"Sexified…" Kurt shivered a little just remembering the way Blaine said that word—as if he was truly excited by the prospect. Kurt, on the other hand, was terrified. He wasn't sure why the Warblers needed to be sexier, anyway—as far as he was concerned, every performance with Blaine as the lead was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Blaine seemed to have a natural talent for making love to an audience with his eyes. But, he couldn't very well use that logic to dissuade Blaine, (" you single-handedly sexify the Warblers way beyond anything I saw in New Directions. We don't have to worry…"), so now he was stuck trying to figure out how to be sexy for their impromptu performance of "Animal."

Kurt had never thought about being sexy. Glamorous, maybe. Elegant, sure. But sexy? Were sixteen year old boys supposed to know how to be sexy?

He sat a school computer, silently giving thanks for all the SafeSearch filters on the web-browser, and typed in "Sexy Animal." As images began loading, he winced. There were a whole lot more boobs on the screen than he expected, but at least they were covered, mostly with leopard print spandex. He tried to ignore all the exposed skin and focus on poses and facial expressions. When he stumbled on a photo of what looked like an elephant mask, only it wasn't on someone's face, it was hanging off a guy's hips, Kurt quickly hit the home button and started over.

And that's when inspiration hit. Sexy. Animal. Kurt typed "Cats musical" into the search engine and began studying the photos from musical productions all over the world. Granted, with all the make-up it was a little hard to tell exactly what facial expressions these actors were making, but it was a place to start.

Blaine felt especially flattered to get phone numbers because he knew "Animal" had not been his best performance. He'd been completely distracted by Kurt. He'd never seen Kurt perform like this before. Kurt usually blended seamlessly into the Warblers' choreography, but today he stuck out like a sore thumb.

It wasn't all bad. Blaine was partly distracted by how cute Kurt looked when his dancing was loose and playful, but the expressions on his face made it look like he was in pain the whole time. Was he that nervous about finally having some solo lines?

In any case, he was glad Kurt was still primping when the girls left, so he could find out what was up.

"Are you okay? You kept making these weird faces all through the song..."

"Those weren't weird faces. Those were my sexy faces." Kurt looked so pleased with himself that Blaine winced a little. This was embarassing.

"It just looked like you were having gas pains or something." Why didn't Kurt realize he didn't need to try so hard to be sexy? Blaine just didn't get it. Didn't Kurt know? Sexy is having the self-respect to confront a friend about his shameless flirting and call it what it is. Sexy is pulling off leather pants in a well-lit room. Sexy is having the courage to be yourself, no matter what. Kurt was hands-down the sexiest person Blaine had ever met, and here he was, thinking he had to make squinchy faces to be sexy?

"Great. How are we supposed to get up on the stage at regionals and sell "sexy" to the judges when I have as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a baby penguin!" Blaine did not miss the fact that Kurt was now avoiding eye contact. He couldn't believe how stupid this was. Now Kurt thought he had no sexual appeal? This was definitely movement in the wrong direction.

When he replied, "We'll figure something out," Blaine had no idea what they would figure out, but he knew he wanted to fix this, somehow.

On the way to Kurt's house after school, Blaine briefly considered helping Kurt access his sexy by making him feel sexy. He caught himself imagining what it might feel like to kiss Kurt—to hold his neck and mess up his hair just a little. No! he thought, that wouldn't be fair to Kurt. Kurt has basically accused me of leading him on already, and kissing him now would definitely be crossing that line, again. At least, that's what Blaine thought Kurt had been saying on Valentine's Day. He'd analyzed it a lot—way too much, probably—and while Kurt's actual words had been "I thought the guy you wanted to ask out on Valentine's Day was me," Blaine was pretty sure (mostly sure) that what Kurt really meant was, "I hoped it was me," or maybe even "I wanted it to be me."

So, ever since Valentine's Day, Blaine had been worried about sending Kurt the wrong signals, because, as much as he cared about Kurt (and he really did—more than anyone), Kurt just wasn't his type. Blaine knew his type: strong, confident, a straight-talker. Someone who could access his emotions, but wasn't controlled by them. Someone with a sense of humor and a good laugh. Blaine knew that he could kind of be a brat, sometimes—Wes and David never let him forget it—and he wanted to be with someone strong enough to call him out on that—someone who would be kind and gentle, but also wouldn't let him get away with acting like the worst version of himself.

And Kurt… well, besides the fact that Blaine couldn't get past the feeling that Kurt was fragile—that he might crumble at any moment under the wrong look, and that his own job was to protect Kurt from the harsh, dangerous world—besides that, it kind of felt like Kurt worshipped the ground he walked on, and while it was flattering, it wasn't what Blaine was looking for in a boyfriend. Blaine wanted to be with someone who was strong enough to handle his flaws.

And last week, when Blaine exposed some of those flaws by kissing and then "dating" Rachel, it sure didn't seem like Kurt could handle it. He still wanted Blaine to be his perfect gay jedi-master. If Blaine was perfectly honest with himself, the part of his argument with Kurt that hurt him the most was when he asked Kurt why he was so angry and Kurt's response was, "Because I look up to you." If Kurt had said it was simple jealousy, he could have handled that. He would have been flattered, and he may have even canceled that stupid date to protect Kurt's feelings. But no. Kurt was upset because Blaine wasn't living up to the perfect gay-mentor role. If that's how Kurt reacted when Blaine let his walls down and exposed his own insecurities and confusion, then Kurt was not the guy Blaine was looking for.

So, kissing Kurt was most definitely out of the question. If Kurt needed him to be a perfect mentor, well, that's just what he would have to be: Jedi-master to the rescue.

And Blaine was quite confident that he could handle this lesson—Kurt, after all, didn't really need to learn how to be sexy—he just needed more confidence that he already was sexy. The trick would be helping Kurt gain that confidence without sending Kurt the wrong message.

As he thought back to all the times when he'd seen Kurt be sexy, his thoughts lingered on some of the looks Kurt threw over his shoulder when they practiced "Baby, It's Cold Outside" before Christmas. How could he get Kurt to recapture those looks—those come-hither side-glances? That would definitely be the place to start.

Kurt took a deep breath before getting out of his car. He had no clue what to expect from this "sexy lesson." Of course, all the way home his mind had been preoccupied with visions of steamy kisses and wandering hands and dirty whispers, but as he pulled into the driveway, noticing that Blaine was still right behind him he realized he needed to pull himself together. Blaine was most definitely not going to ravish him today. He probably had some nice, condescending lesson planned that would make Kurt feel even more inexperienced and humiliated. But, he could have said "no, I don't need the help, thank you very much," and he didn't. He was so freaking desperate to spend time with Blaine, that even humiliation seemed worth it.

After Blaine's gay-epiphany when Rachel kissed him sober, both boys had moved on, pretty much pretending their fight never happened. As much as it pained him to think back on Blaine's brief interest in Rachel, Kurt found himself replaying that fight in his mind again and again, realizing that he had seen a vulnerable side of Blaine that day—a side that had only peeked out a couple of times around Valentine's Day—a side that had most definitely not made an appearance since the fight, when (Kurt winced at the memory) Kurt essentially trampled over all of Blaine's insecurities. No, ever since that afternoon when Rachel left Kurt holding Blaine's place in line, all Kurt had seen was the strong, confident "Mentor Blaine." He could feel that this role was really a bunch of walls that Blaine was really using to protect himself, and Kurt worried that he'd screwed up his only chance of getting past those walls to the real Blaine.

But even strong, confident, closed-off Blaine was better than no Blaine. Kurt sighed, and stepped out of his car, where Blaine met him with a confident smile.

"Ready?" he asked. Kurt nodded.

"Sure." Kurt led the way into the house, noting that no one else appeared to be home. That was a relief. He didn't need his dad to overhear Blaine teaching him how to be sexy.

"We're going to need a mirror. You have one in your room, right?" Blaine hung his coat and scarf up on the coat tree with Kurt's, and Kurt nodded again.

"Yup. I do." And Kurt led the way upstairs, trying desperately not to think about how the last time Blaine came to his room, Kurt had practically carried him up these stairs and then slept in bed next to him.

In his room, Kurt gestured toward the vanity and Blaine walked right over, plopping himself down on the stool.

"This is perfect," Blaine gushed and patted the open half of the bench. "Sit here."

Kurt swallowed and tried not to roll his eyes. This was not going to be fun.

"Alright, so give me 'sensual,' but don't make fun of it, like, really try."

Blaine held his face in a neutral expression as Kurt made a strange, pained face into the mirror. That was not at all what Blaine was going for. He thought back to the flirty looks Kurt made during their duet, and tried to come up with a different word.

"Okay… now give me 'sultry.'"

Nope. That didn't work, either, and Blaine couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how difficult Kurt seemed to be making this.

"Um… Kurt, they're all… all sort of looking the same…" Blaine tried to lighten the mood a little, but Kurt's voice was more serious than ever as he looked Blaine in the eye through the mirror and responded.

"That's because the face I'm actually doing is 'uncomfortable.'"

Blaine stifled his giggle and watched as Kurt stood and moved a few paces away.

"This is pointless, Blaine," Kurt continued, "I don't know how to be sexy because I don't know the first thing about sex." Kurt had turned to face Blaine, again, raising his arms in an exasperated shrug, and Blaine couldn't help but grin at the adorable flush creeping up Kurt's neck, onto his cheeks.

"Kurt, you're blushing!" Blaine didn't even attempt to hide his amusement, while Kurt blundered on.

"I've tried watching those movies," Kurt gave Blaine a pointed look, so that Blaine had no doubt what those movies were, and the rest of Kurt's rant went right over Blaine's head. His eyes glazed over a little as he absorbed the idea that Kurt had watched porn. Gay porn. He didn't know whether to be turned on, or stunned that Kurt went looking in the first place, or horrified that Kurt turned to porn for information about sex. He vaguely registered that Kurt's reaction to said porn involved something about disappointed mothers, and he forced himself to tune back in as Kurt blurted, "…and why would you get that tattooed there?"

Blaine tried to regain his sense of control by resuming his familiar jedi-master Blaine role. The game had changed—"sexy lessons" were out the window, and Blaine tried to reorient himself so that he could tackle plain old "sex." He pulled his feet up onto Kurt's bench, so that he could face Kurt directly and suggested, "Then, maybe we should have a conversation about it. I can tell you what I know." Honestly, Blaine had no idea what he would say, or how he would talk to Kurt about sex without sounding like a complete idiot, but this is what mentors do, right? Help. Fix things. He could fix this.

"No," Kurt jumped in quickly, "I…I don't want to know the graphic details. I like romance." Blaine gaped at the shy, sweet expression on Kurt's face. "That's why I like Broadway musicals. Because the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets."

Blaine briefly noted that if Kurt considered fingers an erogenous zone, that would explain why he thought Blaine was sending mixed signals. Then Blaine had a sudden, inexplicable vision of some faceless bastard touching and kissing and licking Kurt until he was a puddle of ignorant, innocent compliance. His stomach churned at the thought.

"Kurt, you're going to have to learn about it someday."

"Well, not today." Kurt's tone sounded final. "I think I've learned quite enough for today, thank you. I think you should leave."

Blaine stared at Kurt for a fraction of a second, wondering if Kurt was angry with him. He stood and walked past Kurt in silence. All the way down the stairs, Blaine was kicking himself, internally. He totally blew it. Instead of helping, he just made things worse. And now he was totally going to be haunted by visions of faceless strangers taking of advantage of Kurt. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, pulled on his coat, and let himself out the front door, feeling defeated.

Kurt stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed until he heard the front door close behind Blaine. Then he turned around and fell back onto the bed in frustration. What had he done? Totally and completely humiliated himself—that's what. He couldn't believe he talked to Blaine about porn! It's not like he'd even watched much. Five minutes of one of those tapes Rachel smuggled from her Dads' cabinet had been more than enough. Kurt returned the tapes the same night he borrowed them, horrified to even have them in his room overnight.

Blaine must think he's such an idiot—a frigid, naïve, baby penguin of an idiot. Kurt felt every one of his long-cherished dreams of Blaine touching and kissing and holding him die a messy, painful death, squashed under the weight of today's humiliation. Blaine would never see him as anything more than a friend—an ignorant, asexual friend.

He needed to steel himself up for school tomorrow. He needed to sweep all these dead, mangled dreams out of his heart and salvage his pride. He needed to be ready to face Blaine, believing that being friends would be enough, from here on out. But first, he needed to cry.