Kurt and Blaine were on their first date in New York together when it happened. They were walking through the park together and, though it was great, there was something off- something in the way Kurt kept talking about the boy he shared an office with.

It was just an offhand remark, but still, Blaine said it. He asked what he'd been thinking all along. "So, is the sex good?"

Without thought or processing, Kurt answered, "Yes, actually. Not as good as…" He slammed his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together violently.

The pair shared a quiet look, still walking as Blaine gathered his thoughts. Finally, after a few more steps, he turned to Kurt, grabbing him by the arms, eyes growing watery as they had in Kurt's bedroom all those months ago. "Seriously," he asked, his heart breaking with every silence.

"I mean… no… well…" Kurt stammered, realizing how deep he'd put his foot in it. He didn't love Clark, but he missed Blaine and he was so lonely. He knew what he'd done and he knew how it would hurt Blaine, but he did it anyway. He muttered a weak "I'm sorry" as the tears burnt angry streaks down his cheeks.

Blaine's hands flew from Kurt, as though the touch itself was what had hurt. He crossed his arms and bounced a bit on his heels. "So, what does that mean for us?"

"Stop, Blaine. That's not fair," Kurt said, knowing full well that it was actually a most fair question.

"Well," Blaine said, looking around the park for a street sign so that he knew which way to run when this didn't end happily, "You cheated on me. You weren't going to tell me. You got me all this way out here under false pretenses. I think, and correct me if I'm wrong," he looked directly back at Kurt, the initial shock gone and replaced with an empty sadness, "but I think that means we're done."

Kurt gaped at him. "Blaine, you don't mean that."

"I do." He laughed bitterly. "Not the meaning I'd meant for that to have, I guess." He pawed the tears away from his eyes. "I'll go back to your apartment. I'll have Rachel let me in. I'll get my stuff and I'll stay in my dad's business apartment." He sniffed, backing away and digging for his cell phone. "I'm sure that will be a fun call."

"Stop, stop!" Kurt screeched, following Blaine and trying to pull him back, being shrugged off with every step. "You're being really mean about this."

"I'm being mean?!" he asked incredulously. "After I'd forgiven you for the whole thing last year. After you made me believe that my fears were unfounded. After making me believe that there was nothing to worry about with this, I'm the one being mean?" he spat, his voice breaking. He turned around, heading back the way they came.

"Blaine, please wait," Kurt begged, screaming into the night. A group of girls with cameras came into the park off the street, blocking his way and allowing Blaine a clean escape. "Blaine!"

The curly haired high schooler hopped into a cab and hardly managed to mew the intersection of Kurt's street and the cross before he was swallowed by his own thoughts.

Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed when the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?

Blaine banged angrily at his phone, digging for Rachel's New York cell phone number. When she didn't answer, he shoved the thing back into his pocket.

He couldn't help himself. Even though he didn't know the other boy, he could imagine him- Tall and slender, perfectly kept short hair, impeccable clothes, oceans for eyes and a perfect red mouth. He would be the perfect companion for Kurt and someone who deserved him.

Then think of what you did and how I hope to God he was worth it when the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin.

But this wasn't the time for that. Now was his time to brood; To wonder what he did wrong. Still, that's not how it works for Blaine.

Blaine knows what he did wrong. He trusted that he could be worth it for someone else. He believed that someone could love him unconditionally and not in a way that was obligatory or self centered.

His father was right, he really was useless.

I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy you'll ever meet.

His mind raced back to his time with Kurt. He wasn't a confident lover by any means, but he had thought that it had been good. He'd felt the sparks. Had Kurt not? Is that what happened? Was he that bad that as soon as Kurt was out of his arms, he was in search of someone else?

Sweetie, you had me.

That was it. It was over. It had to be over. Almost two years down the drain. He'd even changed schools, leaving behind everyone he'd ever known to be with Kurt. That was the kind of faith he'd had in their relationship. And for what? Now he had to go back to Lima and face all of their friends without the option of telling anyone.

Of course he couldn't tell them. They weren't his friends. They were their friends. Maybe, eventually he could tell Sam or maybe Tina, but they'd always take Kurt's side.

Girl I was it. Look past the sweat. A better love deserving of exchanging body heat in the passenger seat.

The cab slowed to a stop at the corner of 85th and Columbus. He handed the driver the cash and silently willed Rachel to come walking down the street to let him into their building. When a girl in a knit beanie with a fishtail braid was walking down the street, he hadn't expected her to turn to the door he needed, and open it. When she did, he stopped and looked at her for a moment, realizing that it was, in fact, Rachel. She noticed him out of the corner of her eye as she was stepping through the door and stopped short, turning back with a smile. "Blaine! Where's Kurt?" she asked, pulling him in for a hug and guiding him through the door.

No no no you know it will always just be me. Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster.

He shook his head sadly and proceeded to the elevator, silently answering her questions before adding a quick "But you know what's wrong, Rachel. I know you do."

She stopped, leaning against the heavy metal door for a moment before it hit her. "Oh, honey, what did he tell you?" She rushed into the elevator, wrapping the man in her arms again.

"Not much," he answered, closing his eyes and suddenly grateful that Rachel didn't hold any hard feelings over their brief and fleeting 'relationship.'

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

The pair sat at the kitchen table, clutching cups of coffee as the boy's luggage sat on the counter. Blaine had, against his better judgement, spilled the whole story to his now-ex's best friend. Still, and surprisingly, she had listened silently, nodding when appropriate and not asking questions until now. The big one. The question even Blaine didn't want to think about. "So, are you two broken up now?"

He shrugged a little, moving his lips closer to his coffee. "I guess, Yeah," he sighed, taking a sip and then putting the porcelain mug down. "Yes, we are."

Rachel, mirrored him, putting her's down as well and sliding her hand across the table, laying it atop his. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I told him to tell you the first time it happened."

"The first time?" Blaine asked, cringing.

Rachel let out a small "Oops." The shock on his face turned her stomach. She hated to be the one to have to do this, but she'd already let it slip and she couldn't let him just wonder. "They're sort of… well, it's a thing." She sighed and looked off at the door, having heard the key in the lock. She stood up and put a friendly hand on his shoulder, moving toward the entrance way, hoping to catch Kurt and turn him away for a little while. They didn't need to see each other like this. "I don't know what it is exactly but it is a thing."

So I guess we're back to us. Oh cameraman, swing the focus. In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off? Let's pick up, pick up.

Kurt stormed into the house, sliding past Rachel and heading directly into the kitchen. "How dare you leave me there?" He walked around the table and leaned over the back of the chair. "I was screaming for you and I didn't know where you went. How dare you do that to me?"

Hazel eyes stared daggers at blue. "Oh, how dare I? How dare you?" He stood up, reaching for his overnight bag on the counter. "How could you do this to me, Kurt? To us?" The aura of the kitchen calmed for a moment as Blaine stopped his own yelling, took a deep breath and stared at the man in front of him. "What happened to 'I'm never saying goodbye to you', huh?" He threw his bag to the side, causing Rachel to jump out of the way. "What difference does it make anyway?" He flopped defeated into the chair.

Kurt rushed to his side. "Blaine, are you kidding me with this? He means nothing to me." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love you."

Clenching his jaw, Blaine hardly voiced the words "A thing?"

"I'm sorry?" The boy asked, stepping back toward the counter and looking up at Rachel in the doorway. Rachel's eyes widened as she backed carefully out of the kitchen.

Blaine stood his ground, turning slowly to face Kurt and asked again, clarifying "Your relationship with him. Would you call it a thing?"

"God damn it, Rachel," he cursed, moving to the girl in the doorway quickly.

"Don't bring me into this," she whined, reaching for Kurt and turning him back to Blaine, the person who deserved to know the real answer

Still, he faced her beore turning around and hissed "You're already in it."

Oh now I do recall, we were just getting to the part where the shock sets in, and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick.

Blaine stood, grabbing his bag and heading for the door, suddenly needing nothing more than to get out. "Your response says it all. You care about him." He managed to get most of the way out of the apartment before turning back to him. "I hope he makes you happy."

I hope you didn't expect that you'd get all of the attention. Now let's not get selfish. Did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus?

When he made it out onto the street, he placed the call he'd been dreading all night. "Dad," he spoke into the receiver.

"What is it Blaine?" The familiar voice on the other end spared no sweetness for the call at such an odd hour.

"Could you have the doorman at your business apartment let me up?" He tried to maintain a calm tone. It wasn't that he didn't want to let on, but he didn't want to hear it from his father.

The line went silent for a moment. "I thought you were staying with him."

"I was, sir," he said quietly, sidestepping around a family of tourists by the park. "But his roommate has her boyfriend there and I can't sleep with all of the noise," he lied.

"Huh," he laughed. "So you do know normal people." When Blaine didn't respond, he merely asked "Just you then?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Kevin'll let you up." Blaine nodded, thankfully, closing his eyes for a moment. "When should he expect you?"

He looked around before he crossed the street. "I'm at the bottom of the park now, so about ten minutes." He crossed to the other side so that he could run the 29 blocks as fast as possible.

This was the way of their conversations. CEO to young intern who always promised things that should have been impossible, but did it anyway. "Fine. Don't expect this to happen every time you go out there."

"I won't, sir," he responded, wishing that he could mention that he wouldn't be going back; that they were over. But that wasn't his father. He thought about Burt, about how the first example of a family he'd ever had had been set by him. And that was gone. He was losing so much more than that.

"Good. Have a nice night, Blaine." His father said, before hanging up.

The line clicked out and Blaine said, "Thanks, dad. I love you," pretending that any of it mattered, before taking off at a sprint down the strangely empty sidewalks.

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster. So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

Blaine pushed his way through the tall glass doors into the cold, lifeless lobby. "Ah, Mister Anderson, I wasn't aware that both of the younger Andersons were in town," the doorman said, offering a key card to Blaine.

Blaine smiled genuinely, surprised to hear that his brother was in town. "Well, neither was I. Thank you, Kevin." He walked for the door of the elevator and laughed a little. At least now Cooper would have his chance to be the big brother. He pushed the button for the seventh floor and let out a strong breath. He took a few steps down the hall to the room tensed before sliding the plastic into the slot and cracking open the door. He closed his eyes and turned into the study, plopping his bag down and calling for his brother. "Coop, you don't have a girl in here, do you?" There was no answer, but a set of footsteps heading his way weren't a steadying sign. "I can leave," he said, not turning from the bookshelf, a mix of not wanting his brother to see him crying and not wanting to see his brother naked, as he knew well that he could have been.

"No, what's up?" Cooper asked, perching himself on their father's desk and tying the string on his pajama pants a bit tighter. "I thought you were staying with Kurt?"

He shrugged and turned to his brother, finally allowing the freshly raw, tear streaked Blaine to be fully revealed. "I was."

A million questions sprang to mind but none would come out. All Cooper could do was tentatively cross the room and wrap his little brother tightly in his arms.

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

The boys had moved their reunion to the small kitchen. Cooper had poured them both drinks and busted out the half gallon of ice cream he'd brought back with him. "So, what happened. Did he hit you?"

Blaine laughed, knowing that Kurt wouldn't have been able to get a shot in if the fight was physical.

"I figured as much… what with the boxing and all." Cooper dug the spoon in and let the ice cream melt into his mouth. "Well, he didn't cheat on you." A small noise drew Cooper's attention to Blaine. "No, seriously?" When Blaine nodded, all the older man could manage was a startled "Is he nuts?"

I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy you'll ever meet. Sweetie you had me.

The brothers talked and drank into the wee small hours of the morning. "He fucked up, right, Coop?" Blaine slurred from where he'd decided to set up camp on the couch.

"You're damn right, B." Cooper didn't know what to say, really. He had never even thought for a moment that this could happen to Blaine. This was the kind of thing that Cooper did to girls. Guys did not do this to his little brother. He flopped into the chair, punctuating the motion with a brash "Fuck 'im."

"I have, thanks. I was going to tonight," he swayed a little, trying to steady the room and then decided to pick a point of focus, the flowers, to speak to instead of trying to find where Cooper had gone. "But he's fucking someone else." He hiccuped and laid back on the couch. "He's fucking someone else. And it's probably better than it ever was with me." He let the room go silent for a moment before "Why am I never good enough, Coop?"

The older man, who was not nearly as drunk as he was acting for the comfort and benefit of his brother, felt his heart break.

Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?

He looked over at his little brother and saw exactly what he meant. The little boy who got made fun of for wanting to play house instead of cops and robbers, who found solace in the local theatre troupe, who got jumped at his first dance, who was now finding that, once again, he wasn't good enough for the man he'd devoted the last 2 years of his life to, just as his father had told him that he'd never be good enough for anyone, least of all to carry on the family name. He moved to the couch and rubbed his, now sobbing, brother's back, trying to calm him down. "You know that's not true, Blaine." He wasn't sure what other hardships his brother had gone through and, suddenly, he found himself regretting every missed call and unanswered email. "Listen to me, you're a good kid," he spoke steadily. "You've had some bad shit happen to you, but the fact that Kurt cheated on you does not mean that you're not good enough." He sighed and leaned back, turning the conversation secretly inward. "It means that Kurt is an asshole. It means that he didn't care enough to tell you that there was anything wrong, to tell you that the distance was too much." He moved to sit on the cocktail table. "It means that you're free to find someone who will love you just as much as you love them."

No, no, no, you know it will always just be me.

The conversation grew silent as the sun rose over Manhattan. Blaine had dozed off. Cooper covered his little brother and smoothed his hand over the top of his head. He walked to the door and scrawled on a piece of paper. "Don't leave before I get back, B. Went to get us breakfast. I'll take you to the airport. Unless you want to stay here which could be cool too. I don't have to be in L.A. until Thursday. -Coop."

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster

It wasn't that he felt obligated to go kick this little punk's ass, but more he felt that Blaine hadn't stayed for the whole story. Granted, he wasn't above the ass-kicking if it became necessary. He made his way up to Central Park before he took his phone out and scrolled, looking for the contac. "Blaine's Kurt." A simple distinction that would have to be changed, pending this conversation. "Meet me by the zoo. We need to talk," he typed.

A few minutes later, the familiar frame came walking up to Cooper. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm in town for an audition." Kurt gave him a small roll of the eyes that clarified that that's not what he meant. "There is a certain little man sleeping drunkenly on the couch in my dad's apartment right now that claims that it's your fault." He crossed his arms as Kurt's face fell. He'd heard stories of Blaine's drunken escapades, and clearly Kurt remembered them all too well.

"It is, it totally is," the younger man scrambled. "I'm an asshole and I ruined everything."

Cooper merely shook his head. He didn't want excuses, he wanted answers. "Did you sleep with this other guy?"

Kurt looked down at the ground, suddenly terribly guilty. "Yes."

"Are you seeing him?" The next obvious question.

"Yes." Kurt wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die.

Cooper closed his eyes, afraid of the next question. "Do you intend to stop?"

There was a moment of silence. "Blaine's so far-"

"Do you. Intend to. Stop?" Cooper repeated.

Kurt grew incredibly offended, crossing his arms and scowling. "You're not pointing, so I don't think you mean it."

"Do YOU." Cooper jabbed his middle and forefinger into Kurt's chest hard. "Intend to stop?" This little boy was really trying his patience.

The younger man stepped back, scared. "I don't know."

"Wrong answer," and with that Cooper walked away, praying that he'd never see this little prick again.

"Why are you doing this, Cooper?" Kurt called after.

"He's my little brother. I didn't think he'd even think to have asked," he answered, stopping for a moment to turn back, "but clearly he didn't have to."

The intern's expression softened. "Where is he?"

"He'll be on his way back to Ohio before you even have the time to realize what you just lost."