Hello everyone! It's been a while, more than a month. My most-important college apps and NaNoWriMo are finally over, so I'm back to writing fanfiction. I have to say, I really missed it. This chapter really just flowed for me. Once again, thank you for all your reviews and your favorites! Remember, all my updates will come on tumblr at flirtykurty, so check there too. I'll probably be posting my NaNoWriMo there eventually too. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: It's not true, so please don't sue. Katy Perry too.

When Blaine woke up, the side of the bed that he occupied was warm and comforting. He closed his eyes once more, trying to regain blissful, dreamless sleep. In doing so, he turned over slightly and his arm brushed over the opposite side of the sheets.

They were cold.

His eyes snapped open and he bolted upwards. He frantically looked around the room, throwing the sheets and the duvet cover off of himself.

Kurt was gone.

How stupid he was.

Blaine didn't realize what the shooting pain in his head was until he realized had tangled his hands in his curls, yanking hard. He was breathing hard and heavy, and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the panic take over his chest and his mind.

He'd been abandoned again.

"Blaine, do you drink skim or 2%? I bought both just in case."

Looking upwards, Blaine saw Kurt in the doorway, holding two cartons of milk, one green and one blue. The slender man raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you want breakfast? You've slept in, you know." Kurt gathered both cartons in his arms and fished his phone out of his pocket. "It's nearly ten."

"I didn't realize," Blaine said quietly, and Kurt smirked, shoving his phone away.

"Obviously. Now, we have to talk about something," Kurt said gravely. "I found Captain Crunch in your cabinet, and you must know how much sugar is in that. It's just awful. I bought organic granola, it's much better for you..."

"I like Captain Crunch," replied Blaine defensively, shrinking back at the reproving look Kurt gave him. Kurt's gaze softened and he laughed, a lovely, musical sound.

"Fine. Have your Captain Crunch."

Kurt walked out of Blaine's bedroom, leaving Blaine sitting there in warm silence.

When he came out to the kitchen, Blaine found Kurt sitting down, drinking coffee and scrolling through his tablet, scrunching up his nose occasionally.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked. Kurt held up the tablet and waved it slightly.

"I'm checking how many calories you've taken in over the past few years. You're going to die of heart disease if you don't clean up your act, young man." Blaine scoffed and Kurt rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you're worse than my dad. I have to fight him to buy the veggie wrap instead of the hamburger every time, and that's after he had a heart attack. You'd think he'd have a bit better sense." Kurt took a long pull from his coffee and winced. "Ugh. Starbucks later?"

"How are you so awake in the morning?" He slumped into a chair, and Kurt pushed a bowl full of Captain Crunch to him.

"You have to eat. I'm not letting you fall into shock or anything," Kurt scolded, and waggled a finger at him. "No relapses."

Blaine ducked his head meekly at this and took the milk from the center of the table and splashed his cereal with it.

They were in silence for a moment, Blaine sleepily chewing on the cereal and Kurt occasionally tapping upon his tablet to open up a new link. Blaine looked up at the pale man.

He wished he knew how he was so comfortable around Kurt. He had felt uneasy around men since junior high. He felt blackened panic creep up his spine but he silenced it by focusing hard upon his breathing.

"Blaine, there's something we need to talk about."

Blaine looked up at him, swallowing hard, squashing his attack. He nodded warily. Kurt sighed and pressed the power button in the tablet, the image immediately fading to black.

"Do you think I should quit my job for Dr. Krugman?" Kurt asked, tone serious, and Blaine's eyebrows shot up. Blaine pursed his lips and looked down to his cereal, no longer hungry.

"Do you need the money?" he asked, his voice small, and he heard Kurt's chair shifting.
"I do," came his answer, and Blaine shrunk further. "Blaine, look at me."

After a moment, Blaine did, and he saw Kurt's blue eyes looking at him with concern. The man seemed to be struggling with his words.

"I do need the money," he began carefully. "But I can't say that I agree with her methods."

"You followed along with them," Blaine pointed out, and Kurt flinched. Blaine immediately felt guilty, remembering how he'd said that he wanted to 'put it all behind them.' Kurt nodded slowly before Blaine could stumble over a retraction.

"That's true," Kurt said softly. "But that doesn't mean I agreed with them, right?"

"I suppose."

"I think I'm going to quit anyways." Kurt looked down at his nails and Blaine followed his gaze. They were immaculately groomed, much like the rest of Kurt. "Besides, I just took the job because I was living in L.A., and it was one of the best-paying jobs I could get on short notice."

"What will you do next?" questioned Blaine, stirring his spoon in the bowl. Kurt shot him a wide grin, and Blaine felt his heart stutter.

"Well, you know, I've got a lot of fashion connections around here," Kurt said, shrugging a shoulder. "I never wanted to be a receptionist. I was interning."

"I know, I looked you up," Blaine admitted and Kurt nodded, a hint of a smile still tugging at his lips.

"I was wondering how you found out," Kurt said honestly, and he drained the last of his coffee. He made a face. "I'm awful at making coffee."

"Are you going to intern?"

"Probably. I have a friend at Monique Lhuillier who can probably can get me in," Kurt said flippantly, and Blaine tilted his head at him. "She does bridal, mostly."

"Do you like weddings?"

"I don't," Kurt said shortly, his expression closed off, and Blaine scrunched his thick brows at him. Then, all at once, Kurt's eyes lit up and the grin that graced his face was breathtaking. Blaine had to physically sit back to not be blinded by the glory of it. "I love weddings."

"Then you should do that," Blaine said quietly, and Kurt smiled at him, settling his cheek on his hand.

"I think I will. But, you know, Blaine, I want to know about you." Kurt's thumb was very distracting, with the way it was lightly stroking the side of his own jaw. Blaine felt like a cartoon with how audible his gulps were becoming. "You already know about what I love. Baking, my family, fashion... talking." Blaine chuckled, and Kurt's grin grew wider. "And I know I get carried away with myself sometimes. So, Blaine. Your job at the newspaper." Immediately, Blaine felt himself seize slightly and the smile fell from his face. Kurt sat up straighter and looked at him strangely. "OK, there's a story."

"I don't want to talk about it," Blaine said, voice minuscule, and Kurt shook his head. "Kurt, please."

"Let's play a game," Kurt said abruptly. Blaine was going to get whiplash with how quickly this man changed subjects. "I'm serious. Coffee first, but let's play a game while we go."

Kurt stood quickly and went to the coat rack to retrieve a grey peacoat that he must have brought from his apartment. The idea of Kurt sneaking out of Blaine's apartment, only to bring back groceries and clothes, was so domestic and familial it made Blaine's heart hurt.

He quickly followed him, pulling on his fleece pullover that he knew Kurt was going to scrunch up his nose at. He did.

"Why did you move to California?"

The game had been simple. Kurt would ask a question for every question that Blaine asked him, tit for tat. Blaine didn't exactly like the game, because it was quickly becoming evident that Kurt was pretty willing to tell Blaine the answer to every question to Blaine's questions.

"I needed a change of pace," Blaine said, clutching at his coffee, his cold fingers warming instantly. He hadn't been to a Starbucks in ages. "I was really tired of my - of everyone knowing about me."

"Knowing what about you?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt, who groaned loudly. "Ugh, you're so dodgy with your answers. I can't ask anything and get a good answer."

"You never said I had to elaborate," defended Blaine, taking a long draw from his cup. "It's my turn."

"Yes, it is."

"How was high school for you?"

Kurt immediately closed off, his eyes growing dark and his lips pressing together tightly. Blaine knew he hit the jackpot. Kurt looked down at his hands, a move that Blaine knew was deflection. He pulled that all the time.

"Kurt?"

"High school was awful. My turn."

"Kurt."

"It's my turn, Blaine. How was high school for you?" Kurt bit out, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Blaine. That struck Blaine silent, and Kurt looked away, ashamed. "I - that was rude. You don't have to answer that. We don't have to play any more."

"Kurt, calm down," Blaine said, marveling at his ability to soothe instead of being soothed. Kurt bit his lip deeply, his white teeth pressing into his full lip, making an involuntary shiver run up Blaine's spine. "Tell me one thing about high school."

"I had nobody," Kurt whispered. "Nobody. Not even my own stepbrother. And when you're a fag in Homophobia, Ohio, there's not a lot of chances to find someone."

Blaine inhaled sharply at that, feeling empathy rush through him. He knew exactly how that felt.
"If it helps," Blaine replied, just as quietly. "I didn't have anyone either."

Kurt was silent for a moment, pressing a clenched fist to his lips, his eyes lost, somewhere, years away, somewhere Blaine could never reach him. He turned back, his eyes just a shade brighter than normal.

"It's a good thing that we have each other now though, right?" Kurt said, sounding tiny and weak, which were two adjectives Blaine would never associate with the man before him. He processed Kurt's words and felt his throat grow sticky and thick.

"It's a great thing that we have each other now, Kurt," Blaine answered, putting his hand forward on the table, looking at Kurt desperately, trying to communicate just how much he needed Kurt, just how much he loved - having Kurt around.

He wasn't ready for that thought to complete itself just yet. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready.

All he knew was that his hand was so much warmer when it was encased in Kurt's.

"I work at the newspaper because it's a job where I don't have to talk to anybody face to face," Blaine blurted, and Kurt looked at him, surprised at his answer. "I hate that."

"I hate that too," Kurt said quietly, and Blaine winced, but Kurt shook his head. "No, I hate that you have that fear."

"I don't want to," Blaine said, sighing. "You and N-Nora are the only ones I can talk to. I don't like it, but that's the way it is."

"That's not how it'll always be," said Kurt definitively, and Blaine chuckled softly. "It isn't. Have a bit of faith in yourself Blaine. Have a bit of courage."

Blaine kept watching their hands, Kurt's on top of his own, that distracting thumb now rubbing gently upon the juncture of where his index finger's knuckle met the back of his hand. He let himself be pacified by the motion, and he let himself believe in the crazy notions that Kurt thought.

"If you could be anything in the world," Kurt began slowly, drawing each word out. "If you could make money doing anything, that is... what would you want to be doing right now?"

"Ideally spending time with you," Blaine replied, and Kurt rolled his eyes, but a traitorous grin crept upon his face.

"A career, Blaine."

"I don't know." Kurt frowned at that. "I really don't. Anything to get me along, I guess."

"You don't like writing?"

"I'm good at it, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it that much."

Kurt's frown deepened, and Blaine was about to say something when Kurt stood, pulling Blaine up with him by the hand. His eyes held a strong determination, and Blaine was mildly intimidated by it. He only realized that he was still holding the paper cup in his hand when Kurt wrenched it from him and set it upon the table.

Kurt grasped at Blaine's shoulder and looked towards him, deeply gazing into his eyes. "You listen to me, Blaine Westwood Anderson," Kurt said lowly. It wasn't like anything Blaine had heard out of Kurt before, and made him shiver a bit. "And you listen close. We're going to find you a passion, something you love. And you're going to make money doing it."

"That's not dirty, is it?" Blaine joked weakly. Kurt sighed.

"That's it, that's absolutely it."

Before Blaine could react, Kurt's arms were wrapped around him tightly, his chest pressed to his, and Blaine was frozen. Kurt didn't let up at all, and Blaine could almost feel Kurt's scent seeping into his own, and he relaxed slightly, letting his stiff limbs rise slightly to circle Kurt's waist.

"Thank you," Blaine said awkwardly, but Kurt didn't let go.

"You don't thank me for this," Kurt said adamantly into his shoulder. He pulled back slightly, his arms still around Blaine's neck. "Everyone should have someone to help in their darkest times. I've been there and I know that it sucks, so I'm here for you now."

This time, Blaine pulled Kurt back, embracing him tightly so that Kurt couldn't see the tears shining in his eyes. Kurt chuckled, the sound slightly watery.

"Come on."

Kurt pulled away, and clutched at Blaine's hand. It felt like warmth was exploding from every bit of him, as though Kurt was simply radiating compassion and Blaine was accepting it greedily.

"Let's go quit our jobs and stop emotionally hugging in the middle of a coffee shop."

Blaine began to guffaw, a terrible, guttural noise, but it was freeing and lovely.

Someone had finally found him.

"Don't come back for me, don't come back at all! Who do you think you are?"

Blaine laughed at Kurt, who threw his unoccupied hand out grandly, gesturing to the cloudy sky. "Bravo. Wonderful rendition."

"My vibrato is weak now," Kurt harrumphed. "I haven't sung like that in years."

"Your singing is lovely," Blaine said honestly, and he knew that the red tinge on Kurt's cheeks couldn't just be from the nip of the air. "I mean it. You have one of the most heartbreaking voices I've ever heard."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Kurt sniffed, an enormous smile on his face, glowing with pride. "Do you sing?"

"Oh, God, no," Blaine said, laughing. "No, I cannot sing."

"Everyone can sing," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "It's just a matter of whether or not you should sing. I want to hear you sing."

"No, you don't," Blaine said, glancing to their joined hands where Kurt was swinging them softly.

"I really do. Here, we could sing together, and you could just listen to me sing," Kurt offered. "Any song in particular?"

"I don't know much music, Kurt..."

"Oh, God, I'll educate you," Kurt said, flapping his hand at him. "Let's just sing together, all right?"

"Sure," Blaine allowed, and Kurt beamed at him. Kurt rubbed at his chin absently, pooching his lips out a bit. "What's that?"

"What to sing..." Kurt said quietly. "Something you'll know. Oh, I've got it. Everyone knows this one." Kurt inhaled deeply before beginning to sing. "You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on. You think I'm funny, when I tell the punch line wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down. Do-o-own!"

Blaine grinned widely as Kurt lost himself in Katy Perry, in a song that Blaine hadn't heard since his junior year in high school. Kurt continued, his voice rising in volume.

"Before you met me, I wasn't right. Things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life, now, every February, you'll be my valentine, valentine!"

Kurt kept singing, his voice gorgeous and perfectly in pitch no matter how Kurt complained. Suddenly Blaine found himself joining in.

"You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on! I can't sleep, let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back!" they sang together, Kurt's eyes widening as he watched Blaine begin to sing. Blaine lost himself in the harmony of their voices together, meshing effortlessly.

"My heart stops when you look at me! Just one touch, now baby I believe, this is real. Now, take a chance, don't ever look back, don't ever look back!"

Blaine realized that his voice was alone then, and he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to gaze at his duet partner, whose eyes were shining and excited.

"You're wonderful!" Kurt said, in awe. "I'm sorry, where did that come from?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine stuttered, blushing violently, and Kurt shook his head quickly.

"That was incredible. Why haven't we sung together before?" Kurt asked urgently, and Blaine laughed nervously. Kurt bumped him gently on the shoulder. "We should do this more often. Make it regular thing."

Blaine loved regular things.

"I'm down," Blaine said, perhaps a bit too readily, and Kurt's grin was just as beautiful as it always was. He never showed his teeth but this one reached his eyes, making them just a touch more vibrant.

"I'm down too," Kurt said, his tone mocking, but Blaine hadn't heard anything more fantastic in his life.