Blaine feels lighter. He keeps telling himself that he's not slipping, that he's just adjusting to the situation but he knows that he isn't keeping things as professional as he used to. When he stood in the kitchen that morning after their night at the bar and saw how worried Kurt was about giving him traumas with his cuddling – Kurt, who was lonely and vulnerable that night, who Blaine wants to and has to protect, who always seems to hold himself together – he couldn't keep his distance, not entirely. Kurt manages to knock down his walls and make the bars of his cage rattle, manages to make him suppress a laugh when he's supposed to be distant, and Blaine has to practically remind himself that yes, they have a professional relationship, that's all. They shouldn't make things messy with additional feelings.

But Kurt is someone Blaine could see himself falling for. Can see himself falling for, if he only gave himself the chance. Kurt is brave and compassionate, he makes Blaine feel like he wants to smile and laugh his head off, he makes him want to reveal everything he is, say "here I am, I hope I don't disappoint you". Blaine entertains these thoughts every now and then, usually when he's lying on the guest room bed at night, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch some sleep. He's still having trouble sleeping, imagining too many worst case scenarios in his head and listening to every silent sound the darkness seems to amplify. What can he say – his thoughts wander, and they seem to wander to Kurt scarily often.

Blaine is smiling more, he's finishing more and more of his old college assignments every day, he gets to go for runs again and has started to hum more often. So yes, he might feel lighter and he might be adjusting to the situation, but Kurt is still his client. They could be friends, he thinks, if the situation was different and if he opened up more. They're already sort of friends, close acquaintances at least. How could they not be, after spending every minute of every day in each other's personal space?

But that's as far as Blaine's going to allow it to go. Friends is good, friends isn't feeling too much, friends is still quite close to professional.

Blaine walks into Kurt's office late one afternoon and stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Kurt is hunched over his desk, reading a script and scribbling words in his notepad every once in a while. His brows are furrowed in concentration, and his hair is sticking in every direction, looking like he has run his fingers through it multiple times. He's completely lost in the play, oblivious of the world around him, and he doesn't even notice Blaine standing in the doorway.

He still looks gorgeous, a silent voice inside Blaine’s mind adds.

Blaine smiles a little and lets his gaze drift around the room. The shelves are neat and organized with a few framed photographs between the thick reference books and piles of papers. Blaine can make out Rachel, a tall boy and another girl with a wide smile in one of the photos, as well as an obviously pregnant woman and a man with a baseball cap in another one. The same man appears in another photo, this time with Kurt, the tall boy and another woman. There are three posters on the walls – a promotional poster for Cabaret, probably for the production Kurt designed the costumes for, and two large sketches, signed with the initials K. H.

Blaine hasn't looked at Kurt's sketches before; he has seen him drawing them in the living room, has seen glimpses of them that one night he found Kurt sleeping at his desk, but he's never actually stopped and looked at the finished sketches. The ones on the office walls are works of art, with vibrant colors and flowing lines, the costumes so alive that it feels like Blaine could reach out and feel the fabric against his fingertips. The sketches are precise and meticulous, not like some of the fashion sketches Blaine has seen once or twice that only have a few thick lines here and there. He can see what the costumes would actually look like from these sketches, how they would fit the person they were sketched for and what kind of a character would wear them. Everything in the sketches fits together: the colors, the shadows and even the facial expressions of the people wearing the clothes.

Blaine glances to Kurt, who is biting his lower lip in thought and underlining something in the script, and smiles to himself. Kurt definitely deserves his big break. He deserves praise and compliments, he deserves to see his name in several playbills, always preceded by the words costumes designed by, and he deserves to have his designs gracing every single stage in New York City.

He doesn't deserve an anonymous fan toying with him.

Blaine coughs softly, and Kurt startles, lifting his head from the script and finally noticing Blaine.

"Sorry to interrupt," Blaine starts, "but you have an event in a few days, and I thought we could talk over some basic things about it?"

Kurt blinks and then smacks his forehead with his hand. "Oh, right, Geoffrey's birthday party! I completely forgot about it." He looks thoughtful for a moment, scrunching up his nose, but then he shakes his head and smiles at Blaine. "Sorry, you're right, we should probably talk some things over."

Kurt marks the page he's on and closes the script, putting his pen down. He's already standing up when he suddenly stops and frowns. "But... You do know that you don't have to do this just because I yelled at you after that last event?"

Blaine smiles. "It's not about that, I promise. It would just probably be good for us both to know a bit more – you about the way I work and me about the event itself."

Kurt grins back at him. "Alright then. I was actually thinking about taking a coffee break anyway. Kitchen?"

Blaine nods. "Kitchen."

-

They cover the basics pretty quickly, sitting across each other at the kitchen table and sipping their coffees. Kurt admits he doesn't really know anyone from the party apart from Geoffrey who's one of his old professors from NYADA and some sort of a Broadway legend. Geoffrey's turning sixty-five and wanted to hold a huge party for practically everyone he has ever met, and Kurt was invited because he always liked Geoffrey's classes and because Geoffrey always liked him. Geoffrey also happens to like old swing music, and the party will be swing-themed – there'll be lots of dancing and an actual big band with wind instruments. Kurt figures he'll probably bump into several people he's met in passing during his career but not to anyone he knows very well. Rachel was invited, but she has some sort of a family affair and can't make it.

That's everything Kurt can tell Blaine about the event – he says he has a vague idea of the layout of the venue, an honest-to-god ballroom, but Blaine assures him that he'll survive just fine without a specific floor plan. It's not like he's had one before anyway.

After that Blaine explains some of the basic rules he follows in his work to Kurt. He avoids thick crowds because it's too easy to get lost in them; he steers his clients away from people who have had too much to drink because drunken people are often unpredictable; he dodges anyone who looks too suspicious or dangerous just in case. It has a lot to do with plain old instincts, but he tries to notice everything and anything, tries to assess possible threats even when nothing will most likely happen.

“That's why I might seem a bit rude – my mind's so occupied that I can't concentrate properly on anything else. But I can tell you what I'm doing or why I'm doing it this time," Blaine promises.

Kurt gives a small smile, but then his eyebrows furrow. "Isn't it... exhausting? Staying alert all the time?"

Blaine wraps his fingers around his coffee cup and thinks for a moment. He almost opens his mouth to say no, of course not, it's my job, but Kurt looks genuinely concerned and Blaine just can't lie to him, not right now. "It is," he admits. "A bit. I mean you saw how tired I was after that last fundraiser. But I'm used to it by now and all I need to do to get over it is to get a good night's sleep."

He somehow forgets to mention that he hasn't had a good night's sleep ever since he became Kurt's bodyguard.

Kurt looks relieved. "That's good. Then at least I don't have to worry about you collapsing or something."

"Not going to happen," Blaine assures. He knows himself, knows how stubborn he can be and how far he can go. He has slept a few hours every night, some moments of slumber here and there. Well, alright, every other night. He just hasn't slept very well or continuously.

Their conversation quickly starts to stray to everything and anything after that. Blaine doesn't open up completely, doesn't talk about his personal life or smile as widely as he wants to, but he lets himself a little loose. They talk about Broadway and musicals, latest fashion trends and the books Blaine has been reading. Eventually they end up trying to remember old glee club performances, Kurt remembering the Warblers' songs from every competition scarily well while Blaine has more trouble remembering all the songs the New Directions sang.

It's easy, talking with Kurt. Kurt listens to everything he says intently, as if he's piecing together a puzzle of Blaine Anderson and everything he is, and Blaine feels like he's doing the same to Kurt. Even though Blaine avoids all the more personal topics Kurt talks freely about his own family and friends, about his previous works, and Blaine feels more and more fascinated by Kurt with every word. Kurt is smart and witty, and there are no awkward pauses in the conversation, no hesitant moments. Blaine feels lighter and lighter, smiling a bit more widely at every joke – until Kurt tells him a slightly exaggerated version of the make-over he gave Rachel during their sophomore year at NYADA, and Blaine can't help laughing out loud.

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up at the voice, and he looks pleasantly surprised, staring at Blaine almost... tenderly.

"What?" Blaine asks when his laughter stops, his lips still turned up in a smile. The look in Kurt's eyes is making him want to retreat, shuffle his feet and hunch his shoulders. He feels like he's on display, like everything in him is visible, but something in Kurt stops him, doesn't allow his retreat back to distance and professionalism, and instead makes him stare back, curious and waiting.

"No, nothing." Kurt shakes his head. "You just... You have a nice laugh."

"Oh." Blaine ducks his head. His cheeks feel like they're burning. "Thanks."

They sit in silence for a moment, but for once it's not awkward, even if they are avoiding each other's eyes. It feels natural, comforting, the way things are supposed to be. Blaine can't stop smiling, and he can see beneath his eyelashes that Kurt is still grinning as well.

But then Kurt's gaze wanders to the clock on the kitchen wall and he startles. "Oh god, is it that late?"

Blaine looks at the clock over his shoulder and realizes that it's over midnight already. They've been sitting in the kitchen for... Blaine doesn't even know for how many hours, but it's certainly been many. Even if it didn't feel like it.

They look at each other, both realizing at the same time that they just spent several hours talking about everything and anything like two old friends, forgetting everything else around them – and they both avert their gazes and laugh nervously.

Kurt drinks rest of his coffee and grimaces at the stale taste. "I should go to bed. Lots of work to do tomorrow and all that." He gives an awkward smile. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt gets up, puts his cup in the sink and heads for his bedroom. Blaine stays at the kitchen table, staring into the remains of his coffee. The words and feelings he didn't manage to voice are strangling him, trying to get out, but he just downs the last sips of his now completely cold coffee with a flinch and leaves the kitchen, flicking the light switch off as he goes.

-

Kurt leans against his bedroom door as soon as he closes it, staring at the floor and suddenly feeling like a damn teenager. Giggles are bubbling inside of him, and his cheeks are probably completely red by now, blotchy and bright like they are whenever he blushes.

It's ridiculous. For god's sake, he's twenty-four years old, he has his own apartment and he's getting a name for himself in the theater circles – he's not going to burst into a giggle fit just because Blaine laughed at his silly little anecdote.

Kurt doesn't trust easily; it takes him months or even years to open up to a new person, to talk freely with them, to share his opinions with them. He's always been private, ever since he can remember, and his high school experience did nothing but reinforce that habit. It took him a long time to accept Rachel's attempts at friendship, to accept Finn as his brother, and an even longer time to be comfortable around his previous boyfriends. He's not like Rachel – he doesn't talk unnecessarily to anyone willing to listen, and prefers to keep his thoughts to himself. If he was a pessimist instead of a realist, rose-tinted glasses and all, he could say that he's often alone. He's been somewhat alone all his life, and he's gotten used to it.

But something about Blaine, even when he's distant and professional, makes Kurt want to pour his heart out, to talk about his likes and dislikes, to share silly stories and tell his secrets. He doesn't know what causes it – whether it's Blaine's kind smile or observant eyes or just the general atmosphere he creates – but Kurt has never met anyone else that makes him feel like that only after a few weeks. After a few days, even, because hasn't he been talking to Blaine in a similar way ever since he became his bodyguard, opening his life to him and immediately asking him to live in his apartment?

Kurt can hear Blaine's footsteps walk past his door, and he rests the back of his head against the door, trying to hear Blaine as long as he can. Kurt's the one that has been opening up for weeks, talking on and on about his own life, but tonight was the first time Blaine opened up a little as well. Ever since the cuddling incident and their awkward conversation in the kitchen Blaine has seemed a little less distant, a little more like the man Kurt saw standing in his kitchen doorway that rainy afternoon. The curtain is thinner, barely even there, and even if Blaine avoids personal topics and doesn't share information about his school life or his family the same way Kurt does, he's still more... present. More like the Blaine Kurt has been eagerly waiting to meet.

It's a small improvement, tiny even, but it's still filling Kurt's heart with feelings he doesn't quite understand. When Blaine had laughed Kurt could see that he was still holding back, still not laughing in the way that Kurt has heard him laugh a few times when he has called his brother – but it was still the most wonderful laugh Kurt has ever heard, shy and soft and completely Blaine.

Kurt runs his fingers through his hair, huffing to himself. They talked for hours in the kitchen. For hours, and it was so easy to just let the words tumble out of his mouth and forget about the time and the situation hanging over their heads. Blaine has so many interesting opinions, so many tiny quirks that just fit him, and Kurt doesn't understand how that's possible – he doesn't really know Blaine, barely knows his surface, but there are still things that sound so much like Blaine, that make Kurt think of him when they're buying groceries or watching television in the evenings.

It's scary and a little overwhelming, to meet someone who makes Kurt feel so safe in every possible way. Even more overwhelming is the fact that Kurt has a feeling he's the one making Blaine open up more. Somehow he has managed to say or do something right, something that has allowed Blaine to take a few steps away from the professionalism and to pull back the curtain, even a little. Kurt can see glimpses of the real Blaine, of the whole Blaine, peeking through more and more everyday, and to know that he has somehow made that happen...

It feels good. It feels fair and balanced, that Kurt has managed to draw Blaine out a little when Blaine has kept him safe and filled the sometimes oppressive silence in his apartment. Perhaps his dad was right. Perhaps he hasn't been just alone, perhaps he's been a little bit lonely all his life, and now someone is finally stepping into his own little world and holding out their hand.

Kurt can't quite make out what his feelings towards Blaine are, not yet, not after just a few days of this more open version of Blaine, but as he spends his entire skin care routine and most of the night just staring into nothing, thinking about how Blaine is right there, behind one wall, and smiling like a silly little boy, he figures he must like these feelings.