They promise each other to take things slowly and naturally, to let everything move at its own pace. Then they promptly spend the rest of the evening talking about their favorite foods and colors (Kurt likes all the colors, especially the ones that are in fashion; Blaine likes red and green and grey), about the movies they've seen, about the TV shows they like and the music they listen to. They're slowly getting to know each other, as if it was the first time they met, but it's still different. When Kurt mentions that he loves old Broadway songs and The Beatles, Blaine nods and says, "I've noticed"; when Blaine says that he has a soft spot for really trashy reality shows, Kurt laughs and says, "yeah, I've seen your face when the Bachelorette is on". Both of them have already spent time noticing these little things during the last few weeks, and Kurt can feel his own cheeks burning with embarrassment. Blaine's cheeks are bright as well, but he's smiling goofily, so maybe it's all okay.

When Kurt is lying on his bed that night he feels happier than he has in months, happy for a reason he's never been happy before. Stupid anonymous fan is completely forgotten for a moment, and he's just excited about tomorrow, about the new chances to see Blaine's smile and to hear him talk. He really does like Blaine, even more so now that the curtain's completely gone and he can see Blaine genuinely. The change in Blaine had been almost instant, like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and Kurt can't believe Rachel was actually right, that all he had to do was open his mouth and be honest.

He also can't believe that he's this happy and he still can't sleep.

He tosses and turns, stares at the ceiling, thinks about every outfit he's ever designed, thinks about the most boring things he can come up with (Mr. Schuester's vest collection and monotonous documentaries among other things), but he still can't fall asleep. He hasn't slept well ever since this anonymous fan business started. He's slept a few hours here and there, enough to keep him going and to stay alert during the day, but he still has trouble falling asleep, trouble getting a whole night of sleep without interruptions.

Kurt turns over on his back and groans. It's frustrating. He knows he's safe, knows that Blaine is sleeping in the next room and that his apartment is secure. He has nothing to worry about, but when the apartment is silent and dark around him he can hear his own thoughts going around too loudly inside his head, the words from the letters taunting him. Everything sounds louder in the darkness, and Kurt wishes he could just cover his ears and sleep.

God, he can't even remember the last time he slept the whole night through.

Wait. Actually he can. It was that awkward night after the karaoke bar when he was drunk and spent the whole night cuddling Blaine. Kurt huffs. Maybe he should find the bottle of wine he has in the kitchen and drink it all in one go to get some sleep... Except he also slept quite well that night he woke up on his office couch after Blaine found him drooling over his sketches. Two nights of good sleep in the last few weeks, and what do those two nights have in common?

Blaine.

Kurt sits up on his bed. It isn't exactly taking things slow, he knows that, but just being in the same room with Blaine has always managed to calm him down. And it would be just sleeping! Nothing more. He doesn't even expect anything more to happen. Besides, Blaine might have already fallen asleep (he probably has, after that migraine), and Kurt certainly wouldn't have the heart to wake him and would immediately return to his own room if Blaine was sleeping. So he's just going to... check up on Blaine. That's all. If he's hoping that Blaine's awake as well and that he can crash on the comfortable guest room chair tonight, that's honestly all there is to it.

Kurt gets up, makes sure he looks decent and then pads quietly through the dark hallway to the guest room. To Blaine's room, he corrects himself. The door is ajar, and Kurt stops in the doorway. Blaine's sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard and a book on his lap.

"Can't sleep?" Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine lifts his head and smiles a little when he sees Kurt. It's strange, the way Blaine has always smiled when he has met Kurt's eyes after their conversation. Strange but nice.

"Yeah. I thought reading would help but so far it hasn't." Blaine closes the book and sets it aside.

Kurt bites his lip. "So... I know we promised to try being honest with each other from now on, and I have to confess something."

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"I haven't slept properly ever since that first letter came to my address."

Blaine looks surprised at first, but then his face softens. "Then I have to confess something as well: Me neither."

Kurt frowns. "Wait, really? You don't have to say that just to make me feel better about my own sleep deprivation."

Blaine laughs quietly. "No, I'm being honest. Today was the first time I slept more than two hours straight."

"Oh my god, Blaine!" Kurt exclaims. He steps into the room, remembering the dark circles he's seen under Blaine's eyes for days, the way Blaine looks in the mornings, and almost slaps himself for not realizing anything sooner. "You really haven't slept properly for weeks? How's that possible?"

Blaine shrugs, obviously trying to play it down. "I have an overactive imagination? And I've always had trouble sleeping when I'm... stressed."

"No wonder you got a migraine," Kurt mutters. "Why didn't you say anything to me earlier?"

"Why didn't you say anything about your own sleeping problems?" Blaine counters.

Kurt's shoulders fall down. Blaine's right. They've both been hiding things from each other, trying to be strong on their own even though they're in this situation together.

"You're right. Sorry," he says and then takes a deep breath. "While we're being honest I have another confession to make as well. I... Um. This is a little embarrassing." He looks at Blaine, half-expecting to see a teasing smile, but Blaine's eyes are calm and understanding, waiting for him to finish without any judgement. "I've had two nights of really good sleep during these weeks."

Blaine tilts his head. "Two nights? I'm not sure I..."

"The first one was when you moved me on the couch," Kurt goes on, while he still has the courage to say it all, "and the second one was that night I was drunk and... cuddled you." Blaine still looks a little confused, so Kurt takes a deep breath and explains the point. "Those two nights have one thing in common. You."

Blaine frowns. "So you..."

"I sleep better when you're near me, as weird as it sounds. Sorry."

"No, no need to be sorry," Blaine says. "I get it. I'm the one protecting you, after all."

You're more than that, Kurt wants to say, but that's a whole other level of honesty and he's not sure if he's ready for that yet. "So... I was thinking I could sleep here tonight. If that's alright with you."

"Oh." Blaine’s eyes widen but his calming smile stays in place. "Um. Sure. Why not."

The anxious weight over his chest falls away, and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh god, thank you. I don't even know if this will work, but I've tried pretty much everything else and I really need to sleep if I want to finish those sketches someday." He takes an extra pillow from the closet and moves towards the chair next to the bed.

"Kurt."

Blaine's voice stops him. He's heard Blaine say his first name a few times now, but it still sounds new and exhilarating, the way Blaine stretches the vowel and how sharp yet soft the last sound is. It sounds so much better than Mr. Hummel, and it makes Kurt stop for a moment every time.

"You can't sleep on that chair, Kurt. That's just ridiculous," Blaine says when Kurt turns to look at him.

"Well where then..." Kurt starts, but Blaine's already scooting over, moving to the other side of the double-sized bed and making more room for Kurt. Kurt's breath catches in his throat.

"If you sleep on that chair you'll have a terrible crick in your neck tomorrow and then you can forget about finishing those sketches," Blaine explains while rearranging the pillows on his bed.

His bed. On which he thinks Kurt should sleep. Oh god.

Blaine stops when he raises his head and sees the look on Kurt's face. His hands immediately reach out in a calming motion. "I mean... It would just be more comfortable for you and I would naturally stay on the other side of the bed, just sleeping, but if the thought of sharing a bed with me makes you uncomfortable you can take the bed and I'll go sleep on the..."

Kurt shakes his head. "No, Blaine, it's... It's fine. It's better than fine, really. I trust you."

"Didn't you say that you only trust me professionally just a few hours ago?" Blaine grins.

Kurt blushes. "That was then, okay?" It’s been almost a year since he last shared a bed with someone, but the guest room bed is large and there's more than enough room for both of them. Besides, just knowing that Blaine would be sleeping right next to him, within his reach, is making Kurt feel calmer than he has for several nights.

"This is sort of professional, though," Blaine adds as an after-thought. "With you sleeping here I can be sure that you're safe during the night and I don't have to imagine all these horrible things."

Kurt climbs on the bed and looks at Blaine. "Really? Are those the thoughts that have been keeping you up at night?"

"Oh." Blaine scrunches up his face. "Yes?"

Kurt smiles. "Same here." He flops down on the bed and pulls the comforter over himself. There are several inches between them, but Blaine's weight on the other side of the bed is an unexpected comfort.

"You're sure this is alright?" Blaine asks one more time.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now let me try and catch some sleep."

Blaine laughs softly and reaches out to turn off the small reading lamp over the headboard. The room falls into darkness and Kurt can hear Blaine rustling for a moment, snuggling closer to his own pillow, until he sighs contently.

"Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt smiles and closes his eyes. "Goodnight, Blaine."

-

It's warm when he wakes up. Warmer than usually. Kurt has always, ever since he can remember, been the person who gets cold ridiculously easily, so he has learned to sleep with a thick comforter or two. It's not unusual for him to wake up in a cocoon of warmth, buried under a mountain of blankets and pillows – but this is different. This warmth feels different. Heavier.

Kurt snuggles closer to the warmth, still not completely awake. Something heavy is draped over his chest, but the weight isn't suffocating or too much. It's perfect, and Kurt sighs happily and moves his own hand over the weight. It feels suspiciously like a warm arm. A warm, long arm with fine hairs that tickle his fingers.

Someone mumbles next to him, and Kurt's eyes snap open.

Blaine is the warmth next to him. Blaine, who has moved closer to him during the night, who has cuddled up to Kurt with his arm flung over Kurt's chest and who is using Kurt's shoulder as a pillow. Blaine, whose face is so close that Kurt could count the impossibly long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Blaine, whose leg is twitching next to Kurt's hip.

Kurt tenses. Oh my god. What is he supposed to do now? What is it with him and Blaine – they seem to attract awkward situations every time they're near each other at night, and Kurt really doesn't want to have another uncomfortable discussion about the boundaries of their relationship, not when he's feeling so rested and comfortable and good.

... Rested?

Kurt turns his head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It's twenty minutes over nine in the morning. He can't remember when he fell asleep, but it was quite soon after he wished Blaine goodnight. He's apparently slept through the whole night for the first time in weeks, and his head feels clearer, his whole body more refreshed than it has in, well, weeks.

Kurt turns back to look at the man lying next to him. Blaine is snuffling softly, the movements of his eyelids almost unnoticeable. He looks calm and content in a way Kurt hasn't seen before, and Kurt has to stop for a moment just to stare at him. He knows he's verging on creepy right now, but he hasn't woken up with a gorgeous man curled up next to him in a long time, never with a man as gorgeous as Blaine, and he deserves to linger for a while longer.

Maybe this isn't awkward after all. It doesn't feel awkward to Kurt. He's had sleepovers with his friends before, has woken up with either Rachel or Mercedes or both of them curled up next to him several times, and this... This is intimate and not at all professional, but at the same time it's impossibly natural: the way Blaine's head fits against the curve of his neck, the way his fingers are splayed over his ribs. Blaine fits next to him, and the thought makes something inside Kurt shiver.

Kurt's bladder is slowly starting to make its presence known, so he shifts closer to the edge of the bed. Blaine makes a small noise of complaint, clinging even closer to Kurt, and Kurt's heart melts. He wishes he could just stay here, in this perfect moment. The cold sunlight is streaming into the room from the small crack between the curtains, and there are minuscule flecks of dust drifting across the beam of light. The apartment is completely quiet around them, the voices of the city muffled by the nine floors between the street and Kurt's apartment. Blaine is soft and warm against him, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Kurt's neck.

Kurt wishes he could stay here forever. Could wake up next to Blaine for the rest of his life.

The thought startles him. He's known Blaine for a few weeks, most of which Blaine has spent being distant and detached. They've only officially been friends for less than a day, and there are still so many things Kurt doesn't know about Blaine – why he dropped out of college, what he wants to do with his life, what his family is like, what made him want to study teaching. But Kurt has already gotten used to Blaine's presence in his life. He can't imagine what it will be like when this anonymous fan mess is over and Blaine goes back to his own life in Los Angeles or wherever it is that he wants to go. Just the idea of the apartment being empty again, void of Blaine's books and the sound of his feet against the floor makes Kurt cling to Blaine a bit tighter.

He doesn't know what this feeling is, doesn't understand it, doesn't comprehend the effect Blaine has on him. It almost scares him. He's Kurt Hummel, an independent soul who doesn't trust people easily, who stays guarded around strangers and who has loved living on his own. Blaine hasn't done almost anything, but still he has managed to make Kurt realize how lonely he's been, how empty his apartment has been and how much like an outsider he feels at every event he goes to, even if he's a part of the Broadway world now. He has everything he's ever dreamed of, but somehow Blaine has managed to remind him how there's still been something (someone) missing.

His stomach growls almost painfully after a few minutes, and reluctantly Kurt moves Blaine's head to rest against the pillow and lifts his arm from his chest. A questioning noise makes its way through Blaine's lips, but he doesn't wake up, just curls up deeper into the comforter. His short curls have fallen over his forehead, and Kurt brushes them away, letting his fingers linger for a moment longer. A small smile rises to Blaine's lips at the touch, and Kurt smiles as well before he gets up and with a final glance to Blaine's sleeping form walks out of the room.

-

Blaine wakes up to the feeling of drool dripping down his chin. It's disgusting. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and groans. It's too hot under all the blankets, too suffocating, and he kicks the comforter away, straightening his legs and stretching his arms over his head until he hears a few satisfying pops from his joints and bones.

The room is yellow around him, the sunlight shining brightly through the curtains, and Blaine can still taste sleep in his mouth. He actually slept the whole night through, without any interrupting thoughts or overactive visions. It's easy to remember and understand why he'd finally slept when he can still see the imprint Kurt's head has left on the pillow when he turns his head. Kurt himself is nowhere to be seen, but Blaine can hear silent clangs from the kitchen, the sounds of someone making breakfast.

Blaine flops back down on the bed and stares at the patterns the sunlight is making on the walls. He feels better than he has for days. More like himself, more sure of himself. He still thinks that the latest letter was at least partly his fault, but he doesn't think he should try to be so distant anymore. On the contrary – he actually regrets not being honest from the get-go. It could have saved both him and Kurt a lot of trouble judging from the way Kurt's been smiling for the past day, how safe he has looked like, and how safe Blaine has felt.

Blaine doesn't have the best history with caring too much. There have been too many instances in his past when caring or feeling too much has made him fail, has hurt him somehow. He could probably blame all his failures on it, and it's always been hard for him to open up completely, to let other people see how he really feels. Blaine knows it, has always known it, but that doesn't mean he's learned how to deal with it. He still distances himself, even from people he knows well, from people he trusts. All of them – his parents, Cooper, Wes, some of his other friends – have tried to draw him out several times, failing more often than succeeding.

But there's something about Kurt that makes him succeed almost every time. Blaine feels more like himself around Kurt, feels like he can be himself, like he can let his emotions show. That's what scared him in the first place, the way Kurt made him immediately feel as if he could bare everything, let all of his ugly flaws and failures show. It definitely constituted as feeling too much, and that's the reason he tried to stay professional. To not let Kurt become another failure. To keep Kurt safe, and to protect himself from another train wreck.

It just didn't work with Kurt. Blaine's body and mind kept betraying him whenever Kurt looked sad, whenever Kurt asked him something, whenever Kurt was just in the same room with him. He started slipping more and more, and here they are now.

To his surprise Blaine realizes that he doesn't actually mind being here.

He doesn't think he's ever been in love before – he thought that he was, once or twice, but isn't love supposed to be a mutual feeling? He doesn't have much experience from love, but Blaine still knows that if he let himself, he could fall in love with Kurt. With Kurt's hair that always looks impeccable, with the way his eyes shine when he talks about costume design or Broadway, with the way he blushes when someone compliments him, with the way he looks at Blaine in just the right way in every situation.

But even if Blaine has decided to be himself from now on, for Kurt's sake and because Kurt asked him to and because he does actually agree with him, Kurt is still his client. Falling in love with the person you're supposed to protect is a bit too much. It's too much honesty, too many possibilities to screw things up and make everything messy. Blaine doesn't know what he exactly feels towards Kurt, not yet, but at least he has plenty of time to find out. Kurt wants him to stay, and Blaine himself doesn't really want to go either.

He looks around the room and realizes that he's actually lying on Kurt's side of the bed, or rather on the side Kurt was sleeping on. It's not like they have official sides. (Yet. Maybe. What on earth is he thinking about? Obviously sleeping makes his brain jump to conclusions.) Blaine is a cuddler, all of his previous boyfriends can attest to that. Judging from the way he's lying across the bed he's probably been cuddling Kurt while they were sleeping, which could make things awkward. But then again, Kurt cuddled him when he was drunk, and they've also avoided all awkwardness for almost a whole day now. Maybe things will work out.

Blaine is an optimist most of the time, especially when he's feeling good. And right now he is. He gets up from the bed, changes into a clean shirt because the one he was sleeping in has drool on it, and pads to the hallway with a yawn, his bare feet slapping against the floor.

Kurt looks up from his breakfast when Blaine shuffles into the kitchen. He doesn't look uncomfortable, not at all, and Blaine inwardly sighs in relief. Kurt nods at him, but then his eyes travel to Blaine's chest and he's starts to grin a little. Blaine self-consciously glances at his shirt, quirking an eyebrow at Kurt. There's no drool on this one, so why would it catch Kurt's attention?

"Why do you have a shirt like that? Don't tell me you have all those ads recorded somewhere and you watch them twenty times a day?" Kurt teases.

Blaine looks down at his shirt again and realizes it has FREE CREDIT RATING TODAY DOT COM written in big, red letters across his chest. "Oh, no, nothing like that. My brother gave it to me."

"Why would your brother give you a..."

"Uh, because he was in the ads?" Blaine snags an apple from the bowl on the counter.

Kurt looks confused, until his eyes widen in understanding. "Oh god. Anderson. Blaine Anderson. Is Cooper Anderson your brother?"

Blaine takes a bite from the apple and shrugs nonchalantly.

"Oh my god." Kurt starts to giggle, high and musical, and Blaine thinks it must be the most adorable thing he has ever heard. "Oh god, this is priceless. Cooper Anderson is your brother! I had the biggest crush on him when I was in high school. The jingle from those commercials was actually my ringtone for months! Oh god!"

Something deflates inside of Blaine. Cooper – handsome, tall and charming Cooper – always manages to win somehow, even if he's on the other side of the country. Blaine knows he's being ridiculous and petty and jealous for no reason, knows that Cooper has his own demons and that good looks haven't always been a blessing to him. Sometimes the old sibling rivalry still manages to raise its ugly head.

"Are you two close?" Kurt asks, still smiling widely.

Blaine startles from his thoughts. "Oh, I'd say we are. The age difference between us is quite big and we weren't close at all when we were younger, but now... He's like a friend to me, in some ways. I was actually living with him before I came here."

"I know what you mean," Kurt says and points at him with his spoon. "Me and my brother Finn – or well, technically he's my step-brother, but anyway – we were at each other's throats all the time when we were younger. Our relationship is much better now that we're both grown up. I know he still blames himself for some of the stuff that happened in high school, but..."

"What stuff? You said something at the party, but..." Blaine starts and then almost slaps himself. "I'm sorry, it's of course none of my business –"

"It's okay, Blaine." Kurt smiles. "Honesty, remember?" He takes a breath. "Well, like I said at the party, I was bullied a lot in high school. Finn and all my other friends tried to protect me, but naturally they couldn't help me all the time." When he sees Blaine's sad expression, he continues quickly, clearly ignoring certain things in his story. "But then during junior year my biggest bully changed schools and things calmed down. It was still Lima, Ohio, full of homophobes and prejudice, but it got better."

Blaine looks down. "I was... I was bullied as well. Before I transferred to Dalton. It was actually the reason I transferred."

The following silence feels awkward, both of them thinking about their own experiences. Kurt is staring at his cereal with a distant look in his eyes, so Blaine tries to desperately steer the conversation back to a more neutral topic.

"We didn't talk properly for years when I was younger, Cooper and me," he says. "But then he – he showed up during my junior year, waltzed into Dalton like he owned the whole place and told the headmaster that he was going to give an acting master class to everyone interested." Blaine laughs at the memory. "In the end I had to convince the Warblers to attend the class so at least someone would be there. It was... interesting, to say the least."

"I can imagine. Sort of. He always seemed a bit crazy in those commercials." Kurt's staring at him with a soft expression, and Blaine wants to give himself a high-five for making the distance disappear from Kurt's eyes.

"After the class he sort of cornered me and we... We had a long talk about everything." Blaine remembers yelling at Cooper in Dalton's common room until his voice was hoarse, until Coop walked across the room and pulled him into a tight hug. He remembers Cooper repeating over and over again how sorry he was for everything and himself clinging to Cooper's leather jacket because he'd both finally gotten his brother back. "We worked out all our issues after that, and now he's honestly the best brother I could ever ask for. He has a huge ego and he's completely ridiculous, but he's my brother."

Kurt smiles. "I get that. Finn is completely clueless when it comes to some things and he talks before he thinks way too often, but like you said, he's my brother."

Blaine chews on his apple for a moment. The conversation is at a pause, so now's the best time to say it. "Look, Kurt... I think I might have, um, cuddled you last night."

Kurt widens his eyes. "You don't say. I thought it was just a really heavy pillow lying against my shoulder."

Blaine giggles. Legitimately giggles. What has he turned into? A ridiculous teenager? He coughs awkwardly to clear his throat. "So... everything's fine?"

"Blaine. Considering the fact that I was the first one to cuddle you all those days ago and that I actually slept really well last night, everything is better than fine." Kurt rolls his eyes. "Unless you didn't sleep well, but you were snoring against my shoulder so I suppose that's not really an option?"

"No, I slept... really well. I haven't slept that well in weeks. Huh." Blaine blinks. "So we both slept better than before?"

"It seems that way." Kurt is suddenly very interested in the contents of his cereal.

"That's good then." Blaine thinks about his next words for a moment and then decides to just go for it. "I'm glad this honesty thing is... working out."

Kurt lifts his head and looks into Blaine’s eyes. "Yeah. Me too."

They smile at each other for a moment, and then Kurt's smile turns a little ridiculous. "Okay, you have to tell me – what's deal with all the pointing your brother does in those ads?"

-

The television is open with the sound down low, the excited voices of some talk show only comfortable background noise. Blaine's sitting on the sofa with his books and Kurt's curled up in one of the armchairs, sketching another outfit for Andrea's play. He started this sketch, the clothes for one of the students in the play, some days ago when Blaine was sleeping on his bed with a migraine, and maybe that's the reason the outfit has so many soft lines and soothing colors.

Kurt adds some more shading to the drawing, satisfied with his sketch so far, and lifts his head to look at Blaine. The book on Blaine's lap doesn't look like one of the paperbacks he bought the first time they went out; it's bigger and thicker with pale and discreet covers. Blaine's eyebrows are scrunched up in concentration, completely immersed in whatever he's reading. Kurt discreetly ducks his head until he sees the words printed on the front cover, or at least parts of them. Something starting with Pedag...

Kurt does a double take. Is Blaine reading about pedagogy? Is he studying? Kurt quickly thinks back to that time when Blaine mentioned his studies. Blaine did say that he never got his degree, so is that why he's reading something that looks suspiciously academic? Is he taking a break from college or what? Is he going to get his degree someday? Is there a future teacher in this room with Kurt?

Blaine yawns suddenly, and Kurt returns his gaze hurriedly back to his sketches, trying to act like he wasn't staring at Blaine. Beneath his eyelashes he can see Blaine stretch his arms. Blaine's shirt rides up and Kurt can see a sliver of his tan stomach (focus, Kurt, focus, he's your bodyguard), but then his arms fall back down to his lap and he closes his book. Kurt acts like he's still shading his sketch even if the drawing doesn't actually need any more of it. He can feel Blaine's eyes on him and hopes sincerely that he's not blushing right now.

"So," Blaine says and Kurt lifts his head. "Costume design. How did that happen?"

Kurt lifts one his eyebrows. "You're suddenly asking this because...?"

Blaine shrugs. "I don't really know. I'm just curious. You seem so passionate about it, always carrying that notepad with you. And I saw the sketches you have in your office. They're... breath-taking."

Kurt blushes. Blaine's voice is sincere and honest, like Kurt’s sketches actually do take his breath away, and though Kurt has heard his fair share of compliments, none of them have ever been said with such reverence. "Well thank you," he manages to say.

"I'm just stating the obvious." Blaine smiles. "But really, how did you end up becoming a costume designer? Judging from all that you've told me you might as well be an actor or a singer." He puts his book away and is settling into a more comfortable position on the sofa when he stops. "But only if you want to tell me. You don't have to –"

"It's not some well-kept secret, Blaine." Kurt smiles. This is the first time Blaine has actually initiated a conversation; earlier he's always just opened his mouth to say something and then closed it with a frown, waited for Kurt to take the first step. Now Blaine's opening up, expressing his interest. It's making something warm settle in right next to Kurt's heart.

"Okay." Blaine settles on the sofa, slouching against the backrest. "Tell me then, Kurt Hummel, how did you become a costume designer? I'm assuming you studied it?"

Kurt can't stop smiling. "I did. Although originally I was studying at NYADA to become an actor , like Rachel."

Blaine gives a low whistle. "NYADA? That's impressive. Don't they accept like..."

"Around twenty students per year," Kurt finishes for him. The way Blaine's eyebrows raise at that makes Kurt's heart do somersaults.

"And you were one of them?"

There's no surprise in Blaine's voice, just honest admiration and wonder. Kurt feels surprisingly bashful all of a sudden, but he keeps going.

"Yep. Me and Rachel. I auditioned with Not the Boy Next Door and got in. Then suddenly I was living in New York, sharing an apartment with Rachel and watching as my whole dream came true." Kurt knows his eyes have glazed over and he probably looks incredibly wistful, but he can't help it. Those first months in New York are one of his fondest memories – finally getting out of Ohio, finally being in a place where he can feel more accepted, finally showing everyone that he knows what he's doing and is damn good at it.

"But?"

Blaine's tentative voice shakes Kurt out of his memories. He blinks and takes a deep breath.

"But then, in the middle of my first year, I realized that I was actually enjoying my minor courses a lot more than the ones in my major. Costume design was my minor because I've always been interested in fashion and clothes – I used to plot weekend outfits and give my friends makeovers when I was in high school – and I thought it might be a fun counterbalance to singing and acting. But it was so much fun. Getting to know the characters and designing clothes that fit their personality, and just... The spotlight wasn't on me, but on something I had created all by myself. It wasn't about the performer, it was about the performance, and I... I liked it. I loved it more than anything. Still do. Sketching and comparing fabrics and the feeling of seeing actors on a stage, wearing something that's completely mine and that helps them slip into their characters... It's intoxicating."

Kurt looks at Blaine then, at the tender smile on Blaine's face, and grins back. "So after my first year I changed my dream and my major with it and decided to focus on costume design one hundred percent. I still love singing and performing, but let's face it, there aren't that many roles for a countertenor on Broadway anyway and being an actor is just way too stressful." He stops for a moment. "Oh god, that sounds like I'm making up excuses. It's not like that, I swear. Costume design is my passion and I don't want to do anything else with my life, period."

Blaine laughs softly. "No, it didn't sound like you were making excuses. Your..." He averts his eyes. "Your face lights up in this amazing way when you talk about costume design. That sort of tells me that it's not just some backup plan."

Kurt knows he's definitely blushing now, but there's a faint pink tinge on Blaine's cheeks as well. "What about you?" he asks.

Blaine shrugs. "Well, being a bodyguard isn't exactly my passion."

"No, I meant..." Kurt shifts in the chair. "I meant teaching." He looks meaningfully at the closed book on the sofa.

Blaine's eyebrows rise in surprise and he crosses his arms over his chest, the familiar uncomfortable gesture coming back after so many days. Kurt can see that a part of Blaine wants to hide and distance himself, get his walls and curtains up once again, and he instinctively reaches out his hand towards him.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he adds. "I'm just curious, that's all."

Blaine takes a shuddering breath and then slowly lowers his arms. "No, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I haven't talked about it with anyone for a long time, that"s all."

Kurt keeps his face under control even though the tone of Blaine's voice makes him want to cross the distance between them and hug Blaine. So much for appropriate thoughts. "Oh. I, um, I guess what I'm wondering is... Why teaching?"

Blaine scratches the back of his neck. "I actually thought for a long time that I wanted to become an artist as well. An actor or a musician most likely – something to do with singing. But then... Then my plans changed, kind of like yours. During senior year I just realized that as much as I loved performing I wanted to help people as well. I wanted to help kids see their own potential and help them through school and teach them about important things. Show them how fun life can be and make them enjoy school. I did some tutoring at Dalton and I've always liked kids, so I just... decided to apply to teacher training."

He stops for a moment, and Kurt can see the light in his eyes, in his smile, can see the longing in everything Blaine is.

"I got in. For music education even, for my number one choice." Blaine laughs a little. "I was studying music and doing my minor in English and... It all just made me realize how well it fit me, how being a teacher was all I wanted to be. Who cares about performing on a stage when you can have a classroom full of kids listening to your every word and trusting you to help them? All I wanted to do was to help them. To teach them. My... My own teachers weren't always so understanding, so I wanted to give every kid I taught everything I had. They deserve it."

Blaine pauses again, looking at the book lying next to him on the sofa. The light in his eyes dims a little, and there's suddenly something hollow inside of Kurt, something that seems to empty whenever Blaine looks sad.

"But it didn't work out in the end," Blaine says. Kurt notes with hope that there's no finality in his voice, as if things might change someday. As if Blaine still wants to become a teacher, someday, but he just needs to deal with whatever is keeping him away from college at first.

"What happened?" Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine shrugs. "I dropped out. About ten months ago."

Kurt feels his heart clench. "Why?"

Blaine crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders. "I don't..." He trails off, takes a breath and tries again. "That's something I can't... I don't really want to talk about it."

Kurt gives him a reassuring smile. Blaine's already shared quite a lot of personal things, especially compared to those early days of their weird relationship. It's more than enough for Kurt.

"It's okay," he says. He wants to reach out and squeeze Blaine's shoulder, but instead he flips his notepad closed and gets up from the armchair. "I was thinking we could eat pizza tonight. How does that sound?" he asks, changing the subject to something less personal, something less threatening.

Blaine doesn't react at first, but then he looks at Kurt, something determined and brave in his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it... Yet. But I think I will. Someday."

Kurt blinks. Blaine's words hold so much weight, so much meaning between the lines, and for the first time Kurt realizes that maybe he's not the only one who feels uncharacteristically open and trustful in their weird little friendship.

-

The room is dark around Blaine, too dark and too silent once again. They'd decided to sleep in their own rooms for a change, see if the sleeping problems would resurface, and after two nights Blaine knows for a fact that his have come back. They haven't talked about it yet, both of them probably too afraid to admit their problems in case the other one is sleeping just fine (at least that's what has kept Blaine from saying anything), but Blaine's really starting to miss sleep. One night of good sleep isn't enough; it just made him want more, as ridiculous as that sounds.

He turns over to his side and huffs. He feels even more nervous tonight, after opening up to Kurt about his history with college. Even if the discussion was rather superficial, thinking about college reminds him of his failures, of the times he has cared and crashed and burned, and he feels almost... helpless. Kurt draws him out, makes him want to share his darkest moments, but at the same time there's still a part of Blaine that keeps thinking that caring will make him fail. He can't help it. That part has been muffled and shrunken down for these past few days, hiding behind his study books, and Blaine had already started to think that maybe this will work out, maybe Kurt will be the one thing in his life that he won't fail.

But now he's lying on his bed with worst case scenarios running around inside his head again, facing another sleepless night. Even though he and Kurt went running in the morning (Kurt refuses to be locked down inside his own apartment because of "some crazy stalker who just sends me stupid letters and thinks it's funny"), Blaine's shoulders feel tense and his head feels too full of worries and memories.

When he was sleeping with Kurt his head felt blissfully empty.

Blaine untangles the sheets from his legs and gets up. The apartment is humming around him when he walks the short distance from the guest room to Kurt's bedroom. The door is closed but a dim light is shining from the crack between the door and the floor, and after a moment's hesitation (courage, Blaine, courage) Blaine knocks on the door. The answer is almost immediate.

"Come on in."

Blaine cracks the door open and peers into the room. Kurt's sitting on his bed with the newest issue of Vogue, wearing striped pajama bottoms and a thin t-shirt with Hummel Tires & Lube written on it. As gorgeous as Kurt looks in his impeccable suits and with his hair styled to perfection, Blaine has to admit that he somehow likes this Kurt more – the relaxed and toned-down version of Kurt with his hair looking so soft and his bare feet peeking out beneath the covers. The comfortable clothes seem to just accentuate his broad shoulders and long legs, and Blaine finds himself speechless for a moment. This is a side of Kurt that not everyone can or will see. Blaine feels honored in a way, to know that he has earned this much of Kurt's trust.

"I..." he starts finally, but Kurt stops him with a shake of his head.

"I know. Me too." Kurt puts the magazine on his bedside table with a sigh and scoots to the other side of the bed. "Come on. I miss sleep."

He could sound resigned or annoyed, but instead his voice is soft and understanding, like sleeping in the same bed with his bodyguard is the most natural thing in the whole world. Blaine sneaks in, closes the door behind him and crosses the room to sit on the other side of the bed. Somehow they have ended up on the same sides they were sleeping on the last time, and Blaine smiles a little, already feeling the horrible scenarios fading away from his head.

"Are you sure this is alright?" he still asks, wanting to be sure.

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt answers, and Blaine can almost hear how he rolls his eyes. "Sleeping on the same bed with you is... perfectly and utterly alright."

Blaine turns his head and looks at Kurt, who has already flopped down on the bed and is currently arranging a blanket over himself. "Perfectly and utterly alright?" he repeats with a grin.

"Just shut up and go to sleep," Kurt answers but Blaine can see the way his eyes crinkle up in a smile. Perhaps this is natural to them, and that's all that matters.

In the morning Blaine wakes up with his arm slung over Kurt's waist and his leg pressed against Kurt's thigh. The fabric of Kurt's t-shirt is soft against his cheek, the rhythm of Kurt's breathing a calming movement under his arm. Blaine feels warm and serene, and each and every one of his senses is full of Kurt. It could be strange or creepy, it probably should be, but Kurt smells like fresh mornings and whatever skin-care products he uses, his long fingers are resting lightly on Blaine's arm, pale against the tone of Blaine's skin, and he's snuffling quietly against Blaine's curls. When Blaine turns his head and looks at Kurt, careful not to disturb him, he can see the way Kurt's eyes are moving under his eyelids with whatever dreams he's seeing. Kurt mumbles something unintelligible and shifts closer to Blaine, sighing contently in his sleep.

Blaine thought that he was supposed to keep Kurt safe, that he was the one doing all the protecting in this relationship, but when he's lying here in the gentle sunlight with Kurt he suddenly feels safe from all the demons from his past, from all the mistakes and failures he has made. It's frightening, it makes something tighten around his chest, but it also feels like the caged feelings inside his heart are finally spreading their wings and fluttering their feathers.

It feels like it could be freedom.

-

Of course there's a new letter that morning, waiting in the middle of all the other more pleasant letters – even bills are considered more pleasant than anonymous letters. Blaine looks at Kurt's face when he reads it through, staring at the way Kurt's eyes skim from word to word. Blaine can see through the thin paper that this letter is written in screaming capital letters once again, and the earlier freedom sinks inside of him when Kurt's brow twitches.

Kurt closes his eyes and sighs. He keeps his eyes closed as he folds the letter slowly, and then finally opens them to look at Blaine. His eyes aren't scared, they aren't terrified – they look almost... annoyed.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks carefully.

"It's the same old mumbo-jumbo," Kurt says and drops the letter on the table. "How I'm too talented for everything and how people should appreciate me more but how no one's really worthy enough to enjoy my 'immense talent'." Kurt makes air-quotes in the air and rolls his eyes.

"Kurt, that's not... We can't ignore something like that."

Blaine reaches for the letter to read it himself, but Kurt stops him with a hand on his arm. "Blaine, please. Don't read it."

Blaine blinks. "But... Why? I'm still your bodyguard, I need to..."

"I don't want you to get more... anxious." Kurt's fingers start moving nervously. "I've really liked spending time with you these past few days, and I don't want you to read that letter and retreat back again." He ducks his head, looking embarrassed.

Blaine can feel his expression softening immediately, can feel the freedom raise its head again. "Kurt..."

"I swear there's no mention of you in that letter this time. So no need to go all guilt trip on me either, okay?" Kurt wiggles his index finger in the air. "I just... I told you when we first met that I don't want to stop living my life because of this stupid anonymous fan. That hasn't changed. And I guess right now living my life means that I hang out with you twenty-four seven, and I hate it when people around me worry too much."

Blaine draws his hand back with a small smile and lets the letter be. "Okay."

Kurt smiles back at him. "Do you want to call Wes or should I...?"

"I can do it." Blaine snags his phone from the counter and presses speed dial two.

Wes arrives as quickly as he can, still eating a bagel Sarah made him that morning. He takes a look at the letter with his brows furrowed, and then has a short conversation with Kurt while Blaine washes the breakfast dishes and the few plates they left unwashed last night. Blaine turns the small kitchen radio on, drowns the faint conversation coming from the living room under the melodies and beats. He sinks his hands into the water and hums to the music. Logically he should be a nervous wreck right now, after a new letter, but somehow knowing that Kurt himself isn't terrified and is feeling so confident that he's even trying to keep Blaine from panicking internally makes Blaine feel almost... good. Of course a new letter is never a good thing, especially now that the anonymous fan has moved from polite words to capital letters. But Kurt had seemed just annoyed. Annoyed is always better than frightened.

Wes comes back to the kitchen after a while. Blaine doesn't even notice him at first, humming and swaying to the music while he dries the dishes, but then there's a soft cough behind him and he turns to see Wes leaning against the counter, his eyebrows raised and his mouth turned into a grin.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah, I promised Kurt I'd take the letter to the police station for him," Wes answers.

"Did you read it?"

"I did." Wes sighs. "I honestly don't know what to think about this anonymous fan. He was so polite at first, and now he's suddenly screaming and writing like he's making threats between the lines."

Blaine averts his eyes. "I know. I’m worried that it’ll escalate even more."

"So am I." Wes drags his hand through his short hair. "Kurt seems to be doing well though, all things considered."

Blaine laughs. "Yeah, he seems more annoyed than anything."

"You seem good as well," Wes remarks. “I can't remember the last time I've seen you so relaxed."

Blaine frowns as he dries the last plate. "Really?"

"Yes, Blaine, really. It's... It makes me happy. I was worried for a while. Me and Sarah both were."

"Oh." Blaine puts the plate away and looks at Wes. "Why would you be worried about me?"

"Blaine." Wes sounds both exasperated and fond, the way he often does when he's talking to Blaine. "I've known you for, what, over ten years? I can tell when you're doing that distancing thing of yours, and every time I've seen you during these past few weeks you've seemed to be doing it more and more. But now you look... happier. More like yourself. Did something happen?"

Blaine ducks his head. "Sort of."

"Whatever it was, it seemed to finally put some sense into that thankfully no longer gelled head of yours," Wes huffs.

"Hey! Don't mock the gel!" Blaine throws the dish towel at him, but Wes catches it with a grin.

"It was a helmet, Blaine. A helmet made out of gel."