Kurt is annoyed. He's not scared anymore, not really – he's just annoyed. Annoyed at his stupid anonymous fan; annoyed at Blaine who has retreated completely and hasn't smiled for more than a day; annoyed at everyone else who thinks he can't handle this or that he should cancel everything and live like a freaking hermit for the rest of his life. He's annoyed because he was questioned by the police yesterday, because he had to answer every little question when he was still feeling overwhelmed by the letter and when he could see Blaine with his tense shoulders waiting for him.

He's annoyed because Blaine is even more distant than he was in the start, because he misses Blaine even though he's in the next room.

"I need to go buy some coffee," Kurt says when he walks into the living room.

Blaine looks up from the book he was staring at and flinches a little. "W-what?"

"Coffee. We're running out of coffee and I refuse to do my work without it."

"Oh." Blaine blinks. He closes the book and then drags his hand over his face. He looks tired, Kurt notices. "Let's go then."

They go to the nearest grocery store. Everything between them has been strained ever since the letter, and Kurt really doesn't want to spend any more time than necessary outside with a sulky bodyguard when he has unfinished sketches waiting for him back home. Blaine stays close to Kurt while they're walking, his eyes glancing here and there, and when there's a group of tourists right in their path his hand lowers down to rest on the small of Kurt's back, steering him away from the group. Kurt leans a little to the touch; it feels professional and awkward, but Blaine hasn't stood this close to him since the letter and Kurt's willing to take what he can right now.

The store has bright lights, and for some reason Blaine keeps blinking his eyes against them. He doesn't say anything though, just follows Kurt to the coffee aisle and to a few other aisles as well. They're already there, so they might as well buy something else for the same effort. They don't talk, both of them going through the motions on autopilot, and for the first time in several days or even several weeks Kurt feels like he has a bodyguard following him, not Blaine.

When they get back to the apartment Blaine excuses himself and retreats to the guest room. Kurt is finally starting to make himself a cup of coffee just the way he likes it when his phone rings in his pocket. Rachel's name is flashing on the screen, so apparently the coffee has to wait.

"Hi Rachel," he answers, and before he can continue Rachel is already talking.

"Oh my god, Kurt! Are you alright? Why didn't you tell me that your anonymous stalker turned out to be really crazy and not polite after all?"

Kurt sighs. He spent an hour on the phone with his dad last night and had completely forgotten to call Rachel. "First of all, yes, I'm fine. One letter can't harm me. Secondly, if I didn't tell you, who did? And thirdly – please don't say I told you so."

"I would never." Rachel huffs dramatically. "I called Wes on business today and he let it slip. But are you really fine? You sound tired, Kurt. Are you sleeping enough?"

Kurt runs his fingers through his hair. He knows he isn't sleeping enough, but he's not going to tell that to Rachel right now. "I'm fine. Of course I was a bit scared yesterday and I spent too much time in a stuffy police station answering questions, but I feel better today. It's still terrifying and I have no idea how that anonymous fan even knew I danced with Blaine, but..."

"Wait a moment. What do you mean 'knew you danced with Blaine'?"

"Oh. I guess Wes didn't tell you that. The letter basically accused me of dancing with a dark-haired man and told me that I could do better and so on." Kurt leans against the counter as he speaks, needing the support. He's fine, but repeating the screaming words from the letter makes him feel a bit uneasy. "I haven't exactly danced with that many men recently, so..."

"Kurt! That's awful! You don't think your fan was at Geoffrey's birthday party, do you?"

"I don't know. There weren't that many photographers at the party, but one of Geoffrey's old friends had gotten the exclusive rights and he posted a few pictures on his blog. I checked them, and there's at least one photo where you can barely make out me and Blaine from the crowd. I... I really don't know, Rachel."

Rachel makes a scared noise. "That's terrible. I was really hoping your fan wouldn't move from letters to actual stalking. How's... How's Blaine doing?"

Kurt looks towards the guest room door. "Not... He's not well, I suppose. The moment he read that letter he retreated completely, and he's been acting distant ever since. I don't think he's spoken more than ten words to me today." He sighs. "And I really need him to be himself right now, not just some professional bodyguard."

Rachel stays silent, obviously waiting for Kurt to continue.

"I think he blames himself for this," Kurt admits quietly after a moment.

"But that's ridiculous!" Rachel exclaims.

"I know. None of this is his fault."

"Have you..." Rachel hesitates. "Have you told him that?"

"Look, Rachel, I know what you're getting at, but I can't talk to him right now. He's completely closed off. Can you believe that he actually said that I should withdraw from the Backstage Talent concert because 'it might be for the best'?" Kurt makes exaggerated quotation marks in the air with his other hand even though Rachel can't see them. It calms him down, somewhat.

Rachel is silent for a moment. "... Maybe you should."

Kurt almost chokes on his words. "What?"

"I'm just saying that obviously this fan knows what events you go to. He's already made references to two of them, and maybe it would be safer for you to –"

"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt snaps. “Et tu, Brute? Et tu? Rachel, you know how much I've been waiting for this concert! I'm not going to back off because of some stupid anonymous fan! I'm not going to give up!"

"Kurt, I'm just saying that..."

"No." Kurt shakes his head. "You know what, I'm not going to listen to this speech for the tenth time. I'll call you later, Rachel."

"Kurt, please –"

Kurt hangs up. It's mean and childish, but it makes him feel accomplished for some weird reason. It doesn't help much though. He's still frustrated and annoyed and pissed off, and he really just wants to yell at somebody right now because fuck, when did his life turn into this mess? He's not going to skip the concert – costume design may be his passion, but he still loves singing and performing as well, and he hasn't gotten the chance to do that in a long time. He's not going to hide, not anymore.

He needs to let his anger out. He needs to yell at somebody. Everyone is treating him like he's incapable of making his own decisions, and Kurt hates not being in control, he hates making people worry about him, he hates how tangled up everything is right now. Maybe he's been too soft on Blaine for these last few days. Maybe he needs to take Rachel's original advice and tell Blaine how he feels, right now.

Sometimes it really is convenient that his bodyguard – god, he hates that word even more today – is currently living in his guest room.

Before Kurt knows it he's marching up to the guest room door and wrenching it open, ready to take out his frustration on Blaine. He knows it's wrong and stupid, but he's too angry to care right now, and after all, this is partly Blaine's fault. He's the one who supported the idea of withdrawing from the concert, the one who has been so annoyingly professional.

The guest room is dark for some reason, and without even stopping to think about it Kurt flicks the light switch on, opening his mouth to let everything out – when a pained whimper stops him.

Blaine is sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders hunched and the heels of his hands pressed tightly against his eyes. He looks smaller than usual, dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and his curly hair is a wild mess.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, confused. The anger inside him deflates in an instant, immediately replaced by worry.

"T-the lights..." Blaine stammers, hunching his shoulder even more. Kurt feels even more confused. He's never heard Blaine stammer like this. "P-please."

The words take a while to register in Kurt's mind, but then he quickly switches the light switch back off. He takes a few tentative steps towards Blaine, his own frustration completely drowned by how different and small and hurt Blaine looks, how... not-Blaine.

Blaine doesn't move, doesn't react in any way, so Kurt takes a few steps more until he's standing right next to the bed. He crouches down, trying to see Blaine's face, but Blaine's hands are still pressed to his eye-sockets, hiding most of his face. Kurt can only make out a few pained lines on his forehead and the tightness around his mouth. There are tiny tremors running through his back, and for a moment Kurt thinks that Blaine's going to cry, and oh god, he's so not ready for something like that right now.

"Migraine," Blaine croaks out silently, still not moving. "Haven't had one in months. Haven't had one this bad in years."

Kurt winces in sympathy – he doesn't get migraines himself, but he knows his fair share of actors and actresses who are often hiding in their dark dressing rooms after a show, after the blinding stage lights have finally stopped shining on their faces. He wants to reach out and rub Blaine's shoulder comfortingly, but something stops him – perhaps it's the sharp contrast between Bodyguard-Blaine from earlier today and this Blaine who's sitting in a dark room looking like he's the one who needs protecting. It's the contrast that also reminds Kurt that Bodyguard-Blaine would probably be horribly ashamed and horrified if his client would comfort him right now or even see him like this.

"You should probably leave me alone," Blaine mutters, proving Kurt's thoughts to be correct. "I'll be fine in a few hours, and I..." Blaine flinches, as if the pain is getting worse. "The doors and windows are all locked, so you should be safe here, and if someone does come in, I can still protect you."

Blaine's voice is muffled and weak, as if he's trying not to aggravate the headache, and Kurt feels something tighten in his chest, imagining this Blaine (hurt, small, hunched over) trying to protect him. Kurt can't help it – he likes to take care of people, especially the people he cares about, and he does care about Blaine.

He stands up quietly, but instead of leaving the room he walks to the window and pulls the curtains more tightly closed until the room is completely dark. He then walks back to the bed and sits down carefully on its edge, keeping a safe distance between himself and Blaine, even though his hand still itches to touch him, comfort him somehow. Blaine has always comforted him, and Kurt almost feels sick when he realizes that he was about to yell at the man who has done nothing to deserve it. Who probably has his own reasons for being so distant.

"Do you need something?" he whispers gently, and wow, wasn't he seething with anger just a few minutes ago? "Painkillers? Coffee?"

Blaine starts to shake his head but stops abruptly. "I already took a painkiller. It should take effect any minute now. I just... I just need to stay here for a while."

Blaine's starting to sound frustrated, and Kurt feels confused again.

"I can still protect you, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't go out right now because I will follow you, it's my job, and then I'll probably pass out and then I won't be able to protect you from anyone and something might happen and I'll... I'll fail. Again. I don't want to fail anymore. I don't want to fail you, I don't, Kurt, I really don't." Blaine's babbling by now, his voice still muffled and croaky, and it breaks completely on Kurt’s name.

To hell with caution, Kurt thinks and puts his hand gently on Blaine's shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "Shh, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere today, okay? I can stay right here. If someone actually gets through the doorman and the elevator and the lock on my front door and tries to hurt me they'll have to come to this room and fight you on your own terms."

The thought of someone breaking into his apartment sounds ridiculous, but Blaine seems to think it's a real possibility right now. Perhaps it's just the migraine talking. Kurt really has nowhere to be today, not anymore; he was going to finish some sketches and maybe catch up on some reading, so staying in is not a problem.

"O-okay." Blaine's shoulder relaxes slightly under Kurt's hand and he slowly lowers his hands from his eyes, squinting in the dark room. His eyes look tired and there's still a certain tightness over his features, but at least the tiny tremors have disappeared.

"You should take a nap," Kurt says and gives Blaine his best comforting smile.

"No, I can't, I have to –" Blaine starts anxiously, his shoulder suddenly tensing again.

"Didn't you hear me?" Kurt asks, squeezing Blaine's shoulder. "I'm staying right here. You can take a nap, and if something happens I swear I'll scream so loudly and so high that you'll wake up and be so irritated that you'll immediately punch anyone who's trying to hurt me."

Blaine huffs at his comment, his eyes wobbly and shining with something wet. Kurt grins back and pushes Blaine's shoulder gently towards the bed until Blaine gives up and complies, curling up on the bed and closing his eyes with a tired sigh. Kurt drapes a blanket carefully over him, smiling when Blaine snuggles into it, the tight lines on his forehead softening and his curls falling over his forehead.

Kurt is moving towards the chair next to the bed when he hears Blaine's voice underneath the blanket. "Do not leave this room. That's an order."

He sounds a bit like Blaine again, a bit silly, and Kurt can't help chuckling. "Yes sir," he replies, picking up a notepad from the table and sitting down.

Blaine's already snoring gently, the lines completely gone from his face, when Kurt suddenly realizes that Blaine had called him by his first name.

-

When Blaine wakes up everything is quiet and dark around him and there's a blanket draped carefully over his body. He feels a little disoriented, like he does every time he sleeps in the middle of the day, but at least his head doesn't feel like it's going to explode anymore.

He hasn't slept this well in ages. He rubs his eyes and turns his head to see Kurt sitting next to his bed, looking at him with a weird expression. There's a notepad in his hands, and Blaine can see flowing lines and soft shadows, the beginnings of an outfit.

"Hi," Kurt whispers.

Blaine shakes his head as he slowly sits up. "No need to whisper, the migraine's gone. How long..." He stops to yawn before continuing. "How long was I asleep?"

"Oh, just a few hours, I think. I didn't really pay attention to time." Kurt blushes, and it's the blush that reminds Blaine of where he is, who he's talking to, and he feels his shoulders stiffen.

Kurt suddenly reaches out his hand but stops before he touches Blaine's shoulder, his hand falling down awkwardly. "I... I was going to make some coffee. Do you want some?"

Blaine starts folding the blanket carefully, trying to keep his eyes away from Kurt, away from the way Kurt's eyes are following his every move. Great, now he made their professional relationship even more awkward, this time with his stupid migraine and his stupid babbling. "Sure, Mr. Hummel, let me just..."

"Blaine."

The tone of Kurt's voice makes Blaine look up. Kurt's eyes are steady and he's staring at Blaine like he wants to make a point.

"I'm going to make some coffee. Just... Come with me, okay? We need to talk."

Kurt doesn't wait for Blaine to answer, just flips his notepad closed and walks out of the room. Blaine sighs and rubs his eyes once more. He has enough experience with relationships – both professional and unprofessional – to know that the words 'we need to talk' always mean something unpleasant. It's like a stupid cliché. He gets up anyways, following Kurt into the kitchen.

Kurt gestures for him to sit, so he does, looking out of the kitchen window. After a few sunnier days it's raining again, big droplets running down the window and making patterns on the glass. Blaine's mind is a litany of I failed once again I made this awkward he's going to fire me isn't he fuck – he doesn't usually swear out loud, but his mind has definitely grown a dirty mouth of its own during the years – and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his temples instead. His head might not hurt anymore, but the muscles in his temples still feel tight, and he massages them slowly with his fingers.

"Are you sure the headache is gone?" Kurt asks when he places a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Yeah." Blaine nods his thanks and takes the cup. "A migraine that bad just leaves my head feeling a little stuffy. But I'm fine."

Kurt sits down opposite him, nursing his own cup between his hands. Blaine takes a sip of his coffee and is surprised to notice that it's just the way he likes it. He had memorized the way Kurt drinks his coffee only after a few days (it's just something he does, he had tried telling himself – he knows Wes' coffee order and Cooper's as well, so it's only natural to know Kurt's), but he had never known that Kurt had done the same. It's... weird, but in a good way.

"Look, Blaine..." Kurt starts.

"Hey, I get it," Blaine interrupts, wanting to let Kurt know how he feels before getting fired. He's 85 % sure he'll get fired. Okay, maybe 95 %. "I know that a bodyguard who first ignores all professionalism and manages to aggravate your anonymous stalker and then spends most of the day in a dark room fighting off a migraine isn't exactly useful or trustworthy. Especially when said bodyguard completely loses the filter between his brain and his mouth during that migraine, and I'm –"

"Wait." Kurt puts his cup down and stares at Blaine like he's suddenly grown an extra head. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I was just going to say that I'm sorry, so sorry for everything and that if you want to hire another bodyguard after today, Mr. Hummel, I completely understand."

Kurt laughs, actually laughs at him right then, and Blaine doesn't know what to think.

"You... You thought I was going to fire you?" Kurt manages to gasp out, but when Blaine just nods, his laughter immediately dies out. "No, Blaine, that's not... I don't want to fire you, absolutely not. Not unless you yourself want to leave?"

"No!" Blaine exclaims, a bit too quickly. He can feel himself blushing, but Kurt just smiles.

"Good. I didn't want to talk to you about something like that. Although now that I think about it, 'we need to talk' isn't probably the most reassuring thing to say." Kurt taps his chin with his index finger. "Anyways. What I actually wanted to talk to you about is that... You're a good bodyguard, Blaine, don't get me wrong, you're great, but I think this whole situation would go a lot better if you – if we trusted each other. We spend pretty much every hour of every day together, in each other's personal space, and it's..." He sighs, obviously stopping to think his next words for a moment. "It's hard for me to have someone constantly following me if I don't know practically anything about them. If I don't trust them."

"You don't trust me?" Blaine asks carefully.

"Oh, I trust you to keep me safe and to protect me, but I would like to trust you on a personal level as well. I'd like you to trust me." Kurt fiddles with his coffee cup, suddenly looking nervous. "I... I don't know how long we're going to be stuck together, but it's already been several weeks and I don't want to feel awkward or uncomfortable around you anymore. I want to be your friend, if that's okay with you, I want you to call me Kurt and I want you to talk to me and be yourself around me and just be the Blaine I saw standing in my hallway all those weeks ago, smiling and looking comfortable with his surroundings. The... The Blaine you almost were before the latest letter."

Blaine feels something tighten in his chest. He doesn't know if it's fear or affection, if it's a good feeling or a bad feeling – it's something in between, something bittersweet, and he knows his annoyingly honest face is probably showing all of his feelings to Kurt right now. Hopefully Kurt isn't as good at reading them as Cooper is.

Kurt tilts his head. "Blaine? Please say something. I feel like I just poured an awful amount of word vomit on you."

Blaine takes a deep breath and tries to steady himself. "No, I just... I don't know if I can be both – a good bodyguard and myself. Like one of them is bound to distract the other."

"You did pretty well at Geoffrey's birthday party," Kurt says with a small shrug. "I kept wondering why you seemed so different that day, why your face looked so expressive and honest, but then I realized that it was just... you being you. You being Blaine, not just Bodyguard-Blaine. But you were still able to steer me away from crowds and protect me. You've been an excellent bodyguard so far. I really mean that, Blaine."

"But I..." Blaine starts, but Kurt interrupts him.

"No, stop it. None of this anonymous fan business is your fault. It's that stupid fan's fault and that's it. I loved how you opened up after that karaoke night and I kept hoping you'd open up even more. And don't tell me that you weren't being a good bodyguard then, because you were. You gave quite convincing commands today as well, even though you were lying on a bed with a ridiculously fuzzy blanket draped over you."

Kurt grins, and the tight feeling in Blaine's chest disappears. He feels like his heart is expanding, like he's feeling too much for the first time in a long while. He knows his own history with caring too much, but he knows Kurt is right as well – he has been himself every once in a while, but he's also been keeping Kurt safe. Kurt is still himself, Kurt is still smiling and doing his job. Blaine has succeeded so far, even if he still thinks the latest letter was at least partly his fault.

It's almost as if being a bodyguard is a role for him, in a way that Dalton-Blaine had been. They're both parts of him, parts of his personality, but they're not Blaine as a whole. Dalton-Blaine was confident and excited, jumping on furniture, singing Top 40 hits and giving advice to everyone that asked for it; and god, some of his advice was horrible. Bodyguard-Blaine, on the other hand, is guarded, distant and professional, not smiling when there's work to do and taking possible threats very seriously. But then again both Dalton-Blaine and Bodyguard-Blaine had their slip-ups. Sebastian Smythe and his overly-confident suggestions made Dalton-Blaine lose his own confidence for a moment, and Kurt Hummel sitting alone in a ballroom full of dancing people made Bodyguard-Blaine let down all his guards.

Perhaps Blaine's not just one of those persons. Perhaps he's the sum of his different personalities, a combination of everything he has been and everything he is now, of distractions and good intentions and flaws. Letting one personality control the others doesn't seem fair, not to himself and not to Kurt. Kurt, who says he needs to trust him, who a few hours ago reached out his hand in a similar way that he himself had done in the ballroom. Both happened in dark rooms, but when Blaine reached out the room was full of people and music, sounds and movement – when Kurt reached out the room was quiet and empty, filled with shadows and silence.

Kurt is still staring at him, expecting an answer. When Blaine looks back, Kurt doesn't avert his eyes.

"I'm not asking you to change completely," Kurt says softly. "I would never ask that. I just want – I need a bodyguard who's being himself. Who doesn't treat me like I’m just a job."

Blaine flinches. He'd never even thought about what his distance might feel like to Kurt. He'd never even considered that it might make Kurt uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," he hastens to say. "I was being too professional and too distant because I thought that it would work."

Kurt smiles. "It might work with other clients, but I've always been a bit more high-maintenance."

"But I'm willing to try," Blaine continues. "You're right. It has been hard, trying not to be too much like myself, but I honestly did it because I wanted to protect you." He doesn't say that he was also protecting himself, protecting his feelings, because it hasn't worked – Kurt has still been himself, a gorgeous man whose personality almost blinds Blaine, and it just doesn't work. No matter how hard he tries his hands still twitch when Kurt looks sad and he still feels his lips tug upwards when Kurt smiles. Yes, he has failed when he has felt too much in the past, but closing himself off doesn't seem to be working either. Maybe honesty will.

He thinks about Dalton-Blaine and what he said to himself every time he felt small and unsure after Sadie Hawkins. Courage. "I don't... Caring hasn't really worked for me in the past. And I care about you, I really do, and I thought that maybe..." Kurt is suddenly staring at him with wide eyes, but Blaine pushes on. "I thought that I would fail if I let you see that I care. Like I couldn't keep you safe if I cared about you."

"Blaine..." Kurt's eyes are impossibly gentle. "I care about you as well. I want us to be friends and I want you to feel like you can talk to me as openly as I talk to you. And I'm not asking all of this... I'm not asking you to be yourself for me – I honestly think it would be better for you as well. At the very least it might prevent future migraine attacks."

Blaine snorts. "Okay. I can... I can try."

"Just don't try too hard," Kurt teases, but his eyes stay serious, as if he's certain that Blaine won't fail. As if he trusts Blaine that much, as if he wants to help Blaine, and Blaine has to wonder when this relationship turned into both of them protecting each other, not just Blaine protecting Kurt.

"I won't, Kurt. I want us to be friends as well," Blaine says and smiles, all himself and with no distance. It probably looks a bit silly, all things considering.

The blinding smile Kurt gives him in return makes Blaine think that he still did the right thing.