Its raining. Of course its raining.

Blaine hunches his shoulders against the cold, trying to wrap his coat more tightly around his body. The awning hes standing under doesnt really shield him from the weather at all, and his shoes are definitely not made for this kind of a downpour, but Nathan had promised to meet him outside the restaurant once he got off work. They specifically agreed on the word outside, since it is Friday night, the restaurant is packed, and it would take them a long while to locate each other in the crowd.

Besides, Nathan was the one who made the reservation, so Blaine cant exactly get the table before he arrives.

Which should have already happened thirty minutes ago.

Blaine sighs and leans forward to glance left and right, scanning the street for Nathan. The sidewalk is uncharacteristically quiet for this time of the week, but the weather must have scared most people off, and none of the few people walking towards or away from the restaurant look like his boyfriend of over six months.

This has been happening more and more recently - they make plans, mostly even relatively romantic plans like having dinner together or going out to see a movie or a play, and Nathan either cancels at the last minute or doesnt show up at all. Blaine is slowly getting tired of it, tired of being the one stuck waiting, but he loves Nathan, and Nathan always has a good excuse. Like getting stuck at work. Or bumping into a friend he hasnt seen in a long while. Or...

Well, usually its about getting stuck at work.

Which Blaine can understand. He has had to cancel one or two dates himself because of work as well, and he and Nathan both agreed when they started dating that their work must come first. They are at that time of their lives when they have to make connections and finally find their way.

Besides, most of the time Nathan does show up, and when he does they can talk to each other about their day, talk about the restaurant theyre eating at, or just sit in silence, enjoying each others company and thinking their own thoughts. Thats what solid, adult relationships are like. Its about independence and compromises, about giving space for the other person and realizing that the happiest relationships are built on sheer dedication and nothing more. Theres no need to act like two lovebirds or to shout their love out from the rooftops for the whole world, like Blaine would have done before. Theres no need to make special plans for anniversaries or plot silly surprises.

He and Nathan work as a couple, despite the little time they actually get to spend together. They are both so busy, but as a couple theyre also... sensible. They work. In every sense of the word.

Blaines phone rings in his pocket just as hes wondering if he should just give in and go wait in the restaurants bar, and he fishes it out, expecting it to be Nathan with another excuse or apology. Instead he sees Tinas name on the screen and huffs out a breath in frustration.

"Tina-" he answers, stepping closer to the building wall again when a taxi drives past, sending a small spray of water on the sidewalk from the puddles covering the street.

"Did he show up this time?" Tina interrupts.

Blaine sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel his hair starting to get frizzy from the humidity even under all the gel he put in it this morning, and its not a very pleasant feeling. "He hasnt arrived yet, okay," he hedges. "But Im sure hes just-"

"And what time did you agree to meet?" Tina interrupts again. Blaine can hear faint music in the background, so she must be waiting for Mike at the dance studio.

"We... We talked about meeting here at eight thirty," Blaine admits, glancing up and down the street again. Still no sign of Nathan.

"M-hm," Tina hums, "and you are aware that its already fifteen minutes over nine? Which means hes forty-five minutes late. If you can call it late when he wont even show up."

"Stop it," Blaine hisses angrily, hunching his shoulders a little more against a sudden strong burst of wind. "I know youre my friend, but you still have no right to talk about my boyfriend like that."

"I just dont understand why youve stayed with him for this long," Tina argues, her voice rising. Blaine sighs and rubs his hand over his face. "You barely see each other, and I cant remember the last time I saw you kiss Nathan. Or even hold his hand." Tinas voice softens in a way that Blaine hates, especially because it only happens when theyre talking about his relationship with Nathan. It always sounds like shes talking to a child, and while Blaine understands that it comes from a place of caring, its still frustrating. "I just dont understand why youre still together, Blaine," Tina is saying slowly. "This is so different from all your other relationships and Im worried that-"

Its Blaines turn to interrupt. "Thats exactly why were still together, Tina," he says in a final voice. "Because this is different. And we dont need PDA or anything like that to prove our relationship to you or anyone else."

"I know," Tina placates, "but youre just so distant with each other. Its... weird."

"Were both adults," Blaine replies and looks down at his watch. It really is almost twenty past nine already, and Nathan still hasnt shown up. "We dont want to act like teenagers or sing out our feelings in song. It doesnt fit us."

Tina sighs, sounding frustrated. "And thats fine, okay, but its just... Its so different from the way you used to be," she adds, her voice careful. "I havent seen that bubbly, overdramatic, wears-his-heart-on-his-sleeve-and-loves-grand-gestures Blaine I met in college for a long time, and Im just worried. I know that what happened with Connor was awful and you were really hurt by it," Tina says quickly, as if speed will make it hurt less, "but then you started dating Nathan and- I just worry, Blaine. I want you to be happy, and Im not sure if you are. Not with him."

Blaine groans. "I am happy, Tina. You dont have to worry about me. I just... grew up and started living in the real world."

Another car drives past him, this one sending an even bigger spray of water on the sidewalk, soaking the tips of his shoes, and Blaine sighs for the umpteenth time this evening.

"Look, Tina, Ive got to go. Ill call you later, okay?"

"Blaine, I didnt mean-"

"I know you didnt," Blaine interrupts gently. He does appreciate Tinas concern, always has and always will, but its just... a bit too much right now. "Tell Mike I said hi?"

Tina sighs, obviously reluctant to end the call. "I will. You get home safe, alright?"

"Will do," Blaine promises, and after saying their goodbyes he disconnects the call, frowning down at the screen of his phone. There are no new messages from Nathan, no missed calls or even Facebook alerts that he might have missed while he was talking to Tina. Blaine feels a small twinge of worry in his stomach when he opens his messages and sees that the last message he got from Nathan was this morning, confirming their date, followed by the three messages sent by Blaine himself while hes been waiting here.

Then again, this is the third time this has happened in the last three weeks, and a tired, resigned feeling in Blaines heart at that realization almost drowns out his worry. Almost.

As a last effort Blaine calls Nathans number, but he only gets the same old voice mail hes heard before, informing him that Nathan Carter is busy and will get back to him as soon as possible. He leaves a message anyway, letting Nathan know that hes going home and that hell call again tomorrow and hopefully everythings alright.

Once hes ended the call and slipped his phone back in his pocket he takes one last look around, confirming that theres still no sign of Nathan. The rain seems to be finally easing up though, and Blaines flat isnt that far away anyway, so he might as well walk home and save the cab money when his clothes are this damp already. He does still need to pay back his student loans.

Blaine turns the collar of his coat up, hunches his shoulders against the rain, and starts walking.

Hes already more than halfway home, seriously questioning his idea of walking home in this weather after his disappointing day, clothes drenched and hair completely breaking free from its gel, when he hears a voice ahead of him. It sounds like someone asking for help in a loud, clear voice, even though aside from Blaine and a homeless woman across the street there isnt anyone around.

Blaine slows his steps and squints his eyes, noticing a tall man standing in front of a flashing, palace-shaped sign for a nearby Indian restaurant, his hands gesturing in frustration. The mans silhouette looks odd somehow, as if hes wearing a... cape?

"Just help me, please! You must be magical, and I know you can help me!"

Blaine stops, blinking his eyes. The man is wearing a cape, a long dark blue cape that hangs from his shoulders, obviously soaked through. The mans back is turned to Blaine, but Blaine can still make out other unusual clothing choices as well - the man seems to be wearing thick, almost knee-high boots and pair of pants that look so tight that theyre practically painted on. The silhouette of his body looks like something out of a Disney movie, and when the man lifts his hands in the air in a helpless gesture, Blaine can suddenly see the long shape of a sword hanging from his belt.

He should keep walking or just turn away. The rain has turned into a drizzle, but it is still raining, and Blaine is so close to the warmth of his apartment. Besides, the man looks like a cosplayer or an actor whos trying to talk to the restaurant sign for some odd reason, the neon yellow color of it glowing through the rain and lighting up the mans body with an eerie light. He might be crazy or deranged, dangerous even, and all the years Blaine has lived here should have already taught him that one does not simply talk to weird-looking strangers in the middle of the night in New York City.

But as Blaine stands there, staring at the man in confusion and listening to his pleas, the rain pattering against the top of his head, he can hear how... lost the man sounds like.

Blaine has never liked seeing people in any kind of distress.

"Excuse me?" he calls out, keeping a safe distance between himself and the man, who startles at the words, looking around as if he expects the sign to be the one speaking. "Um, is- is everything alright?"

The man finally turns around, his wet cape swishing around his body, and- wow. He is actually wearing a full Disney prince gear, tights and boots and a dark tunic that makes his shoulders look wide and strong, the sheathed sword hanging from his belt looking scarily real now that Blaine can see it properly. Actually, all the clothes and accessories the man is wearing look more real or at least more tailored than anything Blaine has ever seen before during Halloween or at Broadway.

When Blaine finally manages to tear his eyes away from the unusual clothes and look up at the mans face, he can practically feel his heart skip a beat or two in his chest. The mans chestnut hair is drooping sadly over his forehead, but it still manages to look soft and thick, and Blaines fingers suddenly itch to touch it, to run his hand through it. The mans skin is pale, his features delicate, almost fairy-like, but he still looks like he could take his sword and win in a fight against anyone, an underlying strength hiding beneath his beautiful face.

Because he really is beautiful. Blaine cant come up with any other word to describe him. He has never seen anyone even remotely like this man before, not even in fairytales.

"Oh," the man says, blinking his eyes as he looks at Blaine in confusion. "Hello." His voice is unusually high, but it somehow fits him as well.

"Hi?" Blaine replies, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, uneasy under the mans curious stare. "Do you, erm, need any help? Im sorry but you just look a bit lost."

The man gives a sheepish laugh, pushing his hand through his wet hair. "Well, I am actually very, very lost. Ive been trying to ask help from the people Ive run into, but theyve all been surprisingly rude, and none of the magical castles or paintings have agreed to help me either."

He gestures at the sign behind him, as if the Indian palace in the sign is one of these magical castles, and wow, he must be more out if it than Blaine first realized.

"Yeah, well - welcome to New York," Blaine jokes awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

The mans shoulders relax, his eyes going soft and his lips turning up in a smile. "Thank you," he says sincerely. "Its nice to finally have a name for this place." He takes a step closer, and Blaine stays still, mesmerized by the movement of the mans body underneath his soaking wet clothes. "It still doesnt sound familiar to me, though. Is there any chance you could point me in the direction of Kingleysia? I should probably be getting home soon."

"King- what?" Blaine asks, shaking his head in confusion. Hes starting to feel like hes stepped into some other dimension, but hes still rooted to the spot, unable to walk away.

"Kingleysia?" the man repeats, frowning and looking at Blaine as if the names supposed to ring a bell. "The western kingdom near Lake Carmelton?"

"Ive..." Blaine hesitates. "Ive never actually heard of a place like that before, to be honest. But I can point you towards the nearest subway station? Or call someone for you, if that would help?" he suggests, already reaching for his phone in his pocket.

The mans frown deepens. "I dont think theyd hear you from here," he says uneasily, glancing around. "I... I must be further away from home than I thought."

His voice sounds so much smaller all of a sudden, confused and scared, and Blaine feels a painful twinge in his chest. No one should look that lost. Not even a potentially crazy person, because honestly, either the man is a cosplayer whos taking his costume way too seriously or he actually believes that hes from a place called Kingleysia and that magical Indian restaurants can help him get back home.

"I guess I should just keep walking then," the man mutters to himself. Hes staring into the distance, as if hes forgotten that Blaines still there, but then he startles from his thoughts, turning around to face Blaine again, a polite fake smile appearing on his face.

Blaine doesnt know exactly how he can tell that the mans, a complete strangers, smile is fake - but somehow he just knows. Its a bit too bright, too far away from the mans eyes, too practiced and regal, in some weird way, as if the man is a prince facing his kingdom, someone who doesnt really want to be here but is trying to hide it and do what everyone else is expecting him to do.

It looks familiar, as if Blaine has seen a similar smile on his own face one too many times.

"Thank you for your help," the man says, straightening his shoulders, the smile on his face staying in place. "It was very kind of you to stop and ask me if I was alright - not a lot of people in this place would apparently do that."

"Its nothing," Blaine rushes to say. The rain has let up by now, but it still feels somehow wrong to just let the man go, to leave him on his own. "I wasnt really even able to help you, so..."

The mans smile softens, turning into something a little more genuine, as he starts walking backwards. "Still," he insists. "At least I know now where I am, and hopefully thatll help me find my way back home." He takes another step back, stumbling a little as he steps over the curb and sets his foot on the street.

Blaine can see a flash of light from the corner of his eye and before he has a chance to think hes shouting, "Look out!", rushing forward and pulling the man back. The man yelps in surprise, and Blaine overbalances, both of them tumbling onto the wet sidewalk, the mans weight knocking the breath out of Blaine. A yellow cab drives past them fast, barely avoiding the place where the man was just standing less than two seconds ago and splattering them both with water, the honk of its horn echoing through the street as it disappears behind a corner.

Blaine groans and tries to blink the stars out of his eyes. He hit the pavement pretty hard, and hell probably have impressive bruises on his back tomorrow. "Are you alright?" he asks, looking down.

The man is lying on top of him, his hands over his head for protection, but at Blaines words he lifts his own head carefully, their eyes meeting. The mans eyes are an indescribable color, blue and green and gray, all of them swirling together around his pupils as if his eyes are actual galaxies Blaine could get lost into if he stared into them for too long.

"What..." the man starts, and then licks his lips, staring back into Blaines eyes. "You saved me."

Blaine blinks. "Oh." Hes suddenly very aware of his own hands resting on the mans waist, against the wet and warm fabric of his clothes, the mans cape spread out over them.

"My names Kurt," the man, Kurt, says, smiling down at Blaine, their faces mere inches apart, and from this close Blaine could practically count the faint freckles dotting his cheeks and nose.

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson," Blaine answers, automatically trying to reach his hand out for a handshake despite the awkward angle - you can take the boy out of Dalton, but you cant take Dalton out of the boy - but he only ends up wincing when the movement pulls at one of the muscles he must have fallen on.

"Oh my god, Im so sorry!" Kurt exclaims, quickly pushing himself up and grabbing Blaine by the arms so he can pull him up as well. He begins dusting Blaines clothes off, his eyes wide in alarm. "I was so dazed that I didnt even realize I was... Are you alright? Youre not hurt, are you?"

Blaine winces again, stretching his back carefully. His clothes are even wetter than before, if thats somehow even possible. "Just bruises, I think, nothing worse. You?" He looks at Kurt, trying to see if hes injured.

"Oh no, Im fine. Thanks to you," Kurt adds. "Thank you, Blaine, honestly. If you hadnt pulled me back I would have gotten hit by that... that..."

"Cab?" Blaine finishes for him, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Yes. That... cab... thing," Kurt repeats, making a vague gesture with his hand. "Are they common in here?"

Blaine lets out a laugh, rubbing his sore shoulder. "They are. Very common. They are also the reason why you should always check before you cross the street."

Kurt nods, flashing a sheepish grin. "Noted."

The silence that follows is a little awkward, with both of them glancing at each other as Blaine stretches his muscles and Kurt adjusts his sword and clothes. Its only when Blaine realizes how disgustingly wet and dirty he himself feels like that he notices that Kurt is actually trying to wrap his sodden cape around himself, as if hes cold.

"Where are you... I mean, do you have someplace to stay for tonight?" Blaine asks.

Kurt looks up, letting go of his cape. "Oh. Well..." He brushes his hair away from his forehead, the gesture surprisingly elegant when theyre both standing there in wet clothes. "I was hoping to just find my way home as soon as possible, but I guess Kingleysia is a lot further away than I thought." He frowns, lost in thought. "I do feel rather tired, so I guess I could just find a meadow or a hollow tree to rest my head on..."

"What?" Blaine laughs.

"Well, there arent exactly that many other choices," Kurt snaps, his fingers curling around the cape again, and for the first time Blaine can hear the underlying frustration and tiredness in his voice, crackling through his words.

"You could stay at my place for tonight," Blaine blurts out before his mind catches up with his words.

Kurts head snaps up, his eyes widening, and exactly at the same moment the rational part of Blaines mind starts ringing alarm bells. He doesnt know this man, knows nothing about him except that his name is Kurt and hes from Kingleysia, wherever that place may be or not be, and god, he could be a crazy sword murderer for all Blaine knows.

Except no one could be that good an actor. Something about Kurt just seems genuine. Blaine doesnt want to say that he himself believes in magical castles, but Kurt obviously does, and Blaine cant just leave him here, wandering around New York all on his own when he clearly doesnt even know the city well enough to watch out for crazy cab drivers.

Tina may think Blaines not the same person anymore as he was back in college, but hes still not a bad person. He doesnt want to be a bad person.

"Really?" Kurt breathes out. "You would- you would really do that for me?"

Blaine hesitates, and then straightens his back, nodding with determination. "Sure. I mean, my couch is pretty comfortable, and besides, were both wet and cold and my apartment isnt that far away anyway, and I assume youre not going to murder me in my sleep with that sword or anything, or rob me or, I dont know, take me for your prisoner so you can blackmail someone to help you get home or-" He notices Kurts amused smile and stops, ducking his head. "Sorry. I was rambling."

"Its alright," Kurt assures him. "I just dont want to impose. And I would never, ever hurt you in any way. You saved me, Blaine. I owe you my life."

Blaine lifts his head, surprised by the conviction in Kurts voice. "You wouldnt be imposing," he says. "We can... We can figure out how to get you back home tomorrow, after a good nights sleep. If you want my help, I mean."

"That would be amazing," Kurt says, reaching out to clasp Blaines hand, his eyes shining. "You are a very... A very brave and kind man, Blaine of New York. An exceptional man."

Blaine laughs again, patting Kurts hand awkwardly. "I really am not, but thank you."

He pulls his hand free, confused by the way the skin of his hand feels almost ticklish once Kurt lets go.

It must be the cold.

---

Kurt is very fascinated by the elevator in Blaines apartment building. Hes very fascinated by everything, to be honest, but the elevator seems to confuse him more than anything else. He keeps asking Blaine how it works and why not use the stairs instead, and telling him that it must be magical when Blaine gives him vague answers - he might understand the basic principle of elevators, but its not like hes an expert on them. At least he seems to know more than Kurt.

"Your buildings are very different from what Im used to," Kurt points out as they step out of the elevator.

"Really?" Blaine asks, pulling his keys from his pocket. "How so?"

"Theyre higher, for starters," Kurt explains, looking around the hallway. He looks confused, and suddenly Blaine can notice how uncomfortably hes holding his shoulders, his whole body, actually, as if hes not seeing anything familiar around himself. "And... narrower. Im more used to big, empty spaces."

Blaine stops and lets out a soft laugh. "I dont know if my apartments the right place for you then."

He turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open, gesturing for Kurt to step in first. Kurt gives him a small, thankful smile and then peeks inside, stopping right in the doorway. Blaine doesnt know what Kurt expected his place to look like, but it really isnt much - a single bedroom, a small living room and an even smaller kitchen, all of it cramped and a little drafty. He keeps the place clean, so theres that at least, but there are still sheet music and books strewn all over the space, things that he has just placed down before rushing to work or falling asleep.

"Oh," Kurt says, looking around. His voice isnt unkind, just curious. "My rooms are at least two or three times bigger than this, just so you know," he adds and glances at Blaine over his shoulder, grinning teasingly.

Blaine laughs, stepping inside himself and closing the door. "What, you live in a penthouse or something?"

"I dont know what that word means," Kurt replies haughtily, "but I do live in a castle. Is a penthouse your version of a castle?"

Blaine freezes. "Castle?" he repeats, suddenly feeling very poor and inadequate with his student loans and his job thats more charity than a well-paid position. Hes still not sure whether or not he should believe everything that comes out of Kurts mouth, but somehow its not that difficult to picture him in a glorious castle, all shining, expensive clothes and plush rooms with pillars and draping tapestries.

Kurt hums. "But I like your house," he says, taking a few slow steps around the living room, looking very much out of place in his cape and boots. "It looks very... comfortable. Like its your home and not just a place where you live."

He gives Blaine a small smile, and Blaine can feel his cheeks heating up. "T-thanks," he stutters. "Ill- Ill go find you some dry clothes. Those must be uncomfortable," he says, gesturing at Kurts ensemble.

"They are, actually." Kurt frowns down at his chest and pulls at the wet fabric of his tunic.

Blaine practically runs into his bedroom, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it. What was he thinking, inviting a complete stranger to his home this late in the evening? No matter how genuine or nice Kurt might seem, hes still a stranger who keeps talking about castles and magic and-

Hes crazy. No, Blaine himself is crazy, getting involved in something like this when he was just telling Tina that he has already grown up and started living in the real world.

Blaine pushes his hands through his damp hair, ignoring the disgusting mess of gel and rainwater that his curls have become. He cant kick Kurt out now. He just cant. Hes not heartless. Maybe hell just have to let Kurt stay here for tonight, like he promised, and then tomorrow he can find out if he has escaped from some mental hospital or if he has robbed Blaine during the night and then disappeared into thin air.

Its so strange - everything Kurt says sounds genuine, like theres nothing out of the ordinary in living in a castle and not knowing how elevators work. Blaine might have gone through some intense zombie apocalypse theories during his time, but he still logically knows how improbable those are. He knows that all the things Kurt has said are just as improbable, that they just cant be true, that theres no way theres an actual living and breathing fairytale prince standing in his living room.

This isnt a dream. This is the real world. Blaine should know it.

But somehow he still cant shake the feeling that Kurt is not lying. That even though it sounds unbelievable and mad, hes telling the truth.

Blaine sighs and pulls his hands away from his hair, wincing at the gel remains on his fingers and wiping them off on his jeans. Hell just deal with this tomorrow. This has been too complicated a day to deal with something like this right now, not without a shower and a few hours to let his mind properly wrap itself around everything. He moves to his dresser, rooting through it until he finds a clean pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt - theyre probably a bit too small for Kurt, because at least the attire hes wearing right now makes him look a lot broader and taller than Blaine - but its the best he can do.

Kurt is sitting on the couch when Blaine comes back, running his fingers over Blaines acoustic guitar, and Blaine immediately notes how careful he is with his movements, as if he somehow instinctively knows how important that guitar is to Blaine.

"Here you go," Blaine announces, placing the clothes on his coffee table. "Theyre probably a bit small for you, but at least its better than wearing wet clothes."

Kurt looks up, blinking his eyes as if he has been lost in his thoughts. "Oh. Thank you."

Blaine fidgets under Kurts gaze. "I... I know theyre probably below your standards and not what youre used to, if you live in a castle and all, so-"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupts, his smile softening, "Im sure theyre fine. Thank you." He glances at the guitar again. "Do you play this instrument?"

Blaine stops, surprised by the sudden question. "Yes?" he answers, turning to look at the guitar himself. Its old, worn-out after years and years of use, but that just means that it feels familiar in his hands. He sometimes feels like he knows his guitar better than he knows his own head or heart. "I mean, I can play the guitar and the piano, but its not like my apartment has enough space for a piano, so guitar it is," he explains.

"That sounds amazing," Kurt says, running his index finger over the guitars wooden body. "Id love to hear you play someday." He looks up at Blaine. "You must be very good at it."

"Its-" Blaine stutters, feeling awkward all of a sudden. "Its more for work, really, I dont... I dont play that much outside of my work. Not unless Im learning a new song or something." Kurts eyes are boring into him, curious and almost a little... disappointed, and Blaine cant seem to meet his gaze anymore. "You should change into those dry clothes," he says instead, taking a step backwards. "Ill go find some blankets for you; it gets pretty cold in here during the night."

He rushes into his bedroom again, away from Kurts eyes that seem to see right inside of him, inside all those changes Blaine made to his life when love let him down one too many times. Kurts expression made him feel shaky, unsure for the first time in a long while, and he takes his time pulling the extra blankets from his closet, changing into some fresh clothes himself and throwing his wet and dirty clothes into the hamper, giving Kurt plenty of time to get finished.

"Kurt?" he calls out once hes done, pushing his bedroom door open and peering into the living room. "Are you decen-"

His words trail off when he sees Kurt. Kurt is lying on the couch on his back, his head placed on one Blaines throw pillows, his eyes closed and his other hand resting over his slowly rising and falling chest. He has changed into Blaines clothes, and the pants are a little short on him, leaving his ankles bare; he has even pushed his toes between the sofa cushion and the arm rest to keep them warm. Kurts own clothes are folded neatly on the floor next to the couch, as far away from the guitar as possible, as if he was worried the dampness would damage the instrument somehow.

Blaine steps closer as quietly as he can, but Kurt doesnt even stir, his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks as he sleeps. He looks... younger. Less like a prince and more like a regular man.

"I guess you really were tired," Blaine says quietly.

He unfolds the blanket in his arms and spreads it carefully over Kurts body, making sure it covers him from neck to toe. Kurt shifts in his sleep, huddling closer to the warmth and letting out a pleased hum, his lips curling into a small smile, and Blaine cant help the smile that spreads over his own face.

His hair is a mess, he has no idea where his boyfriend is or why he missed their date tonight, his best friend is worried about his love life, and theres a strange man sleeping on his couch, looking surprisingly at home for someone whos clearly very far away from home.

Yeah. Maybe he can deal with all of this tomorrow.