A/N: Yikes! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry times one million and ten chocolate chip cookies. I have this new job which has been basically killing me, in the best way possible, but it leaves me going to bed at like 8 o'clock every night with no energy whatsoever to spare. I feel awful about the delay and about how many of you darling people have let me know you're still here, eagerly awaiting more. So here, have a very very mini chapter to tide you over and I will try my very very best to get something more substantial up SOON. I'm sorry lovelies, I hope you haven't abandoned me! I will try harder! xoxox always

Come along with me to my little corner of the world
Dream a little dream in my little corner of the world
You'll soon forget that there's any other place
Tonight, my love, we'll share a sweet embrace
And if you care to stay in my little corner of the world
We could hide away in my little corner of the world
I always knew that I'd find someone like you
So welcome to my little corner of the world

-My Little Corner of the World: Yo La Tengo

Their own little world didn't last for long. It was Kurt who woke up first, rolling over and finding himself startled to discover another sleeping form in his bed. It took him a second for all the day's events to resurface through the fog in his brain. Blaine. He had slept with Blaine. God he had more accurately made love to Blaine. He had never even let anybody nap in his bed after sex, much less whatever this had been.

He felt a little queasy; what little food he had consumed at the coffee shop threatening to erupt from his stomach.

Kurt shifted toward the edge of the bed, unable to ignore the skip in his chest at the pleasing way Blaine's curls lay gently down over his forehead- mussed and in disarray from their activities. He shuffled over to his clothes anyway, picking up each article and carefully, quietly, redressing.

"Mmm Kurt?" A sleep-addled mumble came from beneath the white comforter of Kurt's bed, Blaine's hand groping at the empty space next to him.

He squinted his eyes open. "You're up."

"I am," Kurt responded matter-of-factly.

"You're dressed."

Kurt glanced at his socked feet, briefs and undershirt also snugly in place. "Just about."

"Planning on sneaking out? I gotta say that's pretty low, even for you Hummel. This is your own house."

"Knock it off," Kurt said, somewhat irritably. "I just wanted some air."

"Sure you did."

Blaine got up then too, letting the covers slide off of him so his naked body was in full view of Kurt. Kurt couldn't help but stare, his mouth watering a bit involuntarily, and Blaine knew it. It pissed Kurt off.

Blaine reached for his own clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving," Blaine answered as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not playing this game with you Kurt. We slept together- like really slept together- and it meant something okay, and I just- no. If you want to pretend like it didn't mean anything, then I'm done. I'm tired of half-assing this shit with you Kurt. Either we're together or we aren't."

"What the fuck?"

"I think you heard and understood what I said perfectly fine Kurt," Blaine answered coldly as he tugged on his socks.

"Blaine you can't- do that." Kurt was staring at Blaine, dumb-founded, stock still in the middle of his bedroom.

"I can and I should've along time ago."

"Come on Blaine." Now Kurt sounded like he was whining. "That was the whole good thing about this; it's not like other relationships. We don't have to make it exclusive or label anything or get all worried about emotions and shit. It's just fun."

"Not for me. This is a big deal for me. I don't just sleep with people, Kurt."

"Quinn!" Kurt tossed at him.

"Is my girlfriend! One who I shouldn't even be dating anymore if we're being completely honest. Do you even- do you even realize what any of this means Kurt? What I'm giving up for you, and what you're in turn throwing back in my face?"

"Blaine, I like you, okay? I like you a lot. Isn't that enough? Isn't that all we need?" If Blaine didn't know any better, he could've almost sworn Kurt sounded frantic.

"It's not enough. Not for me. I'd be coming out for you Kurt. Giving up everything. The least I expect is for you to give me everything in return."

"But that's just it- I'm not asking you to give up anything at all! You can have your stupid girlfriend and your fake heterosexuality with your jackass heterosexual friends and your football team and your popularity. No one's telling you to give any of that up." Kurt had his hands up in the air, looking fully perplexed, helpless, and it was nice, for once, to see him looking unraveled and desperate, like he needed something, like he wasn't perfectly unaffected and in control.

"You really are fucked up pretty bad aren't you?" Blaine asked, a look of deep sympathy passing over his handsome features. He was fully dressed now and on his way out the door, while Kurt remained standing there in his underwear and undershirt and those ridiculous black socks.

"You should probably call Carole. We slept for a while; she's likely worried," Blaine urged as he slipped through the door. It was maddening, how he could act so nonchalant, like this was nothing at all, just acquaintances exchanging niceties, not a…break up.

Because that's what it was, for all intents and purposes, if he let Blaine go now. A break up. And one for a stupid reason at that. Kurt hurdled himself out the door.

The rain had slowed but not stopped, leaving the grass muddy and causing Kurt's bedhead to become matted and dripping against his forehead, his pink cheeks standing out even more against the pale of his skin and the blue of his eyes. His t-shirt clung to him, his socks slipped against the slight incline as he scrambled up the grass after Blaine's retreating figure.

"Wait!"

Blaine turned as he reached his car, his head shrouded by the hood of his coat, face revealing nothing, silent.

"Will you," Kurt stopped for a moment, gasping to catch his breath, the rain trickling from his eyelashes into his eyes, blurring all vision. "Will you go out with me?"

"What?" Blaine yelled. They stood only a few yards from each other, but with the rain and Kurt's breathless tone, he supposed he wasn't so easy to hear.

"Will you go out with me?" he shouted.

Blaine stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed a bit, saying nothing. "What does that even mean?" he returned.

Kurt huffed exasperatedly. "For Christ's sakes Anderson, will you be my boyfriend or not?"

And Blaine smiled then. And it wasn't a fake smile, and it wasn't sarcastic or strained or polite. It was that hundred mega watt, light-up-a-town smile, the one that made Kurt's stomach do gymnastic flips, the one that he often felt might be the reason he was on this earth at all- just to make that smile appear.

And in about two seconds flat he was on Kurt, slip-sliding over the grass to where he stood in his underwear, nearly bowling him over as he sloppily pressed their lips together.

"I swear Kurt Hummel, you'll be the end of me." Blaine said between frantic kisses up and down Kurt's neck, his face, his jaw.

"I make things interesting," Kurt quipped back, unable to keep a smile off his face as Blaine continue to assault him with kisses.