After hanging out that afternoon, Kurt and Blaine started to see each other regularly. Being with Blaine just felt so… right to Kurt somehow, sometimes even better than being with Rachel, which was saying something—she was his best friend, after all.

Kurt unlocked the door to his apartment, where he was sure Andrew would be awaiting his arrival. He wasn't surprised to find him there.

"Where have you been? School ended about three hours ago," Andrew said as he raised an eyebrow at Kurt, who had a very wide grin on his face as he came through the door. The reason he hadn't broken up with his so-called boyfriend yet was because now that he was having coffee with Blaine, Andrew didn't drive him as crazy. Every time he told himself, "Today is the day," his chat with his old friend would erase that idea out of his mind. And ever since he'd told Blaine about Andrew, he'd tell Kurt to be patient and give the guy some more time. That seemed to influence him more than he let on.

"Oh, I met up with an old friend," Kurt said, still smiling, as he set his newest Marc Jacobs bag on the kitchen table.

"And you couldn't have called me?" Andrew asked, anger lacing with his voice. Kurt sighed through his nose.

"No," he responded, turning back to him. "No, I didn't think I needed to because I'm not even that late."

"But you are my boyfriend, Kurt!" Andrew snapped.

"Yes, BOYFRIEND!" Kurt screamed the word with such an emphasis that Andrew seemed to be taken aback. "God, Andrew, stop treating me like I'm your slave! You don't need to know my every move!"

Andrew stood his ground. "Yes, I do! Was that old friend a guy, by any chance?"

"What kind of question is that? It's none of your fucking business!" Kurt screeched. Fury was starting to replace the blood in his veins.

"You were! You were with someone else, weren't you? If you're cheating on me, you might as well tell me now!"

"For God's sake, I am not cheating on you!" He slammed his hands down on the kitchen table, right next to his bag. "You may not realize this, you idiot, but I'm not the kind of guy that would go out with someone else at the same time as he's in a relationship," he said through clenched teeth. "He's just a friend I met five years ago, recently encountered again, and have been having coffee with for the past few days! And by the way—" Kurt paused to catch his breath. "If I didn't want to be with you anymore, I'd break up with you, not cheat on you!"

"Then why are you around him so fucking much? Like you said, I'm your boyfriend, NOT him! Catch up if you must, but let me know where you are!" Andrew yelled back at him.

"You know what? I'm sick of this." Kurt threw his hands into the air. Suddenly, his mind was plagued by his own voice telling himself, It's over, it's over, get it over with, it's over. Every chat with Blaine was momentarily erased, being replaced by his anger and fury and desperation. He pointed at Andrew. "We're done. I'm so tired of you telling me where I can and can't go and who I can and can't hang out with. I'm not your possession, Andrew! Get your stuff and get the fuck out!"

"Kurt, you can't be serious! I love you!" Andrew said as his eyes widened. Kurt wondered if it was wrong to feel slightly satisfied at his shock.

"Oh, I'm serious! I've been trying to find a way to do this for months, Andrew, and I hadn't figure out how." But now he had. "Get out!"


"GET OUT!" Kurt screamed.

Andrew's eyes widened once again as he walked out of the kitchen. Kurt stayed in his place, his fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles whitened. He could hear Andrew scurrying around the apartment as he tried to get all of his belongings. He didn't care how long it took him—he only wanted the guy out of his life.

Andrew finished packing an hour and a half later. He stood by the door, looking at Kurt, who was on his feet in front of him, one last time. "I hope you find someone you can love as much as I love you."

Kurt shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. "I won't… because all you ever did was try to control my life, not love me. And I don't wish that to anyone."

Andrew nodded, trying to remain strong as he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him. Kurt let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He turned to the wall beside him and slammed his head against it in a mixture of relief and rage. It was over. It was finally over.

Picking up his phone, he didn't know who to call first, Rachel or Blaine. He rubbed his temple with his free hand. Should it be a question? He was supposed to call his best friend first, wasn't he? And Rachel had asked him to give him details the day he had coffee with her, before finding Blaine.

So why was his thumb hovering above Blaine's number rather than Rachel's?

He looked down at the phone, reluctantly hitting the call button with his fingertip.

Blaine was crossing the door to his small, single man apartment when his phone rang. The screen said "Kurt Hummel." He smiled to himself. True, he'd been drinking coffee with Kurt not two hours ago, but talking to him was always somewhat of a… blessing? No, not exactly. He didn't have a word for it, but he knew that talking to Kurt was always good. His body felt lighter and it was as if he could walk on clouds.

Which was completely normal. A friend could make you feel like that, right? Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey!" he answered cheerfully, kicking his shoes off in the entryway.

"Um, Blaine, hey," Kurt said a bit awkwardly. Blaine frowned. What was up with that sad voice?

"Kurt? Everything okay?"

"I…" Kurt paused for a second. Then he took a deep breath and continued. "I'm sorry I'm calling, especially now, at this time," he said. "But I was wondering if you're free to go get some coffee or something? I know we went earlier—" He paused again, and Blaine wondered if something had happened with… what was his name? Adam? Andy? "I need to do something to get my mind off things." He heard Kurt sigh.

To be perfectly honest, Blaine wouldn't mind going to the coffee shop again. He knew that if he wanted Kurt to talk about whatever had occurred, he couldn't do it over the phone.

And suddenly he was remembering a conversation he'd had with a friend of his, Nick, that had come to New York a long time ago. "If you ever need to just let out all the stress and dance until you drop," he'd told Blaine, "there's this bar—I can't remember what it's called. A gay bar Jeff and I went to." Nick had written down the address of the bar and handed it to Blaine. "Good music, no slurs, no bullying… a nice place to just go out and have fun. And who knows? Maybe you'll meet your Prince Charming on the dance floor."

He had to have that address somewhere…

"Actually," he said, the phone still pressed to his ear. "I might know of a better place than a coffee shop to get your mind off everything."

"And what place might that be?" Kurt asked. Blaine held back a laugh at the scepticism in his voice.

"If I could tell you its name, I would," he answered truthfully. "However, you're going to have to trust me on this one. What's your address? I'll pick you up."

Wait, what? What the hell was he thinking? Didn't that make him sound a bit creepy? No, it didn't. Not at all. Ugh, Blaine hated these moments—when there were two tiny voices in his head. One of them telling him to keep doing what he was doing and the other one basically smacking him with a rolled-up newspaper at the same time as it screamed, What is wrong with you?

But friends went to bars together, right? They didn't need to be together to go to a bar, they could go, have a few drinks, maybe they would get lucky and find someone to have a little fun with for the night… It isn't creepy in the least, so shut up.

"So, what do you say?" Blaine asked, realizing Kurt hadn't answered him.

"I… I think that's an amazing idea." He sighed in relief, picturing Kurt's lips tilting up into a smile—a very beautiful smile.

After Kurt told him where to pick him up, they hung up. Blaine was almost ashamed at the way he threw his fist into the air in victory.


Pulling into the bar, Blaine parked the car as close as he could to the entrance. He knew that things could get a little crazy, and he decided to be prepared for any scenario.

He looked over at Kurt as they both stepped out of the car. "Ready?"

Kurt nodded, looking up at the name of the bar, but not really paying attention to it. He didn't care much for what this place was called. They showed their I.D.s to the man in the front entrance before walking inside.

To be honest, Kurt had never gone to a bar. He'd never gone to one when he was still living in Lima because he was a minor, and the concept of a fake I.D. had always been a little terrifying for him to attempt to use one. And since he moved to New York, he'd been either with Rachel or controlled by Andrew: the former said that if she ever went to a bar, it'd be with her special someone (in other words, not Kurt). The latter never gave Kurt any time to go by himself.

He was slightly surprised by the insanely large crowd occupying the dance floor while another almost equally large crowd kept to the bar, drinking what Kurt could only say was alcohol.

Looking around once, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand—hoping it wasn't too much—and pulled him to sit on a stool at the bar. "What will you be having?"

"Something strong." Kurt sighed, exhausted.

"Anything in special?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "I don't know a thing about drinking."

Blaine looked at the bartender and smiled. "A rum and a coke, please." The bartender nodded as he started fixing their drinks. "So," Blaine said as the bartender handed Kurt his drink, and he took a sip of his own, a beer. "Are you gonna tell me what brought this on?"

"What? Wanting to get away?" Kurt asked, gulping down half of his coke. Blaine simply nodded his head, waiting for Kurt to reply. Kurt didn't feel like talking about this, but he figured he probably owed Blaine an explanation. He took another drink, which finished off his coke, and sighed through his nose. "I finally broke up with Andrew," he said, looking up at Blaine, who told the bartender to bring Kurt a brandy. "But that was after he accused me of cheating on him."

Kurt smiled while the bartender handed him his second glass, which he swallowed half of as well. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down. Maybe Kurt was drinking too fast, especially since this was his first time doing so—no, screw "maybe," he knew he was drinking too fast—but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"He did what?" Blaine had shock written across his face when Kurt turned back to him.

"Ah, it was bound to happen," he answered, leaning his chin on his crossed arms over the bar table. "He got jealous because I was getting coffee with you and he thought I was cheating on him."

"I'm… I'm sorry," Blaine said, his voice falling a little.

"No, no, no, I want to thank you, as a matter of fact," Kurt said, a cocky smile pulling at his lips. "You've no idea of how glad I am that he's finally left my life."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I know he was kind of extremist, but aren't you supposed to enjoy your time with someone you're with?"

Kurt chuckled. "Not when they're as controlling as Andrew."

Blaine nodded while taking another sip of his drink. "Are you okay? I mean, you said you are, but you must have wanted to come out for some reason."

Kurt was silent for a moment. At first he'd thought he only wanted to get away from the place where he and his ex had been living together, and yet now he realized that wasn't all he'd wanted. "I want a fun night out," he confessed. "I just got out of a relationship, aren't I allowed to have fun?" He asked as he downed the rest of his third—was this the third drink? The fourth? Fifth?

Blaine's smile turned into a smirk. "Well, let's have some fun, then." He held out his hand. "Dance with me."

Although it wasn't a question, Kurt nodded, but he kept a death grip on his glass until the bartender reached for it. He yelled a loud, "Thanks!" before following Blaine to the dance floor.

Dancing to a song that neither knew the name of, they both smiled as they let loose, drinking and talking, but mostly dancing—far apart from each other, not the kind of dirty-dancing other people were practicing. Kurt had drink after drink, and soon even Blaine lost count of how much his friend had had. Another brandy later—how many had he had now?—Blaine smiled at him, not quite as drunk as Kurt, but still drunk enough that he was stumbling a little.

Looking up at Kurt, the atmosphere suddenly changed, and his next sentence was coming out before he could stop it. "Want to get out of here?" he asked, not exactly sure of what he was expecting as an answer.

Kurt, apparently, was too alcohol-dazed to wonder Blaine's question. He nodded excitedly, his head moving so quickly it looked like it might fall. "Let'sgoBlaineeee!" he cried out, as if his words were all slurred together, wrapping an arm around Blaine's neck to support himself. Blaine put a hand on his back to keep him standing, and they both made their way to the front entrance of the bar.