*So, this is late. I'm so sorry. I'm tied up in a legal battle, and possibly losing my live-in job and having to find a new place, and it's effecting my ability to focus. I don't know of any good ways to alert readers that the story is being worked on, and will just need a bit more time. It's always disappointed me when new chapters of stories seemed to be posted, when they were in fact just apology notes, but that seems to be the most commonly used method. I still don't think I want to go there.

Thank you to all of you who still continue to review this story even though I haven't been able to respond for, like, three chapters. I cherish them all, and have responded to most in my head, but actually typing them up is more of a challenge. I'll be responding soon! I love corresponding with you all, but I hate feeling like I have to fit it in my schedule and rush through it. Not cool.

Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta, Gottriplets!

Also, this chapter comes with its own playlist.**

Kurt sits behind Blaine during Warblers practice, so he's not in the other boy's line of sight. Blaine deserves to enjoy what was always his favorite part of the day without the reminder that he and Kurt aren't speaking. He deserves his space. It's just a coincidence that the position means Kurt can watch Blaine through the whole meeting.

Blaine doesn't participate much in the conversation, but he's engaged, nodding at the appropriate moments. He even voices a song preference, and might have said more, had an argument about the Warblers not being a barbershop quartet not impeded their progress.

As Blaine gets up to leave (and Kurt carefully avoids looking like he's watching), Wes pats him on the shoulder and wishes him good luck on their Calculus test tomorrow. Blaine's eyes widen before he accepts the luck with a quiet, "You, too." Kurt knows that look. Blaine may have tried to hide it, but it's obvious he'd forgotten about the test. Kurt also knows what that means. Blaine doesn't take school lightly. When the assignments pile on, he just works harder. If he actually went as far as forgetting about a test, he's pulling an all-nighter.

Poor Blaine will be exhausted tomorrow, and with all the time he'll dedicate to Calculus, he won't have any time to get himself coffee.

With that thought comes Kurt's first stroke of genius.

The next morning finds Kurt at the Lima Bean, bright and early, facing a sleep-crinkled-yet-cheery barista.

"Hi, can I have one nonfat mocha and one medium drip, please?"

"Sure. Will that be all?"

"Y- uh," Blaine won't have time for breakfast, either. "Could you add the ham and cheese croissant?"

"All right, that will be $6.12."

While Kurt waits, he pulls out a notebook and a pen. The pen turns out to be red, but it will make a dashing statement.

He begins to write.

"Dear Blaine-"

Dear? No. He can't call him 'dear.'

Kurt flips the page and starts again.

"Blaine,

I heard you have a math test today-"

God, that's already boring.

Try three.

"Blaine,

I hope you didn't have to study too hard-"

That's judgmental. When did notes become difficult?

"Blaine,

Good luck on your Calculus test!"

Now, was that so hard? Kurt doesn't sign his name, deciding that's the line not to cross when it comes to giving Blaine space.

Gift breakfast in hand, Kurt gets to Blaine's first class before anyone else arrives and heads straight for the desk he's walked Blaine to dozens of times before. Dalton doesn't have assigned seating, but for all intents and purposes, this is Blaine's.

He sets the note down, unfolded and easily visible, and places the paper coffee cup over the corner to keep it in place. The bagged croissant he places on a napkin, grease stain down because ew, and his designer's eye is satisfied.

What is he doing? Staring down at the coffee cup, Kurt feels the first tendril of doubt. He's supposed to be giving Blaine space. Is this too much? Will this overwhelm him?

It's... It's not like Kurt's trying to get in the other boy's face. He won't even be here when Blaine arrives. And, he's not just trying to show Blaine how good of a friend he is so the other boy will talk to him again. Kurt Hummel is a good friend, so he's making sure his best friend has coffee and breakfast to get him ready for that damn Calculus test. If Blaine is touched enough to end the silence, well then it's a win for both of them.

He leaves the room just as the teacher arrives.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Kurt points to the arrangement, "Could you please make sure Blaine Anderson gets that?"

The professor smiles warmly at the breakfast before nodding, "I'm sure he'll really appreciate it."

A similar warmth floods Kurt's chest at the words. "Thank you."

With that, the first bell rings and Kurt rushes off to his own class.

It's a miracle. Kurt's math teacher has finally run out of things to talk about. He's actually able to finish a lesson without the bell interrupting lecture. This means that not only are his students not late to lunch; they're actually four whole minutes early. Knowing this will never happen again, the classmates race to the cafeteria, hoping to finally try the treats that are usually gone by the time they arrive.

They aren't the first students there, since there are actually teachers in this school who enjoy giving themselves a longer lunch, but they are privy to a desert almost none of them have seen before: bread pudding; it's new, so it must be their's.

By the time Kurt, who has never been excited enough by food to run through the halls like a child aiming for summer vacation, gets to the deserts, there is only one bread pudding left. This wouldn't normally be a problem. Kurt would just take his usual fruit and yogurt parfait and leave the sugary treat for the next boy. Only, he happened to notice (read: scoured the cafeteria) that Blaine has yet to arrive, and bread pudding is absolutely his favorite desert.

Kurt grabs the bread pudding.

He doesn't go far. At the first table he comes to, he sets his tray down. He doesn't sit, though. He needs to be ready. As soon as Blaine steps out of the lunch line, Kurt needs to give him the bread pudding. He can't wait for Blaine to find a seat. Dropping the desert off when Blaine is seated, then awkwardly walking away when they are expected to spend lunch together would attract attention, make Blaine feel uncomfortable. Blaine doesn't need to answer prying questions about the state of their relationship right now.

Kurt stands, hovering over his food, and waits. Aiming for nonchalance, he fixes his cuff. Slowly. He unfolds it, tugs out any wrinkles, and refolds. Then he does the other.

So, this is taking longer than anticipated.

Kurt kneels to re-tie his shoes, just to remember he's wearing zip-up boots today. So, he's kneeling for nothing. He dusts the toe of his boot, just in case anyone's watching, and regains his full height.

Finally, he spots Blaine in line. It's just a glimpse of hair in the crowd, but Kurt would know those gelled curls anywhere.

Gone is Kurt's forced casual air as he watches that head slowly inch forward. The crowd thins between them, and Kurt can make out Blaine's disappointed frown at the lacking desert table.

Blaine walks away from it empty-handed, leaving the crowd entirely, and Kurt has room to strike. Tray in hand, he beelines for Blaine. Before the other boy even spots him coming, Kurt deposits the small desert plate on Blaine's tray and keeps walking. He doesn't stick around for a thank you. This isn't about that. It's about getting Blaine his bread pudding, and that happened.

He's walked twelve paces before realizing he didn't fully think out the exit strategy. He's just sort of... leaving, no real goal in sight.

He really has to work on this whole planning thing.

"Hey, Kurt!" Jeff calls him over to the forming Warbler table, thus saving him in the nick of time from looking like a fool.

He sits, a grateful smile on his face.

"Blaine, over here!" Jeff calls next, and that smile drops. Exactly what Kurt wanted to avoid is happening. Blaine won't be able to sit with him, which will draw attention to the predicament, which Blaine shouldn't have to deal with. He can feel Blaine's gaze fall on him and holds his breath.

"Sorry, Guys, but I need to study through lunch," Blaine explains as he aims for an isolated seat across the room.

Just like that, his friends let him go, returning to their chatter about the merits of 90's boy bands as Blaine eats alone.

Kurt watches him through the meal, and not once does that boy crack open a book.

Warblers practice goes exactly as it did yesterday, with as little communication with Blaine, and it's beginning to wear on Kurt.

He's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, missing his best friend. He used to call him at this time. Back before Winter Break, and all the chaos it brought, Kurt and Blaine used to spend at least an hour after school on the phone. It started with Blaine checking on him during the Karofsky trauma, morphed into him making sure Kurt made the long drive back to Lima okay, became a chance for them to just spend desired time in each other's company... and now it's gone.

He misses it. So much.

His fingers keep twitching to the phone bulging from his pocket, even though he knows better, and he can't take this. He can't take the silence.

He needs to.. He needs... Music. He needs music. Happy music, to make him feel happy inside.

He has a playlist for this, a response to his very first, and very awful first day at McKinley, and as soon as "Oh, happy day!" rings out, he's starting to feel marginally better. He shuts his eyes and lets the optimism of Idina, Liza, and Gene Kelly alter his mood. There aren't many clouds a good cry and "Defying Gravity" can't at least shape into fuzzy animals.

Kurt's eyes pop open. This is what Blaine needs. Sure, it isn't the cure all to end all, but as sad as Blaine has been lately (because of Kurt), he can use the musical pick-me-up.

He thinks about just copying his own cheerful playlist (entitled 'They'll All Work For Me Someday'), but it has far more Broadway than Blaine would choose. This is, after all, for Blaine. Kurt logs into the iTunes Store and starts searching. A list quickly forms.

He starts with Judy Garland's "Over the Rainbow" because The Wizard of Oz was the fifth movie they saw together, then immediately finds "A Moment Like This." He makes sure it's the Kelly Clarkson original, because for Blaine, before there was Katy Perry, there wasKelly Clarkson. "Simply The Best" goes in easily because, as Blaine explained, one can not love musical divas and not worship Tina Turner. Kurt argued the same could be said about Diana Ross, which led to a fit of giggles over the iconic claim of one of her hits, so in goes "I'm Coming Out."

Blaine is apparently extremely inspiring, and Kurt finds his task easier and easier. Blaine sounds amazing when he sings any Queen song: "Don't Stop Me Now." Kurt hopes he's not being too obvious, but "You're My Best Friend" goes right in with it. He picks "Never Gonna Give You Up" because there was a month where David Rick-rolled them so often they refused to open his emails. Since they always sing along with in on the radio, U2's "Beautiful Day" has to go on the list.

Kurt finds that Blaine's favorite obscure band, Aqua, has a song called "Best Friend." It's a legitimately happy song. No ulterior motives are required to put it on the list. Really. Ahem.

Pretty soon, he's just tossing in happy songs as he thinks of them, wanting to put as much in as possible. "What a Wonderful World," "Joy to the World," "Walking on Sunshine" (despite images of too many yellow babydoll dresses at once), "I Will Survive," "You've Got a Friend," "Bubbly," "Lean On Me," "A Beautiful Morning," "You Raise Me Up," and "Top of the World."

He tops it off with "Footloose" to make an even 20, because Kurt can totally see Blaine going all Kevin Bacon on the Dalton couches.

He purchases the songs he doesn't already own, burns a CD, and Sharpies, "Blaine's Happy Collection." Okay, it's cheesy, but Kurt Hummel is nothing if not direct.

The rest of his evening is filled with the homework he put off, which means he misses Top Model, but it's worth it.

The next morning, the CD (protected in a Bedazzled jewel case), is left on Blaine's first period desk, precisely where the coffee went the day before.

It has Kurt worrying by his first class. His first gift was subtle, and could have been left by anyone. The bread pudding was hardly a grand gesture. A mixed CD, though? Why does it occur to Kurt now that that's typically a romantic choice, a holdover from the 80s mixed tapes filled with horribly obvious songs about sex acts?

He's apologizing for the time he treated Blaine like his boyfriend by giving him a boyfriend gift! He could smack himself.

No. No, this isn't an apology, and it certainly isn't romantic. There is no lovin' in elevators or pouring of sugar on anyone on that CD. It's just happy music for the best friend he wants to be happy. That's it.

At least, Kurt knows that, but as he needs to occasionally remind himself, the world does not revolve around him and Blaine doesn't know what's going on in his head. And, he's back to wanting to smack himself.

Kurt leaves class trying to formulate a plan to fix the mistake that gift certainly caused (so far, it involves a time machine), when he comes face to face with Blaine. He gasps. He feels like he should go, or avert his eyes, but Blaine is looking right at him, and he just can't move.

Blaine holds the CD up for Kurt to see.

Kurt's lip trembles. Is this it? Is this the end? The real end? The moment Blaine explains how little space Kurt is giving him, how he's violating their agreement?

Blaine clears his throat, looks at the CD as if to let it remind him of something, and looks back at Kurt, "Um, I wanted to say thank you."

Kurt's eyes widen, his jaw dropping a bit. Before he even has time to process, Blaine gives him a small half-smile and takes off down the hallway to his left.

Kurt watches him go, lips still parted, and a weight lifts from his chest.

The world's a little brighter. Maybe... maybe, there really is hope for their friendship.

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! Your kind words are everything a writer could ask for.**