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06 August 2011 @ 06:27 am
Romance 101  
Title: Romance 101
Length: 5,100 words
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff/Friendship
Warnings: Blaine being so oblivious that it physically pains
Summary: "So Kurt felt uncomfortable trying to be sexy-- that didn't make him any less of a person in Blaine's eyes. He just needed to let Kurt know that by showing him something he could do that Blaine was positively awful at." Takes place right after the Glee episode 'Sexy'.
Author's Note: This was the first Klaine fic that I was somewhat proud of, so I hope you enjoy it. =)

Life was weird without Kurt.

It almost seemed like someone had cut a hole in his head and everything was short-circuiting in there. It felt strange, going to the Lima Bean and ordering only one coffee. He even stood there for a moment, about to ask if they'd forgotten the other half of his order, when he remembered there was no other half. Even stranger was lying back on his bed, having nothing to do because Kurt wasn't texting him constantly. It was an odd, empty feeling. He had to face the hard truth: Blaine was a wreck without his best friend.

And it had only been two days.

"This is pathetic," Blaine said aloud to himself suddenly, his bedroom being broken from its long silent spell. "I'm just going to call Kurt and…"

And what? What was he supposed to say? They weren't mad at each other-- no, nowhere near that. Kurt just asked Blaine to leave after their brief, premature venture into the sex topic, and Blaine, noticing how uncomfortable Kurt had suddenly gotten, had complied to his wishes. There was no issue between them (or, at least Blaine hoped there wasn't), but Kurt hadn't contacted him at all since then, and Blaine hadn't either, not wanting to rush him. Maybe Kurt just needed some space, he figured.

Or maybe he was going crazy in his solitude, as well. Only one way to find out, right?

Blaine sat up, took a deep breath, picked up his phone, and… sat there. Staring at the screen. Doing nothing.

The seconds ticked by, and still Blaine did nothing.

Frustrated with himself, Blaine threw his phone somewhere on his bed and flopped back down, burying his face in his pillow and resisting the urge to scream into it. Why was it so hard for him to simply call Kurt and talk to him? Sure, he didn't really know what he should say, but Kurt was his friend-- he wouldn't really care. Odds were that he was missing Blaine, too.

Right?

Well, right or wrong, Blaine was just going to get this over with. He'll just call Kurt and not even think about what he was going to say, and then when the time came to actually speak, everything would be fine and he would laugh at himself later for overreacting. He rolled over to where his phone lay and pressed the number '4' speed dial, bringing the phone up to his ear.

The first ring started the beginning of a train of many panicked thoughts into his head.

Maybe this was a bad idea, after all. What on earth was he supposed to say?

Ring…

What if Kurt needed some space? Was Blaine being too pushy?

Ring… ring…

What if Kurt really was upset with him? Horrified, Blaine was just about to end the call when--

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kurt." His voice was the epitome of calm and collected, but he was a mess inside. Man up, Blaine, he told himself, Kurt is not upset with you. And if he was, well… they could just talk it out. They were good at that. Like, uncommonly good. Better-than-any-other-of-his-other-friendships good. He felt himself relax a little, and was relieved to find he felt as calm as his voice sounded when he spoke next. "How've you been?"

"Fine, I guess." Kurt suddenly sounded guilty, and for a moment Blaine got worried. "I'm sorry we haven't talked in a while. I was just worried that it'd be awkward, after… you know."

"What's there to be awkward about? It's just me, silly." Blaine said, making sure the grin on his face made its way into his voice. "And it's only been two days, Kurt-- I think I'll live." No need to let Kurt know how close he was to falling apart without him, right?

"Oh, well…" Now he sounded… disappointed? Embarrassed? "I actually kind of missed talking to you. I guess so much of my daily routine includes you that I felt a little lost without you in it. Pretty pathetic, I know." Blaine felt this odd, floating sensation in the pit of his stomach-- probably relief that he wasn't the only one who missed being around his friends so much, he thought.

"No, not really," Blaine replied, "But if you missed me so much, I might just be kind enough to relieve your suffering." He spoke casually, as if it didn't mean that much to him, when in reality he felt like if he didn't see Kurt soon, he might implode. "Mind if I come over to your place this afternoon?"

"That would be great. If you're not doing anything else, that is."

"Not a thing," Blaine said, quite truthfully. He stood up and walked towards his closet, thinking it might be a good idea to finally get out of his pajamas. "I'll be there around… 2-ish?" He checked the clock on his dresser. He had a little less than three hours until then.

"Sure. What should we do, then?"

He paused in front of his mirror, a pair of jeans hanging over his arm. Kurt still sounded a little uncomfortable about the other day, so it was Blaine's job to make him feel completely at ease around him again. They were friends, and friends could talk to each other about anything. Blaine didn't want this one little thing to stop Kurt from opening up to him. So Kurt felt uncomfortable trying to be sexy-- that didn't make him any less of a person in Blaine's eyes. He just needed to let Kurt know that by showing him something he could do that Blaine was positively awful at.

He looked into the mirror in front of him, remembering Kurt's 'sexy' faces from the other day, and his face broke into a grin as the perfect plan began to form in his now fully functioning brain.

"I have just the thing."


Two hours later led to Blaine pulling up into the Hudson-Hummel driveway, singing softly under his breath in tune to whatever catchy song was playing on the radio. He waited until the song was finished before he took the keys out of the ignition and climbed out, muscles tightening slightly as they met the crisp, cold air of early March. He rubbed his hands together for warmth as he walked up the path, only breaking them apart to knock three times on the front door.

There was silence, then Blaine heard a deeper, muffled voice from inside the house—probably right behind the door.

"Dude, chill…"

The door opened, and Blaine looked into the house to see… Well, he really couldn't see much, as Finn was standing right in the doorway, looking smug about something.

"No—Finn! I said I would get it-!" came Kurt's voice, shrill and agitated, from somewhere within the house, and Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, hey Blaine," Finn greeted, sounding falsely cheery, "Come on in."

Blaine's puzzled, yet slightly amused expression remained the same as he walked past Finn and into the house, starting to untie his scarf as the warm air engulfed him. Finn closed the door, then appeared back at his side and called out, "Hey, Kurt! Blaine's here!"

He hardly had time to wonder about the emphasis on his name before Kurt appeared from around a corner, wearing an apron tied at the waist and looking the epitome of irritated sophistication.

"Yes, I know Blaine's here, Finn," he replied, rolling his eyes and wiping his hands off on a hand towel he'd brought with him, "And you know that I know, so either you explain what your point is, or go finish cleaning the kitchen."

Finn just grinned that puppy-dog grin of his, holding his palms up in surrender. "Fine, fine… I'll go finish up." He disappeared off somewhere down the hall, and Blaine got his first chance to take a good look at Kurt's… ensemble.

"You're wearing an apron," Blaine stated unnecessarily, nodding his head. He wasn't really mocking Kurt, and Kurt knew it—but still. It wasn't quite what Blaine expected when he'd shown up at the door.

Kurt sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I am," he said, looking down at himself, "because my parents are out, and someone—" he hollered over his shoulder in the direction Finn had walked off to, "can't even manage making himself a suitable lunch. But that's over and done with, so…" He trailed off, not needing to say anything else, as he reached back and began to untie the apron.

"Well," Blaine began, folding his coat over his arm as he waited for Kurt, "I was thinking that, since my last visit ended a little…" He stopped mid-sentence, looking over to where Kurt was apparently struggling with the knot of his apron. He watched Kurt's vain attempts for a moment before moving towards him. "Here," Blaine began, chuckling a little, "Let me—"

But as Blaine's fingers touched the small of his back, Kurt inhaled sharply and jumped away like he'd been shocked. "No," he said, voice somehow breathy and a little higher than normal, "No. It's fine—I've got it. I…" But it was pointless-- his fingers were fumbling with an impossibly tight knot that he just couldn't see.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine tried again, swatting the other boy's slender fingers away, "You're fighting a losing battle, here." He started to pick at the knot, immediately noticing how Kurt's shoulders tensed up. "Relax," he said, laughing a little, "I'm not going to strangle you, or anything." Pause. Fiddle with the knot. Fiddle some more. Then frustration.

"Damn, Kurt; why'd you tie this thing so tight?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Kurt replied voice rising indignantly, "I know how to properly knot an apron, thank you very much. Finn was the one who tightened it. He teased me for wearing it, and he kept on pulling it if he wanted me to move, like it was some kind of…" He waved his hands absently, searching for the right word. "…some kind of leash."

Blaine only withheld his laughter because he didn't want to get Kurt any more agitated when he was already this wound up. It was difficult to empathize with him, though, because he could definitely understand the appeal of dragging Kurt around the kitchen by the string of his apron…

"Ow! Blaine, you just pinched me!"

Kurt's yelp snapped Blaine out of his thoughts, and he quickly refocused his attention back to what his fingers were doing. "Sorry!" he apologized. The knot was finally starting to loosen up, and Blaine let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I've almost got it."

The knot finally came undone, and Kurt was just folding up the apron when Finn poked his head around the corner.

"Everything okay over here?" he asked hesitantly, "It sounds kinda… kinky."

Blaine didn't think it was possible for someone's eyes to be that wide, but Kurt showed him that he was mistaken. Kurt's jaw was dropped, and he was mouthing wordlessly for a few seconds. Blaine was torn between laughter and utter confusion.

"You—it sounds… what?" was all Kurt managed once he seemed to have gotten back his voice. Finn just shrugged, and then Blaine finally knew not to worry, because the puppy-grin was slowly coming back…

"Hey, all I'm hearing is tying and leashes and pinching—"

"Finn!"

Kurt's face was scarlet, now. Whether by embarrassment or rage, Blaine couldn't tell—maybe a fair bit of both. Blaine's face, on the other hand, was flushing red due to his lack of oxygen from doubling up with laughter.

"It's not funny, Blaine!" Kurt was telling him, but Blaine could hardly concentrate, because it so was. There was nothing not funny about the situation. Kurt exhaled loudly in frustration, face still flushed, as he turned back to Finn. "What did you think we were doing?" But then he froze, eyes wide, and seemed to immediately regret what he just asked.

"I dunno," Finn shrugged, still grinning, "But maybe next time could you not do it in the hallway? I mean, you have your own bedroom to do things in—"

All Finn got in response was an apron to the face.

"Let's- let's just… go up to my room, before I have to get the shovel and bury Finn," Kurt said, grabbing Blaine (who was still recovering from laughter) by the arm and leading him to the stairs.

"Woah, dude," Finn called back after them, "I don't think your dad would like it if you—"

"-And I don't think your mom would like it if she saw what sort of sites you've been visiting online," Kurt shot back pointedly, not once halting in his trek up the stairs.

"On second thought, just act like I'm not even here!" was all Kurt and Blaine heard as they rounded the upstairs corner and reached Kurt's room. Kurt shut the door behind them, then sat down next to Blaine on the side of his bed, groaning as he buried his (still slightly pink) face in his hands.

>"Next time, just don't wear an apron," Blaine explained, laughing shortly, "and we won't have this problem."

Kurt lowered his hands and gave Blaine a look of mild horror. "You seriously expect me to handle food and messes with nothing to cover up this sweater?" he asked. "It's cashmere." With anyone else, Blaine would have assumed right away that they were joking, but Kurt… well, Kurt was different. That was one of the things he liked most about Kurt; how unashamedly and boldly different he was. How unique he was. Blaine liked unique, he decided. It was kind of adorable. A lot of things about Kurt were adorable, and he hoped that whoever was lucky enough to be with Kurt would tell him that.

"So, tell me," Kurt said suddenly, and Blaine looked up.

"Tell you what?" he asked, a little lost, and possibly the tiniest bit unnerved at how it sounded like Kurt had been… reading his mind, or something. He didn't think Kurt would take too kindly to Blaine calling him adorable right after the sexy fiasco.

Kurt replied with a patience that was commendable for someone dealing with how much Blaine had been spacing out in the past five minutes alone. "Earlier on the phone, you said you had something for us to do while you were over, but you mysteriously and irritatingly refused to convey the details."

"Oh, yeah." Blaine sat up straight, finally regaining complete composure and a mild excitement. "So, I know you were uncomfortable the other day, when I was here."

While Blaine's posture was relaxed and he was looking Kurt right in the eyes, Kurt's shoulders immediately tensed up, and he began to pick at the bedding and avoid Blaine's gaze.

"Oh, um—"

"And that's okay," Blaine quickly assured him, gently placing a hand on Kurt's knee to try to ease his discomfort. "We don't have to talk about that, if you don't want to."

Kurt's shoulders relaxed a little as he let out a breath. "Well, I don't want to," he confirmed with the slightest shake of his head. "At least not right now."

"That's perfectly fine," Blaine said, nodding in what he hoped was an encouraging way, and not in any way condescending. "That wasn't what I was going to suggest, anyway."

Kurt's brow furrowed. "Then… why did you bring it up?" he asked bluntly, and Blaine withheld a wince as he noticed the faint tinge of bitterness in his voice. This was going the opposite as he'd planned; clearly Kurt was still really sensitive about the topic. Okay, breathe. Blaine told himself, inhaling slowly. You can fix this before it actually needs fixing.

"Well, since you asked me for help at being sexy," he began slowly, hoping he didn't screw things up, "I thought that maybe this time, you could help me with something, instead."

That seemed to have caught Kurt's interest. He looked up, both intrigued and confused. "What?" he asked. Blaine smiled.

"Romance."


Five minutes later led to Kurt completely in his element, while Blaine stood beside him, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other and holding a hairbrush in his right hand.

"Now," Kurt began, almost bouncing as he did a little spin to turn and face Blaine, "Say—hypothetically—that you and I are going on our first date. What do you think would be a romantic way to give me flowers?"

He held his hands together and eyed Blaine patiently. But Blaine just stood, at a loss, looking at the brush in his hand. "This… is a hairbrush…" he stated slowly, and Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it is," he replied, exasperated. "But we are going to pretend that it is a lovely bouquet of flowers, just like we're only pretending you and I are on a date. This is all hypothetical, Blaine- use your imagination. Now, give it to me."

"Give what to you, now?" Blaine inquired, grinning, causing Kurt to flush another marvelous shade of pink. He hardly got any time to bask in his wit, though, before Kurt snatched the brush out of his hands and whacked him on the side with it. "Ow!"

"Be serious!" Kurt scolded, trying and failing to appear intimidating, due to the incredible blush on his cheeks. Blaine suddenly felt bad for yet again bringing up the subject that made Kurt uncomfortable, even if it was unintentional this time. His plan was to make Kurt feel less awkward by putting himself into a vulnerable position, not the other way around. Why couldn't he do anything right?

"Do you want to do this, or not?" Kurt asked him, a little annoyed, but also completely serious. Blaine resisted the urge to face-palm himself.

"No, no-- I do," he hastily assured him, "I really do. I'll try to be serious. I promise."

Kurt sighed and shook his head, reluctantly giving Blaine back the hairbrush and walking over to his original position opposite him. He eyed Blaine expectantly, eyebrow raised, and Blaine tried to really concentrate on a romantic way to give Kurt the hairbrush.

>No, not hairbrush-- bouquet of flowers.

Totally a bouquet of flowers.

"Uh," he began ever-so-eloquently, mindlessly running a hand through his half-gelled hair as he tried to think. Romantic. Right. He looked up at Kurt, and the uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Kurt's semi-glare softened considerably. "Well…" How was he supposed to do this? The only things he had for reference were movies, plays, and songs. Wait—songs. He could do that. Things always ended up perfect in songs. How would he do this if it was a music video?

"Maybe I should--" he began, bending down on one knee, when he was cut off by Kurt.

"Gap Attack!" he shouted suddenly, startling Blaine and causing him to lose his balance and fall sideways on the floor.

"What?" he asked, blinking and utterly bewildered, as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Gap Attack," Kurt repeated, though much calmer and quieter this time. "This is exactly where you went wrong there. You're overdoing it," he explained simply, "Sure, some people might like over-the-top gestures, but wait until you know that beforehand, or you might just… scare them off."

Blaine groaned, running his hands over his face. "It works in the movies…" he mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"The other person's reaction is also scripted in the movies," Kurt replied pointedly, sitting down on the side of his bed. Blaine got up off the floor and sat next to him, folding his hands in his lap.

"Well, what should I do, then?" he asked, looking to Kurt.

"Think simple."

He paused before speaking this time. "How?"

Blaine decided that he didn't really care about how stupid he sounded right now. For one thing, Kurt was the one person that he knew for sure wouldn't judge him. He also was incredibly desperate, and Kurt seemed to have all the answers. So, he simply awaited the response of the boy next to him, every ounce of his eagerness apparent on his face.

Kurt was thoughtful for a few moments, but then his face lit up, presumably with an idea. "I think I have something," he announced, clapping his hands together once in his excitement. This adorable action distracted Blaine for a moment and he smiled in spite of himself, but then Kurt turned towards him and Blaine refocused his attention to the task at hand.

"Let's throw hypothetical situations out the window," Kurt instructed, "I'm me, and you're you. And we're just friends. And I," He paused, suddenly wearing that 'I'm fabulous' smirk that Blaine was positive he had been using since birth, "I have just given an award-winning performance on Broadway. You came to see me perform-- on opening night, like the good friend you are," he added, causing Blaine to smile softly to himself. "Now I'm backstage, and you've just come to give me these lovely, lovely flowers. How would you give them to me, Kurt, as a friend? Act it out."

It might have sounded silly to some people, but it surprised Blaine how easily he could picture the scene Kurt had described. Maybe because he'd already imagined it so many times on his own: Kurt going big, going places. Blaine maybe doing some music here and there, not a 'star' in the sense Kurt would be, but in his own way, happy to perform. Blaine showing up to as many of Kurt's shows as he could, and yes, always bringing him flowers. Because Kurt would be amazing, and Blaine would always be there for him, no matter what. He didn't know when all of this came to him; he just knew that it was, and that was how things were going to be for them. It was the one thing Blaine was absolutely sure of in his life.

And so Blaine smiled as he watched Kurt cross his leg over the other and pretend to take off his stage make up, and it was only too easy to get in character.

"Kurt, you were fabulous-- as always," he began with a grin, earning a genuine smile from Kurt beneath those haughtily raised eyebrows. "And I brought these for you," he added, handing the brush over. Kurt took it and held it delicately in one hand. "Why, thank you, Blaine." He then smelled the 'flowers', pressing his other hand to his heart as his eyelids fluttered closed, and Blaine laughed.

"There you go," Kurt said suddenly, dropping the act. "Romance."

Blaine just stared. "That's it?" he asked, and Kurt nodded.

"That's it."

"But…" he said slowly, trying to understand, "I didn't even try to be romantic."

"Blaine," Kurt began, in a tone that sounded like he was trying to explain something very simple to a confused toddler. "That's exactly what I'm trying to say. You don't need to try, because you already are." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt held up a hand to silence him. "Sweet, simple things are just as romantic as the grand ones. Sometimes even more so."

Blaine thought about it, trying to understand what Kurt meant. He thought back to when he had taken Kurt's hand and led him through the hall all those months ago, and the way Kurt's face had lit up. He thought back to all of those trips to The Lima Bean, to all those shared cookies and orders of biscotti. To all the times when Blaine had brought Kurt his coffee when the other boy was running late. To all of the late night whispered phone calls about interests they didn't share with anyone else. Blaine thought back to all of the simple, but sweet moments that he had shared with Kurt, and he guessed that if they had been enough to get someone as incredibly remarkable as Kurt to fall for him at one point in time, then they would be more than enough for anyone else.

Kurt was smiling at him knowingly, as if he could hear everything he was thinking. It took Blaine a moment to realize that he had been smiling, too.

"So…" he started, still smiling, but not really sure what to say.

"So," Kurt repeated, "don't try so hard. Your smile alone is enough to make anyone go week in the knees. Throw in a compliment and you'll need a dustpan, because you just swept them off their feet."

"Okay," Blaine said, nodding and making a mental note of Kurt's words. Then something suddenly occurred to him. "So, would you say that's the same with you and being sexy?" he asked, causing Kurt to stiffen slightly at the thought. Not entirely uncomfortably so, though; Blaine could tell that Kurt was trying to decipher his meaning. "That maybe you were just trying to hard, instead of just being yourself?"

Kurt blushed. "I'm not exactly the sexiest person alive when I'm being myself, Blaine," he replied, and Blaine was about to retort, but just one look at Kurt, and he knew he'd made his point. Kurt's face was still tinted faintly pink and he was diverting his gaze to the floor, but there was also a slight twinge of realization in his eyes. And Blaine was satisfied with that.

"Are we finished, then?" He asked after a short while. "Or…?"

"Not quite." Kurt shook his head, suddenly professional again, and handed Blaine back the brush. "Could you go put this back on the vanity?"

Kurt occupied himself with finding something on his bookshelf while Blaine returned the hairbrush to its rightful place. On his way back to the bed, he was distracted by something half-covered by a book on Kurt's nightstand. Reaching out to move the book away, Blaine saw that the something was actually some things, and that those things were a couple of pamphlets. After checking to make sure Kurt's back was still turned to him, he picked them up. One look at the title of the first one told him all he needed to know:

"BOYS will be BOYS: Safer Sex Tips for Young Gay Men."

Blaine's eyebrows morphed into their triangles as they skyrocketed upward. Did this mean that Kurt had actually taken it upon himself to get educated about sex? It was awfully quick, though. And Kurt had still been showing an unwillingness to talk about it. It just didn't make any sense.

"Oh my god."

Blaine's head snapped back up and he saw Kurt giving him a look of complete mortification, one hand rising up to cover his mouth.

"Can we just… pretend you didn't find those?" Kurt asked, so much desperation in his voice.

"Oh, um… okay," Blaine said, "I can definitely do that, if you want."

"I want," Kurt agreed, "I want very much." There was a pause before either of them spoke again, both standing awkwardly, not sure what to say or who should say it first. Then Kurt hurried forward to take the pamphlets from Blaine. "My dad, he… he decided to give me the talk last night," Kurt explained, speaking very fast and not looking Blaine in the eye. "So, I… I just put them there. I haven't really found a place for them, and…" he trailed off hopelessly. Kurt shoved the pamphlets inside the drawer of his nightstand before sitting down on his bed, shoulders tensed again.

Blaine's eyebrows shot up once more. So, Kurt's dad had actually listened to Blaine that day? Did that mean he wasn't angry with him? Blaine didn't stay long enough to find out. He figured that he'd crossed enough boundaries in for one day and should leave before he ended up shooting himself in the foot. But maybe, just maybe, he hadn't completely screwed something up this time?

He slowly moved over to Kurt and sat beside him, wanting to say something to make him relax again. But he also wanted Kurt to know how he felt about it, and that there was nothing at all wrong you're your father looking after you like this. Quite the opposite, actually.

"That was really cool of him, Kurt," he said, quite honestly. "You're... you're really lucky, you know. That you have a dad who would do that for you." Maybe there was a little too much emotion in his voice, but he didn't care. Kurt was damn lucky to have Burt Hummel for a father, and Blaine felt like he needed to tell him that.

Kurt looked up, some of the pink tinge gone from his face. "I know," he said simply, biting his bottom lip and staring at his hands folded neatly in his lap.

Blaine knew he probably should have just dropped the topic there, but he couldn't help it-- his curiosity got the better of him. "How did it go?" he asked hesitantly.

"Honestly?" Kurt began, then shrugged one shoulder. "Not that bad. But come on," he said suddenly, "We're not finished with your training." He stood up and walked past Blaine, back to the spot on the bookshelf he had been at earlier.

"'Training'?" Blaine repeated, grin returning now that Kurt seemed more at ease. "You make it sound so rigorous."

"Well, let's just say you need a lot of help," Kurt shot back, sitting back down next to Blaine with a notebook and pen in hand.

"I resent that," Blaine replied, but his tone suggested otherwise. He didn't resent it. Not really. He actually liked how Kurt felt comfortable enough to tease him and call him out, because it meant that Kurt was comfortable around Blaine. So, he didn't mind the jokes and mock insults so much.

Most of them were true, anyway.

"Resent it or not-- it won't make any difference. It's the truth," Kurt teased, nodding mournfully. Then he shoved the notebook into Blaine's hands. "Here-- I want you to write down a list of some songs that you think would be acceptable to sing to someone after a few dates."

Blaine picked up the pen and chewed on it as he thought. I was an old habit that just wouldn't die, and it was at the point where it was so second-nature that half the time he didn't even realize he was doing it. Kurt didn't seem to mind, though, so he didn't stop-- it helped him think. And he really needed to think right now, if he didn't want to come up with another 'When I Get You Alone'.

He took the pen in his hand and placed it on the open notebook, poised to write.

"Katy Perry isn't an acceptable option, Blaine," Kurt said, right as Blaine thought of a song.

"I wasn't going to write that!" he defended himself, but Kurt was one ahead of him.

"Neither is Britney Spears."

Okay, now that was just freaky.

 
 
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