The opening night of Andrea's play is a success. As the lights over the stage fade and the orchestra plays the last note the audience is already on their feet, applauding and stomping and whistling. Kurt and Blaine are among them, Blaine yelling excited compliments and comments into Kurt's ear over the noise, raving over the costumes and the performances and the songs. Kurt ducks his head and laughs, his hair perfectly coiffed and his suit impeccable, and even though Blaine is always proud to be with Kurt, always has been and always will be, in that loud moment he's even prouder to know that after everything this gorgeous man is his. That he is Kurt's.

Some time later Blaine is standing outside the theater with his hands in his pockets, humming one of the songs from the play that won't leave his head. He's waiting for Kurt, who was immediately swept away by reporters and other guests, all of them wanting to know his inspiration for the costumes, for the radiant colors in them, for the little quirks they all have, making the contemporary clothes seem timeless, making them reflect the characters' personalities and bring them to life. Kurt had thrown an apologetic look at Blaine over his shoulder, mouthing the words wait for me? – as if he even has to ask.

Blaine will gladly wait for Kurt.

It's almost strange how easily they have fallen into the routine of being a couple instead of a bodyguard and a client. Then again, it's not so different from the way their relationship was before, as if they were both only waiting for the right moment to be free. They still walk close to each other, they still go out together and share the same bed. They still sit in the living room together, Kurt working on his designs and Blaine on his lesson plans, but it's not out of necessity anymore. It's not because Blaine has to see Kurt at all times – it's because Blaine wants to see Kurt as much as he can, because Kurt wants to feel Blaine's presence next to him as often as he can. It's because it's what they want, what feels right.

A group of teenagers rushes past Blaine, giggling and talking loudly, and Blaine smiles fondly at them. There were quite a few school groups at the premiere, given the theme of the play, and Kurt had explained that Andrea had specifically wanted to invite middle and high school students. Something about giving them hope, about showing them that school doesn't last forever, and Blaine thinks he understands.

He has just started rocking on his heels, his fingers tapping a rhythm against his thigh, when there's suddenly a surprised voice next to him.

"Mr. A?"

As Blaine turns his head towards the sound he sees that one of the teenagers, a round-faced girl with long dark hair, has stopped a few feet from him, staring at him a little hesitantly. Blaine blinks, and then he recognizes her features; she looks a bit older, a bit more matured with a faint scar on her temple, but surely it can't be –

"Viola?" he breathes out, and the girl's face breaks into a grin.

"I knew it was you!" she exclaims, bouncing a little on her feet. "I saw you and thought, wow, he sure looks a lot like Mr. A, except what would he be doing in New York – but it is you! Are you here to see the play as well?"

Blaine shakes his head to clear his mind, not sure if his brain or mouth or anything is working normally right now, still not convinced that his eyes are not betraying him. "I – I mean, yes, I am, but... I live here now. I just started teaching in a middle school here."

Viola whistles. "Wow, that sounds great. I kind of... had a feeling you wouldn't stay at that school back in Ohio." She gives a sad smile.

Blaine swallows. "Are you – how are you? Is everything alright?"

"I'm great! I go to a school upstate!" Her smile widens and turns into a genuine one. "I love it there. The teachers are really nice – of course not as nice as you were, but..."

Blaine laughs, overwhelmed and a little disbelieving. "Thanks, Viola, but I'm not your teacher anymore. You don't have to be so nice to me."

"No, I mean it, Mr. A," Viola stresses. "You... You were the first person I came out to, and you made it sound like everything would be okay. I will always remember that."

She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, like she's not afraid of anything, not anymore. Blaine turns his head away for a moment, blinking away the tears that have suddenly pooled in his eyes before he turns back to face his former student again, this time with a soft smile. "I'm... I'm glad I could help."

Viola grins, and Blaine lets himself grin as well, the corners of his mouth stretching and pulling his lips without him being able to stop it.

"Do you... Do you still play the piano?" he asks after a while.

Viola rolls her eyes. "Of course I do. I'm going to be the best concert pianist this country has ever seen, you just watch me."

"I can't wait," Blaine answers, meaning it as well, and when Viola ducks her head with a small blush he is reminded of the time he was her teacher, of the way she used to sit behind the piano before every lesson and practically bounce on her seat when they were going through something most of the other kids found boring or unnecessary. How small she had looked when she'd approached him after class and asked if she could talk with him.

"Vi! We have to go!"

Viola turns to look over her shoulder. Another girl is waving at her, standing a little to the side from a group of students gathered around their teacher. Viola turns back to face Blaine, her eyes apologetic. "Sorry, I have to go now. But it was really great to see you, Mr. A."

Blaine tips his head. "Likewise. I'm glad you're doing so well."

Viola gives another grin, and then she's off, running towards the other girl with a spring in her step. Blaine watches as they collide, bumping their shoulders together and talking excitedly. The last thing Blaine sees is Viola twining her arm around the other girl, throwing her head back in a laugh before they both join the group of students and disappear into the stream of people around the theater.

Kurt appears next to him at that moment, looking happy and a little breathless, probably from all the talking he's had to do. He takes Blaine's hand, his fingers warm in the brief chill in the air, and Blaine squeezes back, still looking after Viola even though he can't see her anymore.

"Who was she?" Kurt asks, leaning against Blaine and pressing a quick peck on his cheek.

"Just... One of my old students," Blaine answers, turning to look at Kurt. Kurt searches his gaze for a moment, confused, and then realization seems to dawn on his face, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open.

"Oh." He looks at where Viola disappeared, at the bustle of the city, resting his cheek on Blaine's shoulder. "She seems to be doing well?"

Blaine smiles. "Yeah. She really does."

Kurt doesn't say anything, just smiles back and presses another kiss on Blaine's mouth this time, soft and warm and light, like the feathers of a bird shivering against Blaine's lips, and Blaine keeps his eyes open, not wanting to miss anything.

Almost the only thing that has changed drastically between them since they became a couple is the intimacy – the clasped hands, the hugs, the fingers brushing strands of hair from Kurt's forehead or drawing patterns on Blaine's arm, the feeling of skin pressed against skin. All of them changes that Blaine most definitely relishes and adores, things that make him feel like singing his heart out.

And the kisses. Don't even get him started on the kisses.

Kurt breaks their kiss after some time, smiling at Blaine, the special smile that Blaine has realized is meant just for him, just for moments like this. Blaine feels something warm spreading inside of himself, a contented weariness that makes him just wish he could bask for a while longer, settle in this moment where absolutely everything seems to be right in the world.

"I love you," he whispers.

Kurt's eyebrows rise in surprise, and for a fleeting second Blaine thinks it was too soon, too much, too awkward, but then Kurt's smile broadens, his whole face breaking into a beaming grin that seems to light up every corner inside Blaine's heart and chase away anything that's left of his doubts. It makes Blaine think of second chances and courage, of love and safety.

Of freedom.

"I love you," Kurt says, his eyes shining like he can’t stop smiling. "I do, of course I do. I can't believe you got to say it first."

Blaine laughs softly and leans in for another kiss. They take their time, breathing in each other, memorizing again all the details that they'd already memorized when they kissed for the first time but that are still so new, and Blaine thinks that maybe this is what it'll always be like for them, both new and familiar at the same time. Maybe everything will always be breath-taking and wonderful when it comes to Kurt and Blaine, to Blaine and Kurt. Maybe they can get through anything, as long as they're together.

Kurt is still looking delighted when they break apart, his cheeks tinged pink. "Ready to go home?" he asks, a slight lilt in his voice.

Blaine nods, beaming a little himself. He links his arm with Kurt's, and together they start to make their way through the streets of New York, not bothering with a taxi this time. The city hums and buzzes around them, people and cars and billboards, all of it familiar and comforting.

"The main character had nice clothes," Blaine points out after a while.

"He does." Kurt smiles and leans against him. "He really does."