Spoilers: Up to 2.13.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5, 028
Disclaimer: RIB and FOX own everything ever.
This prompt. Kurt reschedules halfway through a date with Blaine in order to comfort Mercedes in her hour of need. But first Blaine gets Kurt to be his boyfriend, through the power of song.
Kurt had done a lot of crazy things for love (or approximations thereof). For Finn he had ignored years of bullying, manipulated Rachel into a humiliating catsuit, tried idiotically to save Finn’s relationship with his pregnant girlfriend through song, and skipped school to redecorate a room Finn was constitutionally incapable of appreciating. For Sam he had turned a firmly blind eye to the likely reaction of the school to two guys singing together, done the much harder deed of changing his mind and facing up to said reaction instead, and attempted to help with the disaster area that was Sam’s hair. For his dad, he had joined the football team. And blown “Defying Gravity” but he didn’t like to think about that and really, the football team?
But probably the single craziest thing was the one he was doing right now. Mercedes was really lucky her crisis had come now rather than two days ago; even friendship had its limits. That was the problem lately; friendship had plenty of limits.
Religion (and the lack thereof) was problem. He had always smiled and nodded when Mercedes mentioned God before, but ever since he finally came out and said that he didn’t believe in the sky fairy it had been more of an issue. He couldn’t stop wanting to shake her by the shoulders and ask how she could possibly believe in something just because no one could prove it wasn’t true; did she believe there was always a unicorn just beyond her field of vision, too? And she kept dropping God into the conversation because she plainly didn’t see how he could be functioning without Him, under the crushing weight of all that existential dread.
Boyfriends (and the lack thereof) were a problem. He might, possibly, have gotten a little caught up in having Blaine even before they were boyfriends; the dizzy-headed novelty of having someone like him, someone who understood, had been monumentally distracting. Add to that his intense desire to date this someone and his firm belief that he could make that happen, and it got even more distracting. And, in retrospect, he could see he turned into one of those obnoxious people who was so happy with their new partner that they felt a burning need to pair off all of their single friends, and before he was even not-single himself.
Proximity (and the lack thereof) was a huge problem. Mercedes and he had been closest when the student body effectively threw them together and said, “here; this is your only option, so have at it.” Then there was Quinn, and Tina, and finally Blaine, and given other people… without the urgency of needing this specific someone to listen and care, they hadn’t hung out as much. Add to that the transfer to Dalton, and the fact that they weren’t forced into the same room several times a day and had to go pretty far out of their way in order to hang out at all, what with the two-hour drive, and having to make time for each other seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. Little stories and comments suddenly required all this set up, since they weren’t seeing the same people or things, so their texts and emails and Facebook messages got pretty thin on the ground too. It sucked, but they were both just so busy.
So maybe he had been letting the day-to-day aspects of being a friend slide, but come hell or high water he was going to be good at the emergency sleepover parts, because their friendship was, admittedly, founded on convenience - but that didn’t make them magically not friends when the convenience went away. And it certainly didn’t change the fact that he loved her.
So he was doing this crazy thing, which was driving away from his second-ever date with Blaine. A date. With Blaine.
Mercedes was lucky he loved her so much.
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The crux of the problem with trying to get Kurt Hummel to be his boyfriend was that Blaine was bad at romance, and also bad at admitting that he was bad at romance. He was ninety-seven percent sure that Kurt wouldn’t be opposed to the idea - he definitely hadn’t sounded like being the serenade-ee on Valentine’s Day would have been a bad thing - but he wanted to do this right and make sure Kurt knew Blaine really wanted him, that this wasn’t about there being, conveniently, an attractive gay boy who, conveniently, liked him. And he wanted to eliminate the three percent of doubt that was keeping him up all night. So he resolved to do this right, with flowers and candy and songs, and realized belatedly that he didn’t know how to do that without making an idiot of himself.
His next step maybe should not have been to google “how to get a guy to be your boyfriend.”
The step after that really shouldn’t have been to click on a link to WikiHow (The Manual You Can Edit!), any more than the steps after should have been founded on his belief that since WikiHow told him he had this romance thing down, he was getting better at it. It was just that the levels were all laid out in numerical order, and it was comforting how far along he already was. According to “How to Get the Boy You Like to Go from Stranger, to Friend, to Boyfriend” he’d reached level sixteen without even trying.
1) Make sure this guy is worth your time. Done. Kurt had had him at being the kind of boy who takes his show choir up on a suggestion that he spy on another team, claps enthusiastically for said team, gets caught, and orders a coffee (already in an entirely different outfit) with aplomb despite thinking he’s about to get egged or beaten up or whatever they do over at McKinley.
2) Get to know him better. Please, they had heart-to-hearts every few hours and had been doing so since they met. Admittedly this was because Kurt was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when they met, but still. He had this in the bag.
3) Find common interests. About the only interest they didn’t share was sports; done.
4 -6) Joke, flirt, and ask questions. Done, done, and done. He hadn’t realized he’d been flirting, and Kurt did most of the joking, but it counted. And he might not ask a lot of questions, because he didn’t want to pry, but he didn’t have to - Kurt was talkative and open and there weren’t questions to ask, usually. This also counted.
7) Do things on the weekends but don’t call them dates. Hah! Try every day. Also in the bag.
8) Gifts. Did coffee count?
9) Start flirting more. The site stipulated touching as part of this. He and Kurt had progressed to hand-holding within seconds of their introduction; he was all over this.
10) Get more personal. He could write an advice column on romance, he didn’t even need the site. They were plenty personal already. He knew how Kurt had come out, Kurt knew that he had performed at theme parks. They were even.
11) Get him comfortable around you. So done. Blaine was an immensely comforting guy.
12-13) Make sure you’re both over your exes. Neither of them even had real exes. This whole romance thing was going to be easy after all. Granted, there was Jeremiah, but Blaine hadn’t even had a real thing with him. And there was Finn - Kurt had explained his crush on his now-stepbrother in an attempt to make Blaine feel less bad about the humiliating GAP Attack incident - but that had been even less real than Blaine’s fictitious love affair with Jeremiah. And there was Karofsky and, frankly, Kurt probably wasn’t over him, but there was nothing on the list about how to progress with people who’d been sexually assaulted and harassed. Blaine decided that was a different kind of not-over, so they could progress the next level.
14) Hint that you’re interested. What was “I really care about you” if not a hint? He could count that retroactively.
15) Ask him out but don’t call it a date. Again, apparently. Seriously, they were going out for dinner and a movie on Friday and neither of them had called it a date. He was a romance expert.
16) Text and email him. No one texted and emailed like Blaine. He was very reliable and efficient that way.
17) Pop the question. “Have you ever pictured us, you know, together?” And this was the one that worried him. Eighteen through twenty were possible reactions and dealing with them; he was too caught on seventeen to bother with that yet. There was nothing about how to pop the question. But - he was a performer, and Kurt liked performances. He would certainly like being asked in song. That was almost fool-proof.
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He found Wes in the library and slid into the chair opposite him. “How is French treating you?”
Wes sniffed. “It’s almost as bad as English. I should have taken Spanish.”
“You know you’d just be saying Spanish is too easy.”
Wes made a face. “Do you want something specific?”
“Actually, yes. I want to ask you a favor.”
Wes set his pen down and looked attentive. His attentive face didn’t, Blaine felt, look quite as sincere as Blaine’s own, but it came more naturally; fair trade. “Ask away.”
“I’m in love.”
“With the GAP boy with the unruly hair?”
“No! No, that’s… I’m past that. I’m in love with Kurt.”
Wes’s attentive face dropped and shattered. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “Why?”
“What?” Blaine stared, nonplussed. “I’m not asking you to date him, Wes.”
“No, but you’re my friend. Kurt is a great guy, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with him. I’m just wondering why you want to date him all of a sudden.”
“Because I love him. We’re good friends, he’s attractive, and he - he has a lot on his plate, I didn’t want to make it worse, but I love him and I want to be his boyfriend And if I don’t make a move someone’s going to -”
“And that would be a disaster,” Wes said.
“Well… yes, frankly.”
“Blaine. Think about this. You’re on the rebound. Kurt’s convenient. He’s here, he worships the ground you walk on, he lets you feel like you’re completely put-together compared to the mess he was at McKinley, and like you’re rebelling against the Warblers’ rules in a safe way.” Wes visibly fought the next words, then gave in and added, “And there’s no precedent for Warblers dating other Warblers; this is exactly the kind of drama we don’t need. It will lead to madness.” He leaned over the table. “Madness.”
“Okay, calm down.” Blaine patted his arm. “I can understand that, to you, this must look like a bad idea.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I just said.”
“Actually, what you just said was a bit more confrontational than that. I’m going to let that slide because I can understand how this would look… that way to you. I’ve been expending a lot of energy on ignoring the way my feelings for Kurt have been growing and changing, and it’s not your fault that you don’t know how sincere I am about this. Kurt is the most amazing guy I’ve ever met, and since he opened my eyes to the possibility… I want to be as close to him as possible.”
“That doesn’t help me three months down the road when you two are fighting over hairspray brands and disrupting rehearsals.”
“Wes…”
“Fine! Fine, what exactly do you want me to do?”
“Well, I’d like to tell Kurt in song the way I feel about him.”
Wes massaged his temples. “Of course you would.”
“In a public setting.”
“I thought you might.”
“With this song.” He laid out the music. “Which is where the help comes in; I can bring some kind of musical accompaniment - I don’t think Kurt would be very impressed by my bringing half the school along on a date - but I’d like your help rearranging it to fit my abilities.”
“Anything,” Wes said. “Anything you - oh my God, Blaine, please tell me you’re joking.” He grabbed the sheet music off the table and looked closer. “You are joking, right?”
“No? I think it’s appropriate; it’s a very sweet song, and Kurt knows that I adore him. What I need to tell him is that I feel attracted to him as well.”
“You know, when you chose ‘When I Get You Alone’ for the GAP Attack, I didn’t judge, it wasn’t my business. But this? Now I have to wonder if you’re some kind of sex fiend if these are the songs you come up with for a romantic serenade.”
“But I really think -”
“Blaine? No. I will help you rearrange a song, but trust me on this: You need to pick a different one.”
Blaine considered that Wes did have more experience with romance, even if he probably hadn’t gotten to level sixteen without even trying like Blaine had. And he wanted Wes on his side in this. “If you insist,” he sighed. “I’ll pick something else. I just don’t see what’s wrong with ‘Your Body Is a Wonderland’.”
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Wes knew for a fact that Blaine’s first date with Kurt was a disaster in all respects but the ‘get Kurt to be his boyfriend’ one. It was a disaster first and foremost because Wes could not get that damn ‘Wonderland’ song out of his head now whenever he looked at Kurt. The bit about porcelain skin was disturbingly appropriate and it kept setting him off on the candy lips and bubblegum tongue parts, which was just not right. And whenever Kurt’s bangs fell in his face Wes started thinking about the shape he might take when crawling toward the pillowcase. Blaine was going to give him a sexual identity crisis with this tomfoolery.
On the not-to-do-with-Wes score, the date was a disaster because they were thrown out of the expensive French restaurant Blaine had selected after Blaine danced around on the furniture singing a song about sex. Also the song didn’t work; Blaine sang so many flirty songs that Kurt thought he was just messing around some more, and a little cruelly at this point. He had been very terse in the car until Blaine asked him outright if this meant no thank you, I’d rather not, whereupon Kurt informed him that if it was actually on the table then the answer was a resounding yes.
Wes knew this partly because Blaine had given him a blow-by-blow account that skipped the part where they got thrown out (and how exactly Kurt had made the yes so resounding), and partly because Kurt had stormed up to him in the library the next day and said, “Tell me you didn’t let him sing Cassie’s ‘Me & U’ in public on purpose.”
“He wanted to do ‘Your Body Is a Wonderland’,” Wes said. “I toned him down, trust me.”
“Oh my god.”
“He said you still agreed to go out with him,” Wes said, suddenly wondering if Blaine had had a psychotic break.
“Of course I agreed to go out with him! I love him, and anyway, it was hilarious! I’m just a little taken aback that you and David let him go out into the world with the soundtrack to, seriously, ‘Me & U’? It was a very small restaurant. Close quarters, Wes. Everyone had front-row seats. They threw us out soon after Blaine told me to relax and let him make that move which, incidentally, is apparently our secret thing, and asked that I keep it between him and me. I mean, really. Did you make him read the lyrics? They specify privacy for him.”
“I don’t think he has a very good filter,” said Wes, who was trying desperately to keep from humming ‘Wonderland’ at this point. It was so abominably catchy. “And you really still agreed to go out with him?”
“I could barely keep from simultaneously laughing hysterically and tearing his clothes off, that’s not the point.”
“You try turning down two of his song proposals in a row, sir, and then we can talk about this. Now, it’s getting late, and I have to go home. I imagine that you do as well.” In order to swim in a deep sea of blankets.
“Fine. Whatever.” Kurt jabbed his fingers at Wes’ eyes. “I’m watching you.”
“Without my hand behind - I mean alright then. Goodbye.” Wes hurried to his car and called his girlfriend, who was being very understanding about his sex song fixation, probably because she thought it was a lot funnier than was actually the case.
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Their second date was not a disaster, until Kurt canceled halfway through. Blaine would even have gone so far as to say that their second date was a roaring success, except for the canceling part. And maybe one other thing, namely his nervous breakdown. Mid-sushi was not the time to have an epiphany and lose all confidence in his ability to be a boyfriend, but there was something deeply introspective about the shrimp that evening; they looked like little dead navel-gazers.
When Kurt said, “So, Wes tells me the song you settled on was actually an improvement on your original selection,” Blaine didn’t think much of it, because Kurt’s foot was hooked around his ankle under the table and while they weren’t playing footsie exactly, he could see footsie-playing in his near future.
“I don’t know what everyone has against John Mayer,” Blaine protested, trying to eat with his left hand without spilling anything, because it would be a cold day in hell before he let go of Kurt, whose fingers were tangled with his on the right.
“It’s not actually the artist that I object to,” Kurt said. “Just, if you have a voyeurism fetish, you should probably tell me now.”
Blaine laughed, and then realized that it was indeed a joke, but the kind of joke that is gently pointing out something unfunny, and went back over the lyrics in his head. “But… ‘Me & U’ isn’t… dirty,” he said uncertainly.
“Blaine, you are amazing, but you told me loudly and in public that you would love me all the way down and get me right where I’ll like it. And you told Jeremiah, also loudly and in public, that he could keep his toys in the drawer that night. You… do know what those lyrics mean, right?”
“Well,” Blaine said. “Yeah, but… they’re love songs. Sexy love songs. They, um. They sound different when you say them instead of singing them.” He stared at Kurt for a second. “Oh God. WikiHow lied to me. I’m completely incompetent. I can’t even tell when a song is dirty. I’m going to be an awful boyfriend. I’ll embarrass you or break your heart or - see, this is exactly why it’s so much easier for me to just blend in with the Warblers -”
“Blaine?” Kurt knocked their shoulders together. “Breathe. Neither of us are experts at this. Somehow I think we’ll make it work.” He squeezed Blaine’s hand. “Anyway, I’ve been planning for a boyfriend since I was five years old; I pretty much have this all figured out. Just relax.”
“I thought you said you weren’t an expert either.”
“I haven’t put any of it into practice yet. But I do have very solid theories.”
“If I mess this up -” Blaine said. “You’re the most important friend I have.”
“How about, as an experiment, you try to relax for tonight, okay?” Kurt tucked their hands against his side. “Let’s have dinner, and go to our movie, and just enjoy tonight before you have a crisis of confidence.”
“Yeah.” Blaine managed to smile. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Want some of my shrimp?”
“I would love to have some of your shrimp.”
After that, the date went really well. Blaine was quietly panicking a little bit, but Kurt was a very centering person. It was hard to freak out around him because he was so distracting, just by being himself - he was like a constant, small explosion. And by the time they were buying their tickets for Black Swan, he was well on the way to being completely chill, due in large part to Kurt’s sideways glances and the way their clasped hands kept bumping against each other’s thighs, and all in all, this looked like it was going to be a really fun movie, although he might not see much of it.
Right up until the call came, it looked like it was turning into a perfect evening.
“Oh, hang on,” Kurt said, disentangling their hands for the first time since they’d gotten out of the car as “And I Am Telling You” jingled from his pocket. “That’s Mercedes.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll get popcorn. Do you want anything?”
“No, thanks,” he said absently.
“Bet you steal some of mine.”
“It’s not organic. I would never.”
Blaine chuckled and left him to his call. By the time he got back, Kurt looked like he was contemplating walking off a cliff. “Whoa. You okay?”
“I think I need to cancel,” he said.
“Cancel what?”
“This date? My second date ever with the man of my dreams? I think I have to walk out halfway through.”
Blaine’s stomach curled into a ball and dropped into his feet. “Why?”
“It’s nothing you did! Mercedes just… she’s having an awful week and today was particularly bad. It’s so hard for me to be there for her lately, and I really don’t want this to be another time I wasn’t.”
“Oh,” Blaine said. “Yeah, sure.” He looked at the popcorn in his hand. “I’ll give you a ride to her house?”
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There wasn’t even anything unusually wrong. School hadn’t been worse than it was normally. It had been better, if anything, because there hadn’t been any slushies in a while. And she’d meant it about loneliness being worth it, because that was the fuel she needed to be a star; everyone felt lonely, but you had to really ache with it to be able to express it powerfully enough for “everyone” to relate. You had to have it blasting on ten for everyone else to be able to feel their five when they heard you, to hear their pain echoed and validated and made into something beautiful. And it was totally worth it. But she got so tired.
Kurt showed up a half an hour after her call, bearing a tub of ice cream and a handful of DVDs. She could hear him chatting with her mom for a second on the stairway, something about her evening wear and the curtains, and then he swanned into her room and made a beeline for the bed. Then it took him another five minutes to undo his crazy boots, but after that he could finally scoot over next to her and kiss her cheek.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I had a fight with Rachel yesterday.” Technically true.
“Do you want me to give her another human interactions talk? I think she took notes on the last one, but maybe this time I could whip up a PowerPoint?”
She giggled weakly. “No, it wasn’t that bad. Mrs. Sylvester made it all up, we figured out later. And we made up by singing together before we even knew that…”
“You and Rachel? You two had a duet?”
“From Rent.”
“You’re joking.” Kurt flopped down on his back. “You are doing this on purpose. I am going to kill Finn, slowly and painfully; how could he not mention that?”
“It was ‘Take Me or Leave Me’.”
Kurt made a strangled noise. “Why does the universe hate me.”
“It could have been a real fight,” Mercedes said. “It wasn’t, but… what Sue told me Rachel had said, that I’m not that talented? Rachel would say that. And honestly? I’d say the same about her. If either of us thought it would get us something, you know? I just miss having the kind of friend I would never have believed that about. Around all the time, I mean.” Before he could respond to that, she added, “Don’t blame Finn, though. He was distracted by Sam kicking off Bieber week for the glee club.”
“Sam did what?”
Mercedes laughed and poked his side. “You know what? It was pretty cute. It even got Lauren going.”
“Even? As in, other people included?”
“Don’t you start with me! If you’d seen all those fine boys up there throwing chalk dust around singing about needing somebody to love…” She poked him again. “Wait, what are you wearing? You look way too fabulous for a pity party.”
“Oh. No, it’s just that I was out already when you called.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I have a pair of pajamas over here. Do you want me to call my dad and tell him I’m staying over? Your mom will have to verify where I am, but he’d be fine with it.”
“Since when does your dad not buy every word you tell him? Wait, were you out with Blaine? Were you on a date?”
“I was this close to getting to at least second base, Mercedes; I love you that much.”
“Oh, Kurt, why didn’t you tell me?” She slumped against her pillows. “Now even my friends can’t get any; I’m contagious.”
“No, no, Mercedes! I will have plenty of dates with Blaine, whenever I want them.” He propped himself up on an elbow and reached over to take her hand. “You came first this time. I know I haven’t been very good at that lately, and I wanted to make it up to you.”
“Kurt, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Don’t get mad.”
“Okay,” he said warily.
“I totally understand why you’re into Blaine; he’s like the perfect guy for you. So just hypothetically. Do you ever wonder, if he weren’t as nice and talented and understanding, do you think you’d still like him because there’s no one else to like?”
“What brought this on?”
“I’ve been thinking about Puck lately. And you. You know, when I sort of decided we were dating? About how lonely I got to even consider going out with Puck, and to ignore that you didn’t think about me that way.”
“Oh.” He sat up and tucked an arm around her. “We’re friends, right?”
“What? Why are you even asking that?”
“Well, neither of us had any other options, really, sophomore year. We became friends because no one else would have us.” He kissed her cheek. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’re perfect for each other, does it.”
“No, I guess not.” She smiled, for real this time.
“Or that we’re still perfect for each other now that it’s less convenient, or that you were right; you don’t need a boyfriend to be fabulous. You’ll find someone as soon as we get out of this cultural backwater. Now, what do you say I go get some spoons and you put a movie in?”
“That sounds good.”
“I love you.”
“You say that now. Wait until I tell you what I let Finn walk around all day in once he caught Bieber Fever.”
Kurt paused halfway to the door. “No,” he said. “That sweatshirt he left with, please no.”
Mercedes cackled. “Oh yeah.”
“He doesn’t have enough hair!”
“Neither does Mike, but they both managed. At least they weren’t as bad as Puck.”
“Oh, Mercedes, please, please tell me you have pictures.”
“Boy, who do you think you’re talking to? I got a whole album on Facebook already.”
“You are a goddess.”
She grinned and, no, it didn’t make the loneliness go away - it was still waiting to come back as soon as Kurt wasn’t right there with her - but it did make it easier to handle. “Don’t you forget it.”
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“On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”
“What?” Blaine turned around and found Kurt standing behind him, disconcertingly close. “Whoa, what are you, Batman? Uh, mad about what?”
“Me walking out last night.” Kurt wrapped and unwrapped his fingers around the strap of his bag. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I still can’t decide if it was incredibly rude or a preemptive assertion of my independence as a person and the primacy of friendship to my emotional wellbeing.”
“It did get me thinking,” Blaine admitted, grabbing his hand. “Come here.” He tugged him into the Warblers’ rehearsal room, which was conveniently close and unlikely to get them found out before class started. “So, I have something to say about our relationship.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“Wow. No! Why would you think that?”
Kurt relaxed infinitesimally. “I didn’t, really.”
“Oh…kay. No, what I wanted to say is that I’m actually feeling a lot better about this whole thing. I spent last night doing a lot of thinking too - partly because Black Swan was terrifying and I couldn’t sleep - and I feel so much more relaxed about being boyfriends.”
“That’s great! I mean, I thought you were going to break out into a cold sweat over dinner, so that’s wonderful. Why, though? Is it because I’m a crappy boyfriend? I really won’t do that all the time; Mercedes hardly ever asks me for something last-minute, so I couldn’t say no after everything we’ve been through lately -”
“No, ah, no. It’s actually because you’re a really good friend. I’ve been… flipping out just assuming that if we’re boyfriends, I have to run the show, and as soon as I mess it up I’m going to lose you as a friend, too. But I don’t, do I - have to run the show. And if you walk out on dates to comfort friends from a rival glee club, I actually believe we could survive a breakup.”
“Blaine, honey, we’d better, because I plan on breaking up with you at least twice this year. I have a standard of drama to maintain.” Kurt grinned and kissed him. “Anyway, we have to justify Wes’ fears, or he’ll feel irrational and paranoid. And no, you don’t have to run the show.”
“So it’s at least halfway your fault when we break up by way of a screaming match in the middle of rehearsal.”
“Well, you never listen when I tell you to go easy on the hair gel.”
“Your friends are professional cockblocks. It’ll be Rachel next, probably.”
“And you want me to ignore her theoretical identity crisis when Mr. Schuester has the nerve to give a small solo that has no chance of making it to any public performance to someone who isn’t her? You cold-hearted fiend.”
“But just when we theoretically had tickets to see Grease on Ice? It’s a theoretical conspiracy.”
“I’m all argued out,” Kurt said, and kissed him again. Blaine kissed back and figured, hey, if fake arguments got real making up, he might start more of them.
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