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Beginning, Season 1
Kurt (beginning Glee): Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat? Well, I guess we’re trying, and it’s Broadway. Like Rachel “my gold stars are a metaphor for me being a star” Berry would have it any other way. But, don’t we need costumes—and choreography that takes into account a wheelchair and 5 different body types and—ugh!
And I admit it, we need more male voices, though Artie Abrams has a surprisingly soulful growl. I can’t wait to hear him and ‘Cedes together. That is if we ever hear anything except Rachel.
Mr. Schu is enthusiastic enough, I guess. Enthusiastic about Rachel, anyway.
Blaine (beginning Dalton): The brick façade should have looked welcoming, but Blaine had to admit he found it a little intimidating. The high ceilings and these murals in the hallway made him afraid to touch anything. He sat in a probably antique chair in the hallway outside of the head’s office while his parents talked on and on, feeling small and useless.
Boys in blazers or v-neck sweaters passed in groups of two and three. A few times he caught a curious eye, but he ducked his head before they could ask what he was doing here, registering so late in the year.
Beginning, Season 2
Kurt (beginning Dalton): Wow, this place was so beautiful, so different from McKinley despite the ever-present smells, of boy and books. Kurt tugged on the cuffs of his ridiculously stiff cricketer’s jacket, smoothed the gray flannel trousers and his new hairstyle, and stepped through the door to the common room.
He knew some of the Warblers, thanks to Blaine, but it didn’t make joining this crowd of boys—any crowd of boys, really—any less anxiety-producing. He wished that he looked like a guy come to conquer this school, but his wide eyes and flushed cheeks probably made him look 12 years old.
Blaine (beginning to date): He flung himself into his dorm bed, giddy with nerves and joy and relief. Man, that really couldn’t have gone any better! He thought of the softness of Kurt’s mouth, the strength of his biceps as he pulled Blaine close. And mostly the miracle that Kurt hadn’t given up on his sorry ass over all these months.
But now—he had to make it worth it to Kurt. Their first real date—it had to be better than Breadstix. He scrambled to his laptop and pulled up the Lima Calendar. Time to impress his boyfriend with—a maple sugaring festival?
Beginning, Season 3
Kurt (beginning to think of sex): He was in a boy’s room—a gorgeous boy, who right now was dancing around like a total dork. And he was on that boy’s bed—his comfortable, well-made bed that smelled like boy and Blaine’s cologne. So it really shouldn’t have surprised Kurt that he was getting—well, ideas.
Blaine did that silly spin move, and the perfect curve of his ass came into view—Kurt’s stomach tightened in anticipation, and he bit his lip and just watched. They’d been taking it slow, getting to know each others’ bodies, but Kurt knew that he was just about done waiting.
Blaine (beginning to let go): He took a deep breath and stared into his bathroom mirror as he smoothed down his curls. Time for a pep talk, Anderson. You know you can do this, you know that next year will go better if you just…practice…if you get your heart used to missing him.
It was a conclusion he had reached lying in his bed alone as he recovered from his eye injury. The hours stretched long, the house quiet around him, his phone silent on the nightstand. Kurt came over after school, and that was wonderful, but Blaine knew he wouldn’t have that next year.
Beginning, Season 4
Kurt (beginning life in New York): The loft looked enormous at first, as they camped by the one wall by the kitchen. It was sort of fun to nest here with Rachel and to bike around the space. But they needed clothes storage and privacy—and real beds. He might be 19 years old, but the soreness after pounding the pavement for work all day wasn’t much relieved by sleeping on the floor.
So Kurt adapted his days to include thrift shopping for furniture and his evenings to pulling out the sewing machine and creating: privacy curtains and sink valances, all the little touches of home.
Blaine (beginning to heal from the Break Up): “We make a good team, huh?”
Blaine—well, Nightbird, really—turned his head where it rested on the couch in his den to meet Sam’s blue, blue eyes and his tentative smile. Sam still balanced the giant trophy on his lap where he sprawled next to his friend, dapper in the Blonde Chameleon’s Sean Connery tweeds.
“More like, you’re a good friend, Sam.”
“Maybe, but in this adventure, BC is clearly the sidekick. He’s nothing without Nightbird, man. Just like Glee would be nothing…”
Blaine felt Sam’s words giving him a purpose; he was starting to feel like himself again.
Beginning, Season 5
Kurt (beginning a band): It was one good thing that came of his time with Adam’s Apples: he knew how to go about reserving space in NYADA for outside projects. It would be so much better to hold auditions here in this professional space. Then the other band members would know this was a serious undertaking.
And it was. Serious. It felt sometimes like it would mean his entire future—professionally anyway. The ring that glinted from his left hand meant he’d be taken care of. Surely Blaine would charm his way into solos and leading roles. But Kurt needed this, his own success.
Blaine (beginning making breakfasts for Kurt): Moving into the loft was fabulous, really. It also gave Blaine a chance to show Kurt how much he appreciated him. So, even though the night after move-in involved more alcohol than was probably healthy, Blaine forced himself awake and into the shower before 8.
The loft was still quiet when he came out and stole stealthily into the kitchen. He was glad he had familiarized himself with the setup when he’d come in the spring with Sam. It was the work of a moment to brew coffee, toast bagels, and arrange a plate with sliced melons, jam, and cheese.
Beginning, Season 6
Kurt (beginning speed dating): Kurt had to start somewhere, he knew, and Elliott said speed dating was fun. So he registered, but when it came time to pick a date, he froze.
Not Mondays; he still kept them open for potluck dinners, even if these days he usually ate alone. Not Fridays; he liked to Face Time Dad and Carole during dinner. Not Wednesdays; that was hot yoga with Elliott.
Then he got an alert about an event the first Thursday of September and realized that months had slipped by. So he took his fragile heart into his hands and walked into the restaurant.
Blaine (beginning therapy): “Dr. Patel” sounded like a serious, gray-haired old Indian man, but in actuality, she was Judy, the younger sister of a woman who had gone to school with Blaine’s mom. She was kind and beautiful and calm, and he felt safer in her office than anywhere he could think of—even his bedroom at home, full as that was of memories.
He knew he had made progress over the past month and was glad he had trusted her about taking medication. He felt more like himself every day. Now when he rested his hands on his keyboard, the music came.
Beginning, future
Kurt and Blaine (beginning parenthood): It had seemed so doable when Rachel proposed it and Quinn happily jumped in to remind them of her promise. And, honestly, they’d had a whole year to prepare, more time than they’d had for planning just about anything in their lives.
God knows, Kurt had read enough books—okay, well, he’d bought them, and Blaine had read them out loud to him (and added little color-coded tabs to every page, just about). There was a row of them tucked into the little bookcase next to the rocking chair in Gracie’s room—the same rocking chair in which Kurt now sat, despondently rocking a howling, red-faced, ANGRY infant, watching Blaine pace, his hair a messy haystack as he flipped through one of his baby bibles, muttering, “Do you think it’s colic? It might be colic. Oh, God, what if it’s allergies? What if she’s allergic to her formula? We’ll have to change her formula.”
“I don’t think we can change her food source at 3 in the morning, Blaine.”
“Or maybe she’s tired. Or too hot. Do you think she’s too hot, Kurt?”
“The only thing she is right now is too loud. God, Blaine, I just want to sleep.”