Blaine doesn't pick Kurt up before work the next morning. It's Friday, and Kurt knows that it's the only day in the week when Blaine actually gets up earlier than usual so he can go for a long jog with Perry before work. Kurt has joined them a few times, if he has stayed the night, but usually he walks or takes the subway to the Bureau on Fridays, so he's not that upset.

He doesn't expect their conversation to happen until after work anyway.

The loft still feels empty and cold, his footsteps echoing around the space, but he washes the last paint smudges from his hands and dresses himself in record time, and when he steps out of his building the New York City air feels welcome in his lungs. He buys coffee from his favorite coffee shop and walks to work, trying to push down the anxiety swirling around his body. He and Blaine still have a whole work day ahead of them before they can talk about everything and figure out what's going on. There's no reason to get worked up beforehand and act weird around the office.

It's still early when Kurt steps into the White Collar Division some time later. Most of the agents haven't even arrived yet, but the first thing Kurt notices is that the door to Blaine's office is closed and even the heavy curtains are drawn over the glass walls, making the usually inviting room look closed-off and dark. Kurt stops in his tracks, staring at the curtains in confusion across the bullpen.

"He's been there for a while," Sam's voice says next to him, and Kurt startles, looking towards the voice. Sam is sitting behind his own desk, his eyes fixed on Blaine's office as well and his brows furrowed.

"Why are the curtains closed?" Kurt asks. The only time he's seen them closed before was when Blaine was exhausted after the Gilbert case, and back then it was only because Blaine was so tired that he needed a moment on his own and didn't want anyone from his team to see him like that. Blaine doesn't even like the curtains, doesn't like to close the door behind him unless he's having a meeting. The office isn't that big, and Kurt knows that the openness the glass walls provide is one of Blaine's favorite things about it.

Sam shrugs, turning to look at Kurt. "I don't know, man. He came to work looking a little tired but otherwise okay, and then a moment later when I looked up..." He gestures at the upper level.

Kurt frowns, looking back at Blaine's office. "Have you tried knocking on his door?"

"Nope." Sam stretches his arms above his head. "Tina was going to go ask him if anything was wrong, but I talked her out of it. Those curtains are a pretty clear 'do not disturb' sign to me."

Kurt squares his shoulders. "Well, I'm going to disturb him anyway," he says offhandedly. "I have something I want to talk to him about." He doesn't, at least not anything he wants to talk about at work, but seeing Blaine's office so shut-off is unsettling, and he can't help but feel like something's even more wrong than it was last night.

"Good luck with that," Sam wishes him with another shrug and goes back to his computer.

Kurt walks up the stairs to the upper level and pauses outside the door to Blaine's office. He can't hear any noises coming from inside, and for a moment he debates whether or not he should knock, but in the end he just pushes the handle down and quietly cracks the door open, peering into the room.

Blaine is leaning against the back wall, just like he was after the Gilbert case – except this time he has his phone pressed against his ear, his other hand resting on the nape of his neck. He's staring at the floor, and it looks like he's been in that position for several minutes already. He doesn't look up when Kurt steps inside, doesn't even seem to notice that he's not alone anymore, and Kurt can see the way his whole body is coiled up tight, his muscles tense and his hand gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles have turned white.

Sam was right; he does look tired, but he also looks... genuinely upset and angry, something Kurt hasn't seen on Blaine's face that often. His brows are furrowed, the line of his mouth tight, and he seems to be biting back words as he listens to the person on the other end of the line.

Kurt steps further into the room, still unnoticed, and at the same moment Blaine opens his mouth, his face twisting.

"Why did you call, Cooper?" he says into the phone, his voice even, but Kurt can hear the underlying anger behind it. "No, seriously, why did you call? Because you haven't called in years, you didn't answer any of my calls back when I still tried to call you, and you don't –"

He looks up and stops when he sees Kurt, his eyes widening. Kurt closes the door behind him and steps closer. Things might be complicated between them right now, but Blaine looks so tense, so closed-off, that Kurt instinctively wants to reach out for him and try to make it better. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Kurt can hear the tinny voice from the phone becoming louder, and Blaine looks away, his eyes blazing.

"Don't you dare use that excuse on me," he hisses into the phone. "Don't you fucking dare, Cooper. I'm an FBI agent, I know what it's like when your work is your life and that life is so busy you barely have time to sleep, but I still tried to call you. I tried to call you several times, and you never answered and –"

He obviously gets cut off again. Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing and his shoulders slumping down. Kurt takes another slow step towards him, like he's trying to approach a terrified wild animal.

"Look, a simple apology isn't going to cut it anymore, okay?" Blaine says, the anger in his voice suddenly replaced by weariness. "I can't – I can't have this conversation right now. I'll call you later."

He disconnects the call without saying goodbye and then throws his phone on the desk before burying his face in his hands, the tips of his index fingers massaging his temples.

"Blaine?" Kurt ventures after a moment, taking another step.

Blaine's shoulders shudder as he takes a breath. He lowers his hands but doesn't look up, doesn't meet Kurt's eyes. "Sorry," he says in a low voice.

Kurt stops, confused. "Why?"

"Sorry that you had to witness the not-so-warm reunion between me and my brother." Blaine rubs his hand over his forehead. The words are bitter, but the way Blaine says them sounds more tired than anything else.

"Your brother?" Kurt blurts out, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "The brother you barely talk about and never mention by name?"

Blaine gives a half-hearted shrug. "That's the one." His voice turns sarcastic, and it's so unusual that Kurt almost flinches away from it. "The one and only Cooper Anderson," Blaine says, "the star of several B-rated movies and the face of Free Credit Rating Today Dot Com commercials. The man who most of the time doesn't... doesn't even remember that he has a younger brother," he adds in a defeated voice.

"Blaine..." Kurt starts worriedly, reaching out for him.

Blaine lets out a choked-off laugh that sounds more like a scoff and shakes his head. "God, trust Cooper to mess everything up once again."

Kurt strokes his hand down Blaine's arm with a sympathetic smile until he can close his fingers loosely around his wrist. "Do you... Do you want to talk about it?"

"N-no, not really," Blaine says, his breath stuttering in his throat. "I just... I think I need some space."

Kurt lifts his eyebrows in surprise, but he does remove his hand, even though the loss of his touch seems to make Blaine's shoulders even more tense.

"I know we were supposed to talk today," Blaine continues, wrapping his arms around himself, "but I just... I have to go home. I can't be at the office after that." He looks at something over Kurt's shoulder. "I wouldn't be of any use to you guys anyway. I haven't used my vacation days in years so I can just say that I'm not feeling well and go home for the rest of the day."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Kurt asks carefully, tilting his head, his hands itching to pull Blaine closer and never let him go.

"No, that's not – I need my space. Like I said." Blaine hunches his shoulders. "Sorry. Can you... You could come to my apartment tomorrow and then we'll talk? I just... I need to be alone right now, and I don't think –"

"It's okay," Kurt rushes to assure. "We can talk tomorrow."

Blaine nods. "Thank you," he breathes out, some of the tension melting from his shoulders. He finally pushes himself off the wall, grabs his phone from the desk and drops it in his pocket. His hands seem restless, clenching into fists a few times, and Kurt suddenly understands why Blaine calls boxing his stress relief. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks, hopeful.

"Tomorrow," Kurt promises. "Just take care of yourself. Please."

Blaine nods, a ghost of a smile passing over his lips. He reaches out his hand, hesitating for a moment before he pats Kurt's shoulder. Kurt looks at the hand on his shoulder and he can feel his own frown deepening – but then Blaine's hand is gone and he's snatching his coat from the back of his chair, opening the door of his office and stepping out with one last glance back at Kurt.

It almost looks like he's escaping, running away from his brother and all the problems between them.

When Kurt sits down behind his own desk a while later, Sam looks up from his computer. "What's up with Blaine?"

"He's not feeling well," Kurt answers.

"Oh shit," Sam swears, cringing. "Let's hope it's not that office bug going around Organized Crime."

Kurt stares at the blank forms and unfinished paperwork on his desk, not really seeing them. Something seemed off about Blaine's reaction, but he doesn't know what it was, can't quite put his finger on it. Yes, Blaine has been acting distant, but this was different. There was something that Blaine said that sounded odd, and...

It takes him a while to realize what it was, but then he remembers the way Blaine's muscles tightened when Kurt let go of him, and there it is. Blaine doesn't need space. Blaine never needs space when he's upset – he might need it when he's frustrated or angry, but when he's upset he needs closeness and contact and touches, something to ground him, someone to stroke his back and hold his hand. They're different in that way: Kurt does sometimes need his space when he's upset or angry or tired, even if being with Blaine has knocked some of those walls down. Blaine on the other hand might think that he needs space, might think that he doesn't want to bring anyone else down with his own bad mood and therefore should be left alone, but Kurt knows it doesn't actually help Blaine.

Being left alone probably only makes Blaine feel even worse, and god, how didn't Kurt realize this earlier?

(They had an awful case a few months ago – a dirty lawyer running a large adoption scam, and Kurt still can't understand how someone could use defenseless children like that. Everyone at the office, including Sam, who usually doesn't get too fazed by any of their cases, was understandably upset as they worked their best to solve the case. It had a happy ending, thank goodness, but Blaine still clung to Kurt when they went to bed that night, telling him in a low voice how he had briefly thought about becoming a teacher once upon a time and how seeing anyone exploit children in any way made him feel so angry and helpless. Blaine kept inching closer to Kurt with every sentence and didn't let go of him until the morning.

They both have years of experience of the worst parts of people, so the should probably be used to it by now. But they've also dealt with it all alone for years, and they are not alone anymore.)

Kurt stands up so fast that he almost knocks over his chair, paperwork long forgotten. Sam startles at the sudden movement, flailing for a moment before his eyes focus on Kurt.

"I'm not feeling that well either," Kurt says to him before he strides out of the office.

---

Kurt lets himself into Blaine's apartment thirty minutes later, closing the door quietly behind him. The living room is empty and dark, as is the small dining room, and he doesn't see Perry anywhere, even though she usually greets him right at the door. He wonders if Blaine went boxing instead and isn't even at home yet, but then he hears the familiar slow thump-thump sound Perry's tail makes when it hits the floor, and he knows that Blaine is home. He makes his way through the apartment until he reaches Blaine's bedroom, stopping on the threshold and unconsciously releasing the breath he had been holding.

Blaine is sitting on his bed, still wearing his work shirt and pants, his tie loosened around his neck. The lights are off, but the bed is neatly made and Blaine's jacket is folded carefully over the bedpost. Perry is sitting on the floor next to his feet, her tail slowly swishing against the floor and her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and Blaine's hand is buried in her fur, his fingers scratching behind her ears. There's still that ghost of a smile on his face, like he doesn't have energy to turn it into a real one, but at least the smile does reach his eyes when Perry butts her head against his hand.

He is so quiet and still that it looks wrong to Kurt – Blaine can be quiet, of course he can, but Kurt is used to the Blaine who sings along to the radio and commands people on crime scenes, to the Blaine who gives advice and explains cases in the conference room, the one who only stops moving when he's listening to something carefully or when he's asleep and wrapped around Kurt beneath their comforter.

"Hi," Kurt says quietly.

Blaine looks up at him, his eyes widening even though he doesn't startle in surprise. "Hi," he says back. "What are you – You're here."

"I was worried about you," Kurt explains, stepping into the room. "Do you mind if I...?" He gestures at the bed hesitantly.

"Oh." Blaine blinks before he scoots to the side, making more room for Kurt even though there was already plenty of space on the bed. "Sure, go ahead."

"Thank you." Kurt smiles and sits down on the bed next to him, so close that their thighs are touching. Perry finally notices him, her tail thumping more quickly, and she leans in to nuzzle Kurt's thigh, the familiar Labrador smile aimed at him. Kurt pets her head for a moment, and then she huffs and lies down on the floor in front of them, looking weirdly calm now that Kurt is here, as if she was just keeping Blaine company until he arrived.

"You didn't have to come," Blaine says after a moment, his hands clasped in his lap now that he doesn't have anywhere else to put them.

"Of course I did," Kurt murmurs and reaches out, taking Blaine's hand in his own and stroking his thumb over his knuckles. Blaine lets out a shaky breath, but Kurt can feel him immediately relax against him, the muscles on his arms loosening and the tension in his jaw disappearing. "You're my boyfriend and I was worried about you, so of course I had to come."

Blaine's mouth twitches, and he turns his hand over so he can lace their fingers together. "I know you're my boyfriend," he says quietly, "but I also know that things are kind of difficult between us right now, so I didn't want you to –"

Kurt bristles. "If you say you didn't want me to feel obligated to support you, Blaine Devon Anderson, I will smack you on the head with that pillow over there. And it won't be a gentle, two-little-kids-in-a-pillow-fight slap."

Blaine lets out a laugh. "Okay, okay, sorry." He squeezes Kurt's hand. "I just had to get out of the office," he adds as an afterthought. "Cooper has this habit of ruining every good day in my life."

Kurt leans closer to him, feeling the bed dip under their combined weight. "What do you mean?" he asks in a quiet voice, hoping that Blaine won't shut him out this time.

"Well, the last time I properly talked to him was on the day I got hired by the White Collar Division," Blaine says, scrunching up his nose in thought. "He always seemed to think that my FBI dream was just a phase or something. The whole time I was training at Quantico he kept asking me when I was going to stop and go back to doing something, even though there wasn't anything I wanted to go back to. I wanted to be an agent," he stresses. "That's all there was to it."

Perry shifts on the floor with a grunt, and Blaine pauses, looking at her and gently trailing his socked foot over her back. He looks worried, Kurt notices.

"So what happened?" he prompts.

Blaine keeps staring at Perry, the frown on his face deepening. "I finished my training, despite Cooper's disapproval, and immediately got hired by the Bureau." He shakes his head, almost as if he still can't quite believe that he got hired so quickly. "I mean, god, I got just the job I was hoping for, in just the right city, so of course I went out that night with Sam and a few other agents to celebrate all the hard work we'd done – and then in the middle of the evening Cooper calls me completely out of the blue. He hadn't called me in weeks, so I figured mom had told him that I'd gotten hired and he was calling to congratulate me, that maybe he'd finally realized that this wasn't just some phase for me. But instead..."

Blaine pauses, his voice sounding smaller. "Instead he said that now the only thing I was good for was helping him get into character if he ever got cast as a G-man."

Kurt freezes, leaning away in shock. "He said that?" he asks, incredulous. "He really said that to you after you'd gotten hired for a job most people wouldn't even dare to dream about?"

"That's Cooper for you," Blaine comments dryly, his hand twitching against Kurt's. "Obviously I was upset, so I told him that it wasn't about him, it was about me and my life, and he kept saying how I couldn't possibly want to be an FBI agent for the rest of my life and then I called him a self-centered asshole and – well, he hung up on me." Blaine shrugs. "I drank too much that night and woke up the next day with a terrible hang-over, but I felt somewhat calmer so I tried to call him and maybe talk things through, but he didn't answer. He never answered any of my calls after that, and eventually I just... gave up."

Kurt blinks. "So before today, you hadn't heard from your brother in years?" he manages to get out through the sudden roughness in his throat, feeling something tighten inside his chest. God, he and Blaine are more alike than he thought.

"He sends a very generic birthday card every year and sometimes even a Christmas card, but yeah, that's pretty much it." Blaine swallows thickly, his eyes blinking rapidly and something wet sticking to his eyelashes, and Kurt instinctively squeezes his hands, shifting closer to him on the bed. Blaine sags against him, resting his head on his shoulder and exhaling a shaky breath.

"What about your parents? You never really talk about them either, but couldn't they have smacked some sense into your brother?" Kurt asks when Blaine seems to have calmed down.

"Oh, they're fine with my career," Blaine answers, still looking at Perry. "They're even proud, I suppose – my mom's a lawyer and dad was an insurance investigator before he retired, so it's almost like I'm following in their footsteps. They're just, you know, busy. So when I told them that Cooper and I had had a falling out, they said that we're both adults now and we can settle our differences on our own. Which, let's face it, will most likely never happen," he scoffs.

Kurt bites his lower lip. Blaine barely mentions his family at work, and the things he told Kurt right now are probably something not even Sam knows about, no matter how close he and Blaine are. Kurt wants to help, wants to say something meaningful and be there for Blaine, just the way Blaine was there for him when he was struggling with everything concerning Rachel, but... There's only one thing that comes to his mind, and as much as he loves Blaine, as much as he thinks this is it for him, that this is the one thing he used to dream about when he was young and a silly romantic, he still doesn't know if he can tell this particular story even to Blaine.

He still has no idea why Blaine has been acting so distant, and Blaine always has a reason for everything he does. Kurt used to wonder about those reasons back when they had just begun their partnership, confused by some of Blaine's actions that didn't sit right with the mental image Kurt had about FBI agents, but then slowly, with all the conversations they had and all the things he read between the lines, he started to realize that most of time Blaine has a rather simple reason for the things that might seem incomprehensible to anyone else.

Kurt nudges Blaine's head gently with his shoulder until he straightens up and turns to look at Kurt. His eyes are hooded, traces of sadness still clearly visible in them, and Kurt feels his chest clench painfully at the sight. He disentangles his hand from Blaine's, lifting it to cup Blaine's face instead, and then leans in until he can press their lips together in a slow kiss. Blaine's eyelids flutter closed at the touch, a small sigh escaping from his lips, and the last remains of tension melt away from him. His fingers move to curl against Kurt's thigh, feather-light but still somehow anchoring both of them, and after a moment Kurt breaks the kiss, resting their foreheads together and breathing in the familiar scent of Blaine's skin.

"I love you," he breathes out when Blaine blinks his eyes open.

"I love you too," Blaine replies instantly, without doubts or hesitation, like it's the most natural thing in the world, the easiest words he has ever had to say, and Kurt knows without a doubt that most of the time that love is the reason for everything Blaine does.

He can feel the words bubbling up inside him, so he gives one more peck against Blaine's lips before he leans away and lets his hand drop down back to his lap. Blaine is looking at him curiously, as if he knows that something important is going to happen, and he slowly moves his own hand away from Kurt's thigh, instinctively giving him more space.

Sometimes it scares Kurt how well Blaine knows him without even knowing everything about him.

"My... My mom died when I was eight," he breathes out after a moment, looking down on his lap, feeling his throat clench. No matter how many years pass, his mom's death will always be something that makes him feel like crying. "It was rough," he continues, "and for many years it was just me and my dad, but we did alright. I don't remember much about my mom, not anymore – just the scent of her perfume and the way she looked and some of the songs she used to sing to me – but my dad... He was always there for me. He's literally the best dad anyone could ask for."

"Do you look more like your dad or your mom?" Blaine asks gently when he doesn't continue.

Kurt startles, surprised by the question. He turns to look at Blaine, and the small smile on his face seems to say so many things – I'm so sorry for your mom I'm so glad you had your dad I can't believe you're telling me this they both sound so wonderful – that Kurt automatically smiles back, even if it's a little watery.

"Dad used to say that I look exactly like my mom," he says, his voice turning wistful, "but I've had other people tell me that some of my mannerisms and gestures are exactly the same as my Dad's, so... Probably a bit like both, like most children." He gives a small laugh and watches how Blaine's smile softens.

"So how does Finn fit into the picture?" Blaine asks, tilting his head.

"Oh, when I was in high school, my dad married Finn's mom, Carole, and then it wasn't just the two of us anymore," Kurt explains, leaning his hands against the bed. His foot accidentally nudges Perry with the movement, but the dog doesn't even shift in her sleep, only lets out a slightly louder exhale. These are the easy parts of the story, the ones Kurt used to tell to every new person he met back when he hadn't started his life of crime yet, but he knows the hard parts are coming up, and his heart beats a little faster in anxiety.

Blaine makes a small humming sound in understanding. "Finn's your stepbrother," he summarizes.

"Yeah, but I never – we had our issues, but once we got over them I never really thought of him as my step-brother. He's my brother from a different mother," Kurt says, and Blaine lets out a soft laugh at the last sentence. "Even now I've never..."

Kurt trails off, furrowing his brows. It's been such a long time since he last saw Finn that it feels almost strange to talk about him.

Blaine shifts on the bed, crossing his legs and turning to face Kurt. He still keeps his distance, though, something for which Kurt is grateful. He wants to get through the whole story, and if Blaine touched him right now he'd probably break before he even got halfway through.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks after a few quiet moments, his voice careful. "You don't have to tell me more if –"

"No, no, that's not it," Kurt assures him. "I want to tell you, and I do have a point to all of this, but I just... I was wondering how detailed I should be to get my point across."

"Whatever you want to tell me is enough," Blaine says. Kurt looks at him and gives a small smile of his own. It really is scary how well Blaine knows him, but it also makes him feel safe, like he doesn't have to worry about disappointing or confusing Blaine.

"Well, I guess..." Kurt starts, turning to look at the dark ceiling. "You already know that I wanted to go to NYADA," he says and sees Blaine nod from the corner of his eye. "I didn't get in, but I still came to New York after high school, hoping that I could find some work and reapply for the next semester. I shared a flat with Rachel and Santana, but when I'd been living here for a little over a month, I, um, got a call from Finn. He stayed behind in Ohio because New York wasn't for him, and he... He told me that dad and Carole had disappeared."

The words rush out of his mouth, as if they would hurt less if he said them quickly, and he can sense the way Blaine freezes next to him. "What?"

"They disappeared," Kurt repeats, feeling the familiar lump in his throat and trying to swallow against it. "Without a trace. Finn was going to visit them and he found the house empty, with no sign of them – no note, no message, no nothing. Just... gone."

Blaine does reach out for him now, his hand hovering nervously right next to Kurt's arm. "Kurt..."

"Finn and I both dropped everything and tried to look for them, but there was nothing to be found," Kurt goes on, blinking his eyes and keeping them fixed on the familiar cracks above Blaine's bed. If he stops now he's never going to get these words out. "We tried everything, we searched through practically every inch of Ohio and through huge areas of the neighboring states, we contacted the police and the hospitals and everything, but there was just... nothing. They had completely disappeared from the radar. No one knew anything, and after several months of searching for them we were running out of money already and –"

Blaine closes the remaining inches between them and settles his hand on Kurt's arm, squeezing it tightly. The tears that have been pooling in Kurt's eyes finally fall over and slide down his cheeks, a slow trickle over his skin, and Kurt furiously brushes them away with the sleeve of his jacket. He takes a shuddering breath, the air in his lungs feeling strangely slow and thick, and concentrates on the feeling of Blaine's hand on his arm, warm and familiar and supportive, concentrates on the soft sound of Perry's sleepy breathing.

He can do this. He can get through this. He's already lived it once.

"So after a while," he continues, even though his voice is on the verge of breaking, "when we were almost out of cash and couldn't get any temporary jobs, I... I tried being a street artist. I've always been good at drawing and painting, so I painted a few reproductions of famous paintings and when I sold them, the buyers all said that they looked exactly like the real thing, and I thought... why not?" He shrugs. "So I contacted Santana, because I knew she had been doing something illegal to pay for her share of the rent back in New York, and she gave me some tips and suddenly... Suddenly I had more money. I could charm my way out of any trouble, and I figured that if the law enforcement didn't know what happened to my dad and Carole, maybe the people who were on the opposite side of the law would."

Blaine sucks in a breath, his fingers flexing against Kurt's arm. "You became a con-man so you could find your parents?"

Kurt nods. Blaine will understand; Blaine always understands. "I did what I had to do." He starts tapping his fingers quietly against the bedspread, the melody of Defying Gravity automatically moving through his fingertips so he can have something else to focus on as well. "I kept my own name so dad and Carole could find me if they came back," he continues, "but otherwise I pretty much came up with a new identity for myself. I did a job for one of Santana's friends, this really talented hacker who could break into any database known to man, and in return he practically erased the old Kurt Hummel from all official records. After that the only member of my family who still existed on paper was Finn." His voice does break now, and Kurt hates it, hates the way it makes him sound, hates what causes it. "I... disappeared, just like my dad."

Blaine lets out a choked-off noise, and then his arms are around Kurt, pulling him into a fierce, protective embrace. Kurt goes willingly, buries his face into Blaine's chest, breathes in the comforting scent of Blaine's laundry detergent and the smell of his skin, letting his tears and sobs soak into the crisp fabric of Blaine's shirt. Kurt can feel something wet against his own head when Blaine kisses his hair, and the realization that Blaine is crying for him makes him shift his body until he wrap his own arms more tightly around Blaine's waist as well.

It's safe. It's home. It's everything Kurt hasn't felt in years and feared he would never feel again.

"Did... Did Finn know about it?" Blaine asks after a moment, his voice thin and his hand stroking down Kurt's back.

Kurt takes a deep breath and leans away, still staying in Blaine's arms but giving them a little more breathing space. "No, not at first," he admits. "But when he found out... Well, he wasn't exactly happy about it. He thought it was reckless and wrong in every way. I do see his point now, I really do, but back then..." He hesitates. "I was so desperate back then. I thought I had nothing else left – dad and Carole were gone, Rachel and I had fallen out, I'd lost contact with all of my other friends besides Santana, and I had basically given up on all of my old dreams."

He looks into Blaine's eyes, trying to get his point across. "You have to understand that running a con... it's like a rush. You easily get addicted to it, especially if you're good at it. And I was good at it, and I wanted to be even better and do even bigger cons, and Finn didn't approve of that, so we..." He looks away, shrugging his shoulders. "We decided to go our separate ways. We said that it was because it would be easier to find dad and Carole if we split up, but we both knew that we actually did it because of our disagreement." His own voice sounds small in his ears.

"So why did you start looking for him again before we caught you?" Blaine asks, his hand still moving over Kurt's back, soothing and healing.

"Because I realized I had something else left as well. I had spent years on the run, ignoring everything else, but I still had him, I still had my brother if I could just find him, and I..." Kurt sighs, rubbing the back of his hand angrily over his face. "Well, obviously in the end I didn't really have him either."

"Kurt..." Blaine starts, his hand stopping in its movement.

Kurt shakes his head, getting himself back on track, and meets Blaine's eyes. "Look, all I'm saying with this is that you only get one brother, Blaine. Don't give up on that. I lost mine after I'd already lost my dad and Carole and everyone else. I have no idea where he is these days, but I would do literally anything to get him back."

Blaine clenches his jaw, pulling his hands away. "I thought we were talking about you, not about my sibling issues," he points out, that same ghost of a smile passing over his lips.

"We were," Kurt admits, giving a small smile himself now that he's done with the hard parts, "but I also wanted to make a point. What Cooper did was wrong and you have every right to be angry at him – but there must be a reason why he's trying to apologize to you now. You Anderson men don't seem to do anything without a good reason," he adds, nudging Blaine's leg with his own.

Blaine lets out a soft laugh, ducking his head and scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "You didn't have to tell me all that about your past to make your point, you know."

"I know. But I wanted to." Kurt shrugs, feeling weirdly lighter now that he's done. His eyes still itch and his face is probably a mess, and everything that's happened will always be a silent weight inside of him, pulling him down if he doesn't resist it, but he feels... relieved. Like some horrible secret he has been carrying around for years is finally out in the open and he doesn't have to carry it on his own anymore – and well, okay, that's kind of what just happened, but he honestly didn't expect it to feel this freeing.

Blaine is smiling at him, tender and soft and a little surprised, and then he leans in, his hand cupping Kurt's face and his thumb stroking over his cheekbone as he kisses him, slow and sweet.

"Well then," he murmurs against Kurt's lips, brushing another kiss over them, "thank you for wanting to tell me. I know how much it means."

Kurt nuzzles Blaine's face, closing his eyes. He thought he would be a mess by the time he was done, but somehow Blaine makes him feel so safe and loved that even the pain from his past can't hurt him too much. Of course it's still there, reminding him of everything he's lost, of everything he once had but doesn't anymore, of all the things that could've gone differently. But it has been years already – he hasn't given up, definitely not; he still hopes that someday he will find his dad and Carole and Finn, that someday he can have his family back again – but he has learned to live with it all. He has learned to keep going because he has no other choice.

His dad would've never wanted him to stop anyway.

"Yesterday you said..." Blaine starts suddenly, leaning away and licking his lips. "You said you felt like you were losing me."

"Oh." Kurt blinks, coming back from his past and suddenly remembering what's been going on for the past few weeks. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Kurt." Blaine scoots closer to him on the bed and takes his hands. Kurt has always loved the way Blaine says his name like it's something reverent, something precious and important, and every time he hears it a small shiver goes up his spine. It makes him appreciate the fact that he didn't change his name all those years ago even more. "You are not going to lose me," Blaine vouches. "I know that I've been distant, but it's only because... Well." He pauses, looking at their joined hands.

"Yes?" Kurt prompts, his voice sounding nervous even in his own ears. He trusts Blaine, trusts him more than anyone else, of course he does – but people are not static or constant. They are changeable and whimsical, they can change their minds and themselves, can turn into something better or into something worse; they can do unpredictable things or stick to their usual patterns, have reasons no one could've never guessed, and that's what makes life so dangerous and fleeting. That's what makes trust so dangerous and fleeting as well. But what's life without a few risks?

"After the Caine case," Blaine continues quietly, "I checked who has access to your tracking data. Besides me, practically all the higher-ups of the White Collar Division do, and then there are of course the Marshals and..." He huffs out a frustrated breath. "I panicked, okay? I thought about what it would look like if one of my bosses decided to check your tracking data – they haven't, so far, because aside from that one time you've never stepped outside your radius – but what if they did decide to check it and saw that you've spent countless nights at my address?" He looks up at Kurt, earnest and worried. "How on earth could we explain that, Kurt?"

"But you said they've never checked my tracking data?" Kurt verifies.

"They haven't," Blaine admits, "but... I don't know, I guess my mind just fixated on the idea that they could, and that I have to keep you safe, that I can't – I almost got us caught during that Caine case, and I can't mess up another time." He shakes his head, looking even more frustrated. "I mean, god, of course I want you in my life, Kurt, I want you in my life more than anything, but sometimes it feels like I can't have you, not if I want to keep you safe as well."

"Blaine, honey." Kurt leans closer, tilting his head until he can meet Blaine's eyes. The term of endearment slips almost instinctively from his lips. "You could've just told me that. We can spend more time at my loft if that's what you're worried about –"

"No, but that doesn't work either," Blaine interrupts, his breath suddenly hitching. "I need to spend time with Perry as well." He gestures at the calmly sleeping dog lying on the floor next to the bed, a small, barely noticeable tremor running up his arm. "Ms. Avninder told me that Perry was sick a few weeks ago, when we were working on the Caine case – apparently she threw up so many times that Ms. Avninder was worried it was something more serious, but it turned out she was just so stressed that her stomach started acting up – and I didn't even know. She's my dog, and she was sick and I didn't even know, Kurt." He shakes his head angrily, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. "I don't want it to seem like I don't want to come to your apartment, because of course I do, but I also have a dog and... God, this is such a mess."

Blaine breathes out wetly, wiping his face clean with the sleeve of his shirt. Kurt glances down at Perry, feeling his own heart clench with fear when he imagines something happening to her and how it would affect Blaine – or how it would affect himself; he loves that silly dog so much it's almost ridiculous, considering he's never seen himself as a dog person. "She's fine though, isn't she?" he can't help but ask.

"Y-yeah, she is," Blaine says. "She's always had a sensitive stomach, so that's all there was to it. You know what the weirdest part is though?" he adds, his voice making it sound like he's changing the subject. "Ever since you took this deal I've started keeping things from the FBI. You've basically confessed several of your old crimes to me, but I've never said anything about them to anyone. It's something I thought I would never do, I was even trained against it, but the truth is... It doesn't even bother me that much. It should probably bother me, shouldn't it?" He turns to look at Kurt, his eyes desperate and confused. "But it doesn't. When it comes to you, I just think that well, you never hurt anyone and you did already spend four years in prison and it's all in the past, and that's all there is to it. It... It scares me a little."

Kurt swallows. "Does it scare you enough to want to give up?" he asks in a small voice.

Blaine immediately shakes his head. "God, no, of course not. It's just... weird, I suppose."

Kurt hesitates, pursing his lips in thought. "You know, Santana once told me that the only way you can get out of the con-man lifestyle is to hit rock bottom. I didn't think anything of it back then, too high on my most recent con, but when I broke out of prison and you caught me for the second time... That must have been when I hit rock bottom. That's when I had to realize that I can't do this anymore."

Blaine looks up at him, his eyes wide open and still shining with unshed tears. "R-really?" he stutters out.

Kurt nods and starts playing with Blaine's hand, lacing their fingers together and then disentangling them again, feeling the way a blush is starting to spread over his cheeks. "Really. And ever since then you've been helping me to let go of my past and start thinking about a different future for myself. And maybe... Maybe that's why I haven't felt the need to step outside my radius or do anything illegal anymore. Maybe that's why you're willing to overlook my past as well?" he ventures carefully.

Blaine smiles, small and private. "Maybe. Besides, you'll be a free man in three years. You won't be restricted to a three-mile radius and a tracking anklet anymore. You can start anew." He tugs at Kurt's hand. "But I think the question is – how are we going to deal with those next three years? Assuming that our relationship isn't ending anytime soon."

"It isn't," Kurt stresses. "Not unless you want it to? Because I know how important your job is to you, and I'd never –"

"Kurt." Blaine gives him a look. "The only reason I've been acting distant is because I didn't want you to go to prison. Because I didn't want our relationship to end."

Kurt can't help but smile at the conviction in Blaine's voice. Sometimes the risk of trusting someone really is worth it. "Do you honestly think your bosses will check my tracking data one day?" he asks.

Blaine sighs, running his hand through his hair, making it stick up in different directions. "I don't know. They haven't, so far, and the only one who could have real interest in it is Peterson because he's our immediate boss, but..."

"So maybe we could take a risk every now and then?" Kurt suggests, tilting his head.

"It's a big risk." Blaine frowns. "And I already messed up once, so..."

"Can you please stop saying that you messed up?" Kurt interrupts. He's seriously considering reaching for that pillow right now. "You didn't mess up anything, Blaine. We're in this together. We can worry about everything together. You don't have to push me away and carry this all on your own."

"Like you've been doing with your past?" Blaine points out, but there's only gentle teasing behind his words.

"And now I've stopped doing it," Kurt notes. "So you –" he pokes at Blaine's nose with his finger, making Blaine's face scrunch up in amusement "– can stop doing all the worrying as well. Weren't you the one who said that if we want this to work, we have to let each other in at some point?"

"I know, I know," Blaine sighs. "I just... I can't help feeling like I should be responsible. It's probably the agent in me or something," he mutters, scratching his head.

Kurt smiles. He can feel something warm unfurling in his chest when he looks at Blaine, at his earnest expression and all the complex emotions hidden inside of him, all the unpredictable and whimsical things that make him Blaine, make him the man Kurt trusts and loves more than anyone else. This is not the way he imagined this whole conversation going, not by a long shot. This is better.

"Do you want to take that risk with me?" Kurt asks. "We could still see each other outside work, but we wouldn't have to do it so often as we did before, and we'd still keep our distance at the office. I think even Perry would appreciate it," he adds with a small grin. "And if by some chance one of your bosses happens to check my tracking data, we'll deal with it if and when it happens."

Blaine huffs out a soft laugh. "You should know by now that you're worth every risk I've ever taken."

"So is that a yes?" Kurt can't help but check.

"Yes," Blaine laughs.

"Oh thank god," Kurt exhales, his face breaking into a wide grin. He wants to kick his feet and preen a little, feeling like all his worries have evaporated with that one simple word, with the loving smile on Blaine's face. "I've missed you so much," he confesses.

"I've missed you too," Blaine says, surging forward and kissing him again.

Perry makes a sleepy sound on the floor next to them, but they both ignore it, deepening the kiss until Kurt feels like nothing else exists except the slide of Blaine's lips against his own, the way his tongue starts to slowly explore his mouth and the way Blaine's fingers have curled around the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. Blaine kisses like he's hungry for it, like he can't get enough of Kurt, and Kurt responds in kind, grabbing the front of Blaine's shirt and tugging at it until they can lie down on the bed, Blaine climbing on top of him and not once stopping the kisses he trails over Kurt's mouth.

It's warm and exhilarating and loving, and god, Kurt really has missed this.

Later on, when Blaine is a sweaty, naked weight against Kurt's chest, when their breathing is still echoing around the room and Kurt doesn't even care how wrinkled his shirt is going to be after lying on the floor for such a long time, Blaine plants a drowsy kiss on the curve of Kurt's neck and mumbles, already half-asleep, "I promise I'm never saying goodbye to you."

Kurt has always thought that never is scary concept – it's unreliable, it's something that a con-man can't afford to think about, especially one with his past – but when the word comes out of Blaine's mouth it sounds like a promise, like a vow, like a declaration of love, and Kurt can feel sudden overwhelmed tears in his eyes.

"Okay," he whispers hoarsely against Blaine's curls.