and you’ll be paired off that way. No arguments about partners – if you get paired with someone you wouldn’t normally want to sing with, well that’s the whole point here. Stretch outside your comfort zone and own it.”

Names were pulled out of the hat one at a time, paired off in the order they were called. Brittany was going to sing with Tina – both girls made noises of excitement, Mercedes with Artie – high fives were exchanged, Sugar and Sam – she squealed and he gave a slight nod, Quinn with Mike – shrugs and smiles from both of them, Rachel with Puck – “Jew power,” exclaimed Puck as he pumped his fist into the air, and Rachel just looked appalled. Blaine’s grip on Santana’s hand tightened as each name was called, a pit forming in his stomach as each duo was paired off and his name wasn’t involved in any of them. Neither was she, so maybe they’d luck out.

“Finn and…” Mr. Shue grabbed out a second piece of paper and unfolded it one-handed. “Santana!”

Blaine was starting to feel like he had absolutely no luck left in his life at all.

“Who does that leave? Kurt and Blaine? So you two will be paired up, too.” All the slips of paper were scooped back into the hat and then tossed into the trash can.

“Well, we all know they get along just fine,” Puck noted from his seat in the back row, and Blaine tightened his grip on Santana’s hand.

“Wait, I have to sing with Lurch?” Santana asked, feigning outrage. “Assuming he doesn’t eat me before we have to perform, that is. This is highly unfair.”

“Santana, I said no arguments about partners,” Mr. Schue said, giving her a look. “Now I want you all to spend the rest of rehearsal figuring out what you’re going to sing together. Performances will be Friday, and you can sing whatever you want as long as both people sing an equal amount.”

Blaine gave Santana’s hand one last squeeze before she pulled away, rolling her eyes at him and starting over toward Finn. Everyone was splitting off from the regular chairs in rows, finding spots around the room to sit in pairs and discuss what to do. He took a second to fiddle with his bag before realizing that avoiding looking at Kurt might make things worse than just doing what they were supposed to do. Glancing up at the back row, he saw Kurt putting his phone into his bag. Their eyes met and Kurt jerked his head up slightly, indicating that Blaine should join him since everyone else had left that area.

Climbing up the risers, Blaine settled into the chair beside Kurt, leaning back against it and pulling his legs up to sit with them criss-cross. He pulled his notebook out of his bag and flipped open to a blank page, writing ‘DUETS’ at the top in big block letters and then glancing over to quirk an eyebrow at Kurt. “Shall we?”

“I think should listen, see if anything strikes us,” Kurt replied, holding up his iPod and headphones, offering one of the earbuds to Blaine. He nodded, taking it and tucking it into his ear, watching as Kurt scrolled through his playlists and chose one. The music played softly, or maybe it was just because he only had it playing into one ear that it seemed quiet, and he tilted his head as he heard the familiar sounds of The Beatles. His attention got pulled away from the music as he felt pressure against the notebook and he looked down to see Kurt writing on it.

Hi.

Hi.

I don’t actually think we should sing any of these songs, I just figured we should look like we’re working.

Good plan. I think Puck suspects something. He was talking to me before we came in here, and the stuff he was saying – and then what he said when we got paired together…

Yeah, I caught what he said. Mike told him to shut up, but he was really quiet about it.

Mike is quickly becoming my favorite person. Well, other than you.

Likewise. I wouldn’t tell Santana that, if I were you. Anyway. This whole duet thing, I think we should do something pissy.

What do you mean?

Something to make people think we don’t like each other, as opposed to a reprise of Animal.

You’re full of good plans today. So, an angsty duet. I can do that.

Alright, let’s think of some angry songs. Ready… go!

By the time the bell rang to signify the end of the school day, Kurt and Blaine had come up with a good list of songs – though how many of them would translate well into duets, or be at all appropriate to sing at school, was another story. It was a good start, at least, and Blaine shoved his notebook deep into his bag before getting up to leave. He knew he had to go straight home after school, as terms of his being grounded, but he reveled in the fact that he was going to have to do actual school work with Kurt and therefore his mom rightfully couldn’t keep him from being around Kurt outside of school.

“Hey Blaine!” He turned partway through the parking lot, hugging his coat in closer as he saw Mike jogging over his direction.

“Mike, hi,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Hey, um, thanks again for taking me home Friday night. I didn’t mean to get like that, but, um, it happened. So thanks.”

“No problem,” Mike said with a shrug, glancing past him. “You got your car back, that’s good.”

“Mhm, Saturday,” he nodded, looking up at him. “Did you want something? I’m not – not to be rude, just you were coming after me so I figured—”

“Oh, yeah,” Mike started, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing to the side as if to check to see if anyone was nearby. Blaine took a small step back, a pit forming in his stomach. That was kind of the same way Puck had looked around before talking to him in the hall, and even though it was Mike and as far as Blaine could tell, he was nice, it still made him nervous. “I just wanted to say, don’t let Puck or anybody else get to you.”

“What?”

“He says some stuff that he shouldn’t and you shouldn’t let it get to you,” Mike continued, reaching over and patting his arm lightly. “You’re a good person, and I’ve known Kurt since kindergarten and I can’t remember the last time he seemed as much like himself than lately when you’ve been around.” He’d said the last part so quietly that Blaine thought he’d imagined it, but that didn’t stop the color from draining from his face.

“Mike, I—it’s not—” he stammered, shaking his head. “I can’t talk about this.”

“I didn’t mean to say something wrong,” Mike said, holding up his hands in surrender, his eyes wide. “You’re a good friend,” he stressed the word meaningfully, but they both knew he knew better than that, “that’s what I meant.”

“I try to be,” Blaine said, fidgeting with his keys in his pocket. “I have to go, or I’ll get grounded even worse than I already am.”

“Right. I’ll see you later, Blaine.” Mike gave him a little wave before backing away, then turning and heading over for his own car.

Blaine got into his car and out of the parking lot as quickly as possible, his heart racing a little as he headed toward home. Mike was nice, and Blaine was sure he meant well, but that didn’t stop it from being terrifying that there was someone out there that knew. It wasn’t so much that he was scared for himself, it was because he knew what that meant for Kurt, for Santana.  He got home in record time and went straight up to his room, burying himself in his homework and planning to talk to his mom later about Kurt having to come over – for school stuff, so it’s not like she could really argue about that, right? – despite the terms of his punishment.

                                                                            ***

As it turned out, Blaine’s mom was less than thrilled about him having Kurt over. It may have been for school, but considering that the only things she’d really banned him from doing was having friends over and going out, it seemed to her like he was finding ways to get around his punishment. It had taken a bit of convincing for her to believe that it truly wasn’t his fault – how could it be when Mr. Schuester had pulled names out of a hat to pair people off – and that he really wasn’t trying to go against her on purpose.

“Fine, but you’re going to work on your project in the front room – no running off up to your bedroom, you hear me? Kurt can come over straight after school but he’ll need to leave before dinner.”

Just like that, they gained several hours a day that week to spend together. Blaine definitely wasn’t about to complain about the terms of it with his mom, because it really didn’t matter. So maybe his parents were aware that there was something else going on between him and Kurt – they weren’t stupid, after all – but it wasn’t like they were doing anything bad on the days when they shut themselves away in his room for hours on end. Spending that time in the front room, under the slightly attentive eyes of his mother, wasn’t that big a deal.

As it turned out, coming up with an angry song to sing to each other was difficult. There were plenty of songs to choose from, but the great majority of them were clearly about hurt and heartbreak. They didn’t exactly want to throw fuel on the fire by singing something that could be construed like that. Hours were spent in front of Blaine’s laptop, headphones shared between them as they listened to anything they could think of that might work. Conventional choices were thrown out the window and they moved on to the more abstract.

It took them several hours one afternoon, thanks to Blaine’s dad staying late at work which gave them more time before dinner, to come up with a song choice and start splitting the lyrics between them. Kurt said he would get word to the band the next morning so they could start working on the instrumentals – and Blaine was still kind of in awe of how they always picked up on everything so quickly. A lot of the time he felt bad, because Mr. Schue was constantly changing what they were singing and they were having to learn new music for it all, but they never really seemed to mind – just shrugged it off and said it was good practice for sight reading.

Friday came quickly, though Blaine had kept his distance from Kurt at school through the whole week. The only time he really talked to him was during glee club, when they were working on their assignment. They sat beside each other in the choir room, writing back and forth on his notebook just like they had that first day, and quietly hummed and sang to themselves when it wasn’t their turn to go into the auditorium and run through their song with the band.

Mike hadn’t tried to talk to him again, which made him slightly sad because he liked Mike, but in the end he figured that might have been for the best, all things considered. Puck continued to unnerve him with little looks or words. Blaine was glad he and Kurt had come up with their plan – whether it would work or not, it made him feel like he had some peace of mind.

Everyone in the glee club seemed to be thrumming with energy when the bell rang on Friday to start the period. It might have been because it was Friday and it was the last class of the day, or it was because they were excited to perform what they’d been working on all week, or maybe a little bit of both. Blaine just sat back in his chair, arms crossed across his stomach, barely paying attention to Santana as she danced her fingertips across his shoulders and rested her arm across the back of his chair.

“You okay?” Santana asked in a whisper, and he nodded. “You seem tense.”

“It’s nothing, just… getting into character,” Blaine murmured, tilting his head to look at her. The corners of her mouth quirked up with a smirk, and she gave a slight nod.

“Alright, so who wants to go first?” Mr. Schue asked, glancing out at all his students.

Santana’s hand shot up first, as she was obviously eager to get it over with. Blaine knew she loved performing, loved singing and dancing, but didn’t get along with Finn. From what he could tell, they just plain butted heads. It was quickly evident that they had managed to get along well enough to get their song done, though, and he couldn’t help but grin a little as he watched them perform. "Tyre Tracks and Broken Hearts" didn’t strike him as a Finn choice, but it suited Santana perfectly.

Brittany and Tina went after them, and Blaine couldn’t really remember the last time that he heard Tina sing outside of the group, but she and Brittany seriously killed "Me Against the Music". He knew that Brittany loved herself some Britney Spears, and he was almost certain the song had been her idea, but Tina seemed to have as much fun with it as she did. Sugar and Sam seemed less involved in the performance aspect and much more into just plain having fun as they sang "Grace Kelly," but it suited them.

“Mr. Schue? I’d like to go next,” Kurt said briskly, his hand in the air as soon as Sam had slid back into his seat. Blaine waited for the nod from their teacher, and for Kurt to brush past him on his way down from the back row, before he stood up and rubbed the back of his neck as he moved to stand over by the piano. It was difficult to seem mad at Kurt, something that Blaine had done so easily just months prior. He was just glad that they were both pretty good actors.

“My mother spent ten years sitting by a window, scared if she spoke she would die of a heart attack,” Blaine started singing, his voice on edge and his eyes cast down to the floor in front of them. “She listened as her dreams silently screamed, they drowned like little dolphins caught in a fishnet.” His gaze flickered up to his classmates sitting there in front of him, barely focusing on Santana for a second before looking further up. “Dear world I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Hey everybody when you walk the walk you gotta back it all up, can you talk the talk?” Kurt cut in sharply, and Blaine glanced over at him with slightly narrowed eyes. “Hey everybody when I hear the knock, don’t wanna measure out my life to the tick of a clock.”

“Hey everybody when my daddy died, he had a sad, sad story living in his eyes. Hey everybody when you walk the walk you cannot measure out your life to the tick of a clock. I wanna walk to the beat of my own drum,” Blaine broke out, the words sounding clarifying and clear as he heard a light scoff come from Kurt. It was almost impossible not to grin at him, but he managed. He thought about boxing, thought about how much aggravation he’d felt caused by Kurt when he first transferred there. “I wanna walk to the beat of my own drum…”

They traded off verses, lines during the chorus, and the tension in the room was almost palpable. Blaine could feel it, how uncomfortable they were to watch, and he would have felt bad except that meant that they were doing something right. He could spit out lyrics with the best of them, and he did just that as he stood face to face with Kurt – and Kurt was practically snarling line right back at him. By the time they got to the end, Blaine couldn’t do much but stand there and take in a deep, shaky breath.

Not looking at anyone, he moved back to his seat and plopped down, leaning back and setting his jaw. Santana didn’t look but reached over, resting her hand palm up on top of his leg, and he took it gratefully. There was that silence again, much like the one that had happened the week before, after they had sung at the party – no one moving or talking or doing anything. Except then Mr. Schue cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable quiet.

“Thank you, Kurt and Blaine, for that interesting choice,” he said, getting up from his seat and looking over at all of them sitting there. “Who would like to go next? Mercedes, Artie, why don’t you go on up and show us what you’ve got.”

Blaine barely paid attention to what Mercedes and Artie sang, or what Mike and Quinn did when it was their turn to go. Pretending to be mad was almost more exhausting and draining than actually being mad. He kept ahold of Santana’s hand until the bell rang and they were released, then let go so he could grab his bag and leave the room quickly. It reminded him how he'd felt at the beginning of the school year, when he’d practically bolted out of there because he couldn’t stand to be around Brittany and Kurt. He headed straight for the parking lot, needing to head right home to avoid getting in trouble.

He made it to the doors leading outside before he felt a hand grip his arm, and he turned to see Brittany. She opened her mouth to say something, but only managed a whimper, and he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Seeing Brittany sad was like seeing a kitten get kicked.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you?” Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, and her hold on his arm tightened. “Can we talk?”

“Hang on a second,” he mumbled, grabbing his phone and sending his mom a quick text saying that one of his teachers had asked him to stay to talk about an upcoming paper. It was a reasonable enough excuse to buy some time. “Want me to drive you home?”

Brittany nodded and her fingers kept ahold of his coat as they walked wordlessly out to to his car, and he felt his phone buzz in his pocket with what was most likely a response from his mom, but he didn’t bother checking as he turned the heat on full blast and pulled out and onto the street. He glanced over at Brittany as he remembered his way through the streets to her house, and he reached over to take one of her hands when he saw how deeply she was frowning.

They made it up to her room without any words passing between them, and she looked downtrodden as she pulled him into a hug and burrowed her face against his shoulder. “Brittany…”

“I can’t believe you and Kurt are fighting,” she whispered, her hands running over his back. “What happened? He didn’t say anything and I didn’t know and I thought you guys were happy…”

“Oh Brittany, we’re not fighting,” Blaine said, leaning back so he could look at her. “I promise.”

“But your song,” she replied, swallowing hard as their eyes met. “You were so unhappy. Angry.”

“Let’s sit down, okay? That’ll be more comfortable than just standing here.” He set his coat and bag by the door, watching as she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto her bed, grabbing an oversized plush rabbit and clutching it to her chest. He carefully slipped his shoes off before sitting beside her.

“What happened?” Brittany sniffled, resting her chin on top of the rabbit’s head.

“We just wanted people to think we weren’t friends anymore,” Blaine said after a moment, taking one of her hands and squeezing it lightly. “After the party, it felt like maybe some people were starting to figure it out. Figure us out. And then we got paired up together and, well, I felt a little panicked by it and we decided to sing something to try and make everyone think we didn’t like each other anymore – not even as friends.”

“Oh…”

“Not you,” he clarified. “We weren’t trying to make you think that. I’m sorry we did, I guess we weren’t thinking…” He really should have learned after the first time he’d done something that had unintentionally made Brittany upset, but he hadn’t. Kurt hadn’t thought about telling her either, or Santana – but she tended to see through most things without questioning them. “I’m so sorry Brittany, we should have said something, I never meant to upset you.”

“I was just so sad cause I thought…” she shook her head, rubbing her face against the rabbit’s ears. “You and Kurt are so pretty and perfect and I never wanted to see you guys like that. I like it when you’re happy.”

“It was just pretend,” Blaine said, reaching over to tuck a stray bit of her hair behind her ear. “Just like Santana being my girlfriend, and you being Kurt’s boyfriend. It’s all one big game of pretend.”

“I know you’re not my pretend boyfriend, but will you hug me anyway?” Brittany asked, blinking owlishly at him as she set her stuffed animal to the side.

“Always.”

That was how they ended up cuddling there on Brittany’s bed, with her spooned back against his chest and her giant cat curled up down by their feet. Physical affection was the one surefire way to calm her, to help her fade out of that sadness and back into the brightness that her life usually was. He’d learned that from Santana – she’d told him early on about how much even just the smallest hug or hand hold could turn a dreary day sunny in Brittany’s eyes, which is why she was almost always touching someone in the slightest way.

“Brittany!” Santana’s voice rang up the staircase and a door slammed on the lower floor. Blaine wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more happy to hear her, because he knew he had to leave – there was only so much time he could blame on a teacher keeping him late. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and down the hall toward them. “Brit, you ran off and then Coach Sylvester stopped me before – oh.”

Santana stopped in the doorway, staring down at them.

“It’s okay, they’re not actually mad,” Brittany said sleepily, motioning for her to come join them.

“I have to go,” Blaine said, untangling his arms from around her and shifting up off the bed as Santana kicked her shoes off. “Still grounded. Plus, I wouldn’t want to intrude on – well, whatever may happen here.” He gestured over the bed and Santana smirked at him. “Carry on.” He offered them a grin and a wink before grabbing his shoes, coat, and bag and heading out to the landing to get it all put back together again.

His mom didn’t say much when he got home, but at least she didn’t complain about him being late. Even if she had, he knew he’d done the right thing. If the texts from Kurt, the ones that weren’t him being concerned about Brittany, were anything to go by, they had been convincing. Blaine couldn’t wait to not be grounded any longer, so they could celebrate accordingly.