The next morning, after a night of intense thinking, Kurt finds Blaine in the kitchen looking out of the window into the still pouring rain. He's completely lost in thought, something Kurt hasn't seen before. Blaine is always observing, always attentive, his gaze following Kurt's movements or passers-by or words on paper, and it feels strange to see his eyes staring into nothing.

Blaine's hair is a mess. His curls are wild and unkempt, sticking into every possible direction, and it looks like Blaine has been running his fingers through them for hours. Kurt's fingers itch to smooth them down, but he knows he can't do that right now. Blaine looks like even the smallest touch could make him revert back to professionalism, back to the distant shell he's been hiding behind.

It's weird. No one, not even his previous boyfriends, has ever managed to make Kurt feel so accepted, so safe and understood as Blaine did last night. No one has ever listened to him like that, not offered any empty words of advice and instead just literally reached out for him. Showed him that he's not as alone as he thinks he is, reminded him that things really are better and that even if he doesn't always feel like it, he does fit in, better than he ever has before. Kurt feels like he's floating above ground, all thanks to Blaine, and not even the awkward memory of everything that happened in the hallway can quell the happiness inside him.

No one has ever made him feel this much.

But at same time he has to wonder what Blaine's high school experience was like. Not at Dalton, but at his other school, the one he hinted at last night. Kurt knows what Dalton is like, has seen the uniforms and read the brochures back in high school. He researched the school when the Warblers were against them for the first time and was jealous of the school's zero-tolerance bullying policy, but he also knew that his dad could never afford the tuition. Wes has told him stories about the school, and it really does sound like a safe haven for everyone. But Blaine said he 'didn't always go to Dalton', the tone of his voice implying that he transferred because of serious reasons, and Kurt wants to ask him what those reasons were, wants to know what happened to Blaine before Dalton, wants to hear his experiences.

But right now Blaine looks like he's about to crack. He looks tired, and for the first time Kurt notices the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Blaine?"

Blaine startles and turns to look at Kurt. "Oh. Morning, Mr. Hummel."

"Did you sleep well?" Kurt asks tentatively.

Blaine shrugs and ignores the question. "There was no mail today."

"Oh, okay." Kurt decides to let the dark circles go for now, since Blaine is obviously not going to tell him about them. He takes a bagel and some cream cheese from the refrigerator and starts to make himself breakfast. "Did you eat already, or have you just woken up?"

"I've been awake for a while. I ate and made coffee. It's probably still warm."

"Thanks."

Silence falls over the room. Blaine stays where he is, leaning against the counter and continuing to stare out of the window. Kurt finishes his bagel and pours himself a cup of coffee and then, after a moment's consideration, pours another cup and turns around to hand it to Blaine. Blaine startles again, but takes the mug from Kurt, murmuring his thanks.

The atmosphere is almost suffocating, and Kurt doesn't want that; he wants to feel happy like he did last night after the dance.

He sighs and sits at the table. "Blaine, we have to talk about last night. This isn't..."

"I know," Blaine interrupts, putting his mug on the counter and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know what happened in the hallway wasn't professional, and I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I just hope we can put it behind us and... move on."

Kurt tilts his head in confusion. "I'm not the one who's uncomfortable here, Blaine. It was a... momentary lapse of judgement, kind of like that night I cuddled you. It's okay. Things like that happen when you're stuck in someone else's personal space twenty-four-seven." He doesn't say that he sort of wishes Blaine had finished what he started, had closed those few remaining inches between them and kissed him. He hasn't been kissed like that in a long time, and he does like Blaine, maybe even more than he can admit to himself. "I just thought that we should talk about it and not leave it hanging in the air."

The curtain falls over Blaine's face, and Kurt feels his heart clench. What? What did he say wrong? They were doing so well yesterday!

"We can talk about it if you want to, Mr. Hummel. I just... I shouldn't have done it." Blaine doesn't meet Kurt's eyes and he crosses his arms over his chest, a sign of how uncomfortable he already feels. "I didn't mean to do it and I'm... I'm sorry I crossed a line. I'm sorry I crossed several lines last night."

Kurt bites his lip and then says quickly, "It was nice."

That makes Blaine raise his head and look at Kurt, his eyes wide and confused. "You... What?"

"I know it wasn't professional and I know that you probably didn't mean anything by it, but it was nice, okay?" Kurt explains. "Last night was nice – dancing with you and laughing with you and... everything. It made me feel like I fit in, like I finally had some company at an event. I forgot all this anonymous fan business for a moment and just enjoyed my life. And not even an awkward moment in my hallway can ruin that, so you have nothing to be sorry for and you can stop apologizing, and fine, we can ignore it and move on if it makes you feel better because honestly, watching you look that uncomfortable is making me feel bad and I don't want to feel bad right now when yesterday was so great and I have an amazing script waiting for me, and god, I'm babbling, please tell me to stop already?"

Blaine smiles at him. "You can stop."

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Blaine's arms fall down again and he takes his coffee. "So... we're okay?"

Maybe they should talk about it more, but Kurt doesn't feel like admitting his own feelings, not yet – and he doesn't want to make Blaine any more uncomfortable than he already is.

"Yes. Just like you said we were okay after my cuddling, I'm saying that we're okay now." Kurt looks at Blaine, hoping he looks as sincere as he feels. "You were really great last night, Blaine, and I'm not uncomfortable. I'm just grateful that you listened to me like that."

The corner of Blaine's mouth tugs upwards. "Always."

Kurt feels his breath catch. Where on earth has this Blaine been hiding? This Blaine who goes from uncomfortable and distant to understanding and open in a second, who can't stop smiling at him and who looks so kind that Kurt wants to tell him his whole life story because he knows Blaine would understand and make him feel better? He shakes his head to clear his mind and looks at Blaine who is fiddling with his coffee cup.

"Sit down, you're making me feel nervous with that fidgeting," Kurt laughs.

Blaine grins but takes a seat opposite Kurt. "So do you have any other events coming up that I should know of?" he asks.

Kurt swallows a mouthful of his coffee. (Note to self: Blaine makes damn good coffee.) "Mm, not for a few weeks actually. The next one is this big charity concert in about three weeks."

"You're singing there, aren't you?" When Kurt raises his eyebrows, Blaine shrugs. "Wes told me about it when I first came here."

"Yes, I am singing. The whole idea of the concert is to showcase the talents of people who are usually working backstage. Apparently someone realized that quite many costume and set designers or lighting technicians and sound engineers have performing talents as well. I can sing, obviously," Kurt sniffs and Blaine grins, "and I know this one set designer who can play the piano like an actual concert pianist. There are others as well, so someone organized a meeting, got us all together and now we have our own Backstage Talent Association. Sort of to remind us that we're not boxes – that we have more than four sides to us. All the profits from this concert go to supporting theater programs in schools, so it's even for a good cause."

Blaine's eyes start to shine when Kurt says the word school. "That sounds great! Some schools have really appalling programs or no theater at all. The arts deserve all the support they can get."

"That's the biggest reason why I agreed to perform." Kurt smiles. "I mean, of course I love performing and every chance to show how good I am is extremely welcomed. Costume design is my biggest passion, but singing will always be kind of my first love. It's hard to forget how good it made me feel."

Blaine opens his mouth, as if he's about to share some detail about his own professional dreams, but then seems to decide otherwise, just smiling at Kurt instead. "I can understand that. You were great at that karaoke bar."

Kurt blushes. "Thank you." Brushing his bashfulness aside he perks up. "Anyways, I'm really looking forward to that concert. I haven't been that active in organizing it, but everything I've heard about it sounds amazing. It will be a real spectacle."

"I'm sure of it." Blaine takes a sip of his coffee. "But you don't have any other events coming up?"

Kurt thinks for a moment. "No, not unless something unexpected pops up. That's actually a good thing, because I really do have to spend a lot of time working with the costumes for that new script."

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "Oh? Can you tell me what it's about, or is it a big secret? I've never known anyone who works directly with theater before, and I'm... intrigued.”

"I guess I can tell you – but only if you promise not to tell a soul about the plot because it's all very hush-hush."

"Deal. I can keep a secret."

I bet you do, Mr. Full-of-Surprises-and-Secrets, Kurt thinks.

-

The phone rings five times before Rachel picks up and starts rambling immediately.

"Kurt, my dear, as much as I love hearing your voice and knowing that you're doing fine, my dads are having their anniversary and we just came back from a lovely dinner, and they asked me to sing for them, and you know how they get when performances start late – I still need to decide between Céline Dion and Barbra, or maybe I could even sing some Liza, and right now really isn't the –”

"He almost kissed me," Kurt blurts out.

There's a moment of silence, and then Rachel is practically screaming into his ear, "What? Who almost kissed you?"

"Blaine." Kurt takes a deep breath. "We went to Geoffrey's birthday party last night, and Blaine asked me to dance and was really lovely the whole evening, and then we came home and he leaned closer and almost kissed me."

Rachel squeals. "See? I was right! He does like you! What happened then?"

"He ran away."

"What? Why would he do that?" Someone, probably either one of Rachel's dads, says something in the background, and Rachel shushes them.

Kurt sighs. "Rachel, Blaine's my bodyguard. I'm his client. We can't... We have to keep things professional."

"Why?" Rachel asks, sounding honestly confused. "You've seen The Bodyguard, haven't you? Kevin Costner had an affair with Whitney Houston."

"Yes, but I'm not exactly Whitney and Blaine isn't Kevin Costner."

"But you like him, don't you?" Rachel insists.

Kurt stares at the wall of his bedroom so long that Rachel repeats the question. "I don't know, Rachel. I honestly don't know." He sighs. "You remember what he was like when I hired him, don't you? He's opened up so much during these past few days, talking more and just smiling and laughing, but I still feel like he's hiding so many things about himself. And he's always ready to retreat back to that professionalism, always ready to hide himself again, and I wish he would just... be himself. Maybe then I could figure out just how much I like him."

Rachel hums on the other end of the line. "Well, I did suggest that you give him some time, and obviously that has worked. But maybe giving him time won't work anymore. You don't even know how long he's going to be your bodyguard."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt frowns.

"It means that you should enjoy it while it lasts. Make the best of the situation, and maybe give him a little nudge. Show him that you want him to be himself. Or tell him how you feel."

Kurt scoffs. "We're not really at that stage in our relationship yet."

"Kurt." Rachel says his name like she's talking to a child. "I love you and you're my best friend and one of the bravest people I have ever known, but sometimes I just want to smack you on the head for being so stupid. He almost kissed you! Obviously you're not the only one who's confused about your relationship. If he doesn't take the first step, you have to do it. If you don't even try, you lose by default."

Kurt laughs. "Where did you learn that?"

He can almost hear Rachel’s smile. "From you."

Kurt ducks his head. Rachel's right, as she is scarily often these days. "Okay. But I'm... I'm not going to tell him today. We just dealt with the awkwardness of last night, at least in some way – even though I have to admit that it was pretty confusing – and I don't want to drive him back to being uncomfortable right away."

"Just don't wait too long," Rachel sing-songs. "I'm sure he'll be relieved when you talk to him."

Kurt bites his lip. "I just don't want to mess this up," he mutters.

"Kurt? What did you say? I didn't catch that."

"I said that Céline Dion would be a good choice," Kurt says louder, keeping his uncertainty out of his voice.

"What?"

"You should sing Céline Dion," Kurt explains. "It's your dads' anniversary and they deserve a big sappy love song. And I bet you've sung something by Barbra to them already."

Rachel gasps theatrically. "You know me too well."

-

From Blaine:
I almost kissed him.

From Cooper:
Kissed who, B?

From Blaine:
Kurt of course. Who else could I be almost-kissing?

From Cooper:
FINALLY!!!!!!
Wait. Almost kissed?

From Blaine:
I stopped myself and ran away.

From Cooper:
How classy, squirt.

From Blaine:
Don't call me that.

From Cooper:
I'm just saying that your e-mails have been about him and him only. Seriously, have you even talked to Wes after you came there or have you just been mooning over your client?

From Blaine:
Oh god. Wes. What if he finds out that I almost kissed his best client?
And I have not been mooning over Kurt! I just spend every hour of every day with him. What else could I talk about?

From Cooper:
I'm sure Wes would understand. He's cool.
And I don't know, the weather? New York? Whatever books you're reading? Yourself? I don't even know how you are when all you talk about is Kurt this and Kurt that.

From Blaine:
Sorry. I'm...
I'm okay.

From Cooper:
That doesn't sound convincing.

From Blaine:
It's just been hard. I really care about him, Coop. I don't want to screw this up.

From Cooper:
Oh Blainey, you gotta have some trust in yourself. You've been doing that distancing yourself thing again, haven't you? Trust me, you're not gonna screw things up.

From Blaine:
I ALMOST KISSED HIM.
How is that not screwing things up?

From Cooper:
Was he angry?

From Blaine:
No.
He was really understanding.
He said it was nice.

From Cooper:
THEN WHAT'S THE PROBLEM??????

From Blaine:
Are you being intense? Is there pointing involved?

From Cooper:
Stop making fun of my methods and tell me what the problem is.

From Cooper:
Blaine? Are you still there?

From Blaine:
I shouldn't care about him this much. I shouldn't.
It won't work.
It will just ruin everything.

-

They go running again the next day. Blaine is smiling and bouncing on his feet when they're leaving, and Kurt thinks he looks absolutely ridiculous. When Blaine notices Kurt's fond smile, he stops and retreats a little, his smile falling into a smaller one and his heels dropping back to earth.

Kurt thinks about what Rachel said and opens his mouth to say something, to say that even if Blaine is his bodyguard he doesn't have to be so distant, that he can be his silly and adorable self. To say that he thinks he really, really likes Blaine – but then he remembers how quickly the curtain had covered Blaine's face yesterday morning, how immediate the change had been, and he doesn't want to make Blaine retreat any further.

So he just continues smiling, falls into step next to Blaine and lets him be his bodyguard.

The same keeps happening during the next few days. Blaine is more open, he smiles more and talks more, but he still retreats a little every time Kurt smiles to him or compliments him or asks his opinion about something. Kurt is purposefully asking Blaine's opinion about practically everything, about the food they're going to eat, about the weather, about the books Blaine's reading, about the television shows they end up watching in the evenings. He's trying to draw Blaine out, see how far he can make him open up. And Blaine is opening, but Kurt still feels like they’re hitting a certain barrier of professionalism each time they talk, like there's some line Blaine won't cross, and Kurt can't bring himself to tell him about his feelings. Not when they're at least staying still in a nice situation. Not when Blaine is already trying so hard. Who is he to force Blaine out of his shell anyway? He's just Blaine's client.

And if Blaine seems a little disappointed in himself every time he stops and retreats, as if he doesn't really want to do it but still does it because of his own reasons, there's really nothing Kurt can do.

That's what he keeps telling himself, silencing the nagging voice inside his head that keeps repeating that he should just tell Blaine everything and share his own secret thoughts, show Blaine that they could at least be friends. The nagging voice sounds annoyingly like Rachel.

-

A few days later Kurt walks into the kitchen in the morning, his head still muffled from sleeping too little, and finds Blaine sitting at the kitchen table staring at a letter. Blaine's shoulders are impossibly tense, his whole back rigid, and his brows are twitching almost unnoticeably.

"Blaine? Is everything alright?" Kurt asks and rubs his eyes. He stops behind Blaine and blinks his eyes to see the letter Blaine is holding.

"This came in the mail," Blaine croaks, his voice breaking on the last word.

It's a nondescript white envelope addressed to Mr. Kurt Hummel with no return address. Kurt feels his own shoulders tense as well and sighs. Getting reminders from his anonymous fan will never be nice, but it feels even more annoying after all these good days.

The good days, alongside with Blaine's small smiles and open eyes have, however, made him feel braver once again, so he takes the envelope from Blaine and rips it open.

He expects Dear Mr. Kurt Hummel and compliments that make him want to vomit because the contrast between the sweet words and the feeling of someone invading his privacy is so stark. He isn't expecting big and black typed letters screaming at him from the paper, exclamation marks and words that have been underlined with thick angry lines, all pleasantries and manners forgotten.

He reads some of the words, understands slowly what they mean – I SAW YOU AT THAT PARTY. I SAW YOU DANCING WITH THAT JOKE OF A MAN, A DARK-HAIRED IDIOT WHO DOES NOT DESERVE YOU. HE DOES NOT HAVE THE SAME IMPECCABLE TASTE IN CLOTHES AS YOU DO. WHY WERE YOU DANCING WITH HIM? WHY WERE YOU LAUGHING WITH HIM? YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? – and then he has to let go of the now rumpled letter and lift his hands over his mouth because he feels like he's going to be sick, right there and then.

The letter falls on the table, and before Kurt can stop him Blaine's already taken it, straightened it out and begun to read it. Kurt watches his face because he can't look at the stupid angry words on the letter anymore, and maybe Blaine will smile comfortingly and make everything better.

Instead he sees the moment when realization dawns on Blaine's face, probably when he reads the words about a dark-haired man, and suddenly Kurt wants to scream in frustration. The defenses are coming back so fast, the curtain falling over Blaine's face and his expressive eyes, dimming everything. All the doors Kurt had managed to open, all the progress they had made, they're all slamming shut right in front of him, and Kurt's hand reaches out on its own, as if he could stop Blaine from retreating if he just touched him, if he just got through to him.

Blaine flinches away from his touch and drops the letter back on the table, standing up so fast that he almost knocks over the chair he was sitting on.

"I shouldn't... This is my fault," he whispers. There are no emotions in his voice, just detachment, just professional failure. No Blaine, just bodyguard.

"No, Blaine –" Kurt starts, hearing the desperate tone of his own voice. He doesn't want his bodyguard right now, he wants Blaine. Blaine with his smiles and kind eyes and always moving hands. Blaine with his warm arms around him when they dance to old swing classics, with his breath ghosting over his lips in the dark hallway.

Blaine shakes his head and doesn't even look at Kurt. "I'm... I'm sorry. So sorry. I'll call Wes and let him know," he says, like this is all just business, just a job, but no matter how distant he looks like Kurt can still hear the small tinge of fear and sadness in his voice. He's listening more carefully than usual, catching every nuance of Blaine's voice for his own sake, and it almost sounds like Blaine's saying he's sorry for other things than the letter as well, like he's sorry for everything that has happened.

Blaine turns his back on him (still tense, still rigid) and leaves the kitchen. Kurt closes his eyes, trying to block the tears he can feel stinging his eyes. Isn't it enough that his stupid anonymous fan has to irritate him and make him scared and attack his privacy? Does he have to drag Blaine down as well, destroy everything they have won?

-

Wes drives them to the police station. The drive is quiet and tense, and even Wes seems to sense that this is not the time and place for encouraging pep-talks. Blaine doesn't look at Kurt – he can't see the worried lines on his forehead right now, so he just stares out of the car window at the buildings, cars and people flashing by, preparing himself for being a bodyguard when they have to step out of the car and walk to the station. He needs to protect Kurt, needs to ignore everything else and just make sure that Kurt is okay, that Mr. Hummel is safe.

It's still hard to ignore the chants screaming in his head, the words from the letter mixing with everything else. He slipped too far, he let himself lower his defenses and care too much – and here they are, the polite anonymous fan suddenly turning aggressive, and it's all Blaine’s fault. He wanted to dance with Kurt, he kept smiling and talking and acting like himself, he forgot that he's a bodyguard, he almost kissed Kurt, he made the anonymous fan drop the kind words and politeness.

He screwed up. He cared and he failed.

Blaine wants to pull at his hair, wants to find a punching bag and hit it until his knuckles hurt, wants to scream because he's an idiot and he should have known better. But he can feel Kurt's eyes on him, and he stays still under the scrutiny, keeping his face distant and professional. What he wants to do most of all is to turn around and beg for forgiveness (it's all his fault, all his fault –), promise Kurt that he won't slip anymore, that he will keep things professional.

Except begging like that wouldn't be professional. When he doesn't stay professional things like this happen, so he needs to make things right, starting now.

The police station is huge. It would be too easy to get lost in the fluorescent lights and hallways and rooms, but Wes leads them through the maze. Wes has always worked best under pressure, but Blaine has never seen him so determined, so angry almost, and there's another thing that's Blaine's fault as well. There are interviews and questions and answers, Levinson and a few other police officers writing everything down and taking the letter to evidence, and Levinson keeps suggesting preliminary precautions for Kurt ("it's just a letter and there's no actual threat in it, but I'd like to make sure...") – but for some reason Kurt keeps turning them down. He denies every proposition and looks pointedly at Blaine while doing it.

Blaine doesn't know why. He's clearly the worst bodyguard ever, and Kurt shouldn't trust him that much.

The way Kurt's staring at him is giving him some new determination though. If Kurt really does still trust him, Blaine's not going to let him down anymore. He's going to be professional, so professional that even Cooper wouldn't recognize him, he's going to suppress all the feelings he has, as hard as it is, and keep Kurt safe.

A little later, when the young police officer with a ponytail has stopped asking Blaine questions and he's just waiting for everyone else, Kurt walks to him looking annoyed and sits down next to him on the narrow bench.

"Levinson thinks that I should withdraw myself from the concert," Kurt huffs.

Blaine doesn't say anything, doesn't even turn to look at Kurt, even though it kills him not to. Professional. Professional, professional, professional.

"He said that since the anonymous fan obviously seems to know which events I'm attending I should skip the next one, just to be safe," Kurt continues, his voice cutting and angry.

It's Blaine's fault.

"Maybe you should," Blaine says carefully. That's what a bodyguard would say. He knows it's not what Kurt wants to hear, and he knows that Kurt wants to keep living his life, knows it because he wants the same thing. Kurt is brave and deserves the spotlight, and Blaine wants Kurt to be free. But as a bodyguard he can't say that out loud. Not when things have already gone so wrong.

Kurt turns to stare at him, looking incredulous. "What?"

Blaine keeps his eyes on the wall in front of him. "It might be for the best."

"I can't believe – Blaine." Kurt’s voice has suddenly gone inexplicably soft. "Blaine, please. Look at me."

Blaine is saved from fighting against his feelings by Wes who walks up to them and says that they can go. Kurt sighs and gets up, Blaine following him instantly, and Wes pats Blaine's shoulder when he walks past him. It's not one of Wes' patented pats this time; it's a comforting pressure on Blaine's shoulder, but it doesn't help at all.

-

The rest of the day is completely silent. Kurt stays in his office, says that he wants to get some work done, and Blaine checks and rechecks every lock in the apartment, calls the doorman and asks him not to let anyone unfamiliar through ("I'm not an idiot, Mr. Anderson. Mr. Hummel's agent already told me about the situation."), and then just sits in the living room, staring at the book on his lap and not reading. His head feels tight in a way that doesn't promise anything good, but he needs to focus, he needs to stay alert. He needs to make amends.

After everything he owes that to Kurt.