"Kurt, don't you miss him?"

He glared over his script at her.

"That's not the line, Rachel."

"See? You already know them perfectly! Now, let's talk about you and Blaine."

"I- I don't have time."

"You know he'll never do anything bad ever again?"

He scowled at her.

"I have some stretches to do. Leave me alone, Rachel."

She sulked for an hour, but he kept ignoring her.

"Hey, lady, phone call." Kurt looked up from his book in confusion, and put his hand out to take the phone from Santana. "Okay. Go," she hissed into the phone.

"Kurt? Hey, hombre, it's Puckerman."

"Puck? Um. Hi?"

"How's New York? How's that fancy school? Are you and Blaine back together yet?"

"Goodbye, Puck."

He handed the phone back to Santana who started shouting something down the phone in Spanish. He knew for a fact Puck won't understand it any better than he did.

"Rachel-Berry-I'm-going-to-strangle-you-"

"Take him back take him back take him back take him back take him back."

He shrugged his jacket on, grabbed his keys and slid the door shut in her face. He received a text thirty seconds later:

From: Rachel Berry

Take him back.

He groaned and switched his phone off.

"Hey, Kurt?"

"Mm?" He carried on making his tea.

"If you wanna date Adam, you have my blessing."

He looked to the couch where Santana was lounging, flipping absent-mindedly through a magazine.

"Oh. Well, thanks, I guess."

"It's probably better for Blaine this way."

He raised an eyebrow at her, turning away from the pot. There was enough heat bubbling in his stomach without adding actual boiling water to the situation.

"Excuse me?"

She could barely keep the smirk from her lips, but she kept her tone even.

"Well, I think he was always more into you than you were him. I swear all that boy ever did at school was make heart eyes at you, and you wouldn't even kiss him in public. I don't think I ever saw your shoulders touching."

"Santana, do you even remember McKinley? Do you remember the homophobic assholes we used to go to school with? Excuse me for not wanting to get Blaine's and my ass kicked every day."

"Hmm. Whatever you say. You said you wanted to move on; I'm just supporting you. Put him out of his misery."

"Is this a joke?"

She glanced at him, the epitome of innocence.

"What? I'm being nice."

"How dare you, Santana. How dare you question the way I felt about Blaine."

"I just-"

"I adored him! I love that boy with all of my heart! Maybe I don't throw it all out there and maybe I didn't slobber all over him like Rachel and Finn and maybe I didn't discuss our sex life with the whole Glee club like you and Brittany! I'm sorry if I prefer to keep that stuff private! I'm sorry if that's just how I am, Santana, but don't you ever suggest that what we had was anything less than love."

She wanted to point out the present tense of 'love', but she saw tears in his eyes and realised she'd taken it too far.

"Kurt, I'm sorry-"

"Forget it."

He left the tea and slunk into his room, yanking his phone from his pocket. When Blaine answered, he was breathless.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"Why are you out of breath?"

"Oh, Cheerio practise."

Kurt blinked for a second.

"Wha- right, we're coming back to that. I just- was I a terrible boyfriend?"

"What? Gosh, no, of course not!"

"I mean, you always knew, didn't you, that I love you? That I care about you, Blaine, so much, more than anything in the world?"

"Yes, Kurt. I knew. I know."

Twenty minutes later, Kurt came back into the living room and Santana looked up at him, a hint of apology in her eyes.

"Don't. Say. A word."

She nodded and he flopped down next to her on the couch. After a second, he leaned on her shoulder, taking her arm and linking his fingers with hers. She frowned, not used to this from him, especially not after a fight. She looked down and saw a soft smile on his face.

"He's your boyfriend again, isn't he?"

Kurt nodded, smearing a tear on her sleeve with a quiet sniff.

"Now make me another tea. Mine'll be too cold by now."

She took a breath, feeling the rising urge to refuse, but she couldn't.

"Kay. As long as we don't have to watch Moulin Rouge again."

"It's okay. Don't need to. I'll see if Jersey Shore's on."

As she was rolling her eyes, Rachel bustled in with arms full of shopping bags. She saw Kurt curled up on the sofa and stared wide-eyed at Santana.

"Did you-"

"Shut up, Berry. But yes."

Kurt looked back to see what they were talking about, only to find Rachel giving a very smug Santana fifty dollars.

"I hate you both."

They both smiled at him. He could hate them as much as he wanted, as long as he realised how much he loved Blaine.