That's better than letting it freak him out and risk everything.

A part of him wants to deny the fact that his first waking thoughts have been Kurt for a long time – what Kurt would be wearing that day, whether he'd be happy or broken-hearted from a nightmare, what he might want for lunch that day and if their schedules matched up in that regard. It would be easy for Blaine to put this to one side and say that these things were nothing more than the delirious ramblings of a friend concerned for another friend, but after the GAP incident he had stopped taking these things for granted and decided it might be better to think before he rushed into a decision.

When, after an hour of laying in bed and thinking, he realises that he's desperately and hopelessly in love with Kurt Hummel it's like a part of him relaxes and hisses 'finally!' Really, he should have realised it a while ago, but he had been caught up in the whirlwind of first crushes and first attempts – first rejections too, unfortunately - that he hadn't paid much attention to the part of his heart and the bits of his mind that were screaming Kurt Freaking Hummel at him.

(Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains - how hadn't he seen it?)

Blaine pulls himself out of bed and looks around his room, almost laughing at what he sees. There's a book of Kurt's resting on his desk, one that he had promised to read because apparently it was amazing beyond compare. Kurt's DVDs were stacked by his laptop and he was pretty sure Kurt had a pair of pyjamas in his dresser - for those times where they lost themselves in films and homework and he couldn't find the will to sneak back to his own room, and Blaine couldn't find the heart to send him away.

Running a hand through his hair, Blaine wondered how he hadn't worked out they were practically dating already. But, deep down, he knew the answer: Dalton, Blaine had learned, was easy. It was like stepping into warmth after trekking through a blizzard; comfort wrapping around you like a blanket and holding you there until you were ready to step outside and face the cold again. Blaine's problem was that he might never be ready to face the cold again - the memories of High School were haunting; maybe they always would be.

Being strong after running away, giving up the fight - it wasn't easy. It was difficult to step up and have courage when all you had ever known was retreat. Being strong for himself was hard, but Blaine had learned that it was quite easy to be strong for someone else - to sit there and be their shoulder, to try and offer them whatever comfort you could dig out of your own experiences. That's why it had been so easy for him to empathise with Kurt, to push him to stand up for himself - to let Kurt have the courage he hadn't been able to muster. And, wow, Kurt was strong.

It wasn't that he hadn't liked Kurt (because he did, he'd known it); he had admitted that he cared about the other boy too much to risk anything. It was that he was afraid of losing the thing that was giving him strength – he was scared that, for some reason, Kurt would turn his back on him if he admitted that he might be heels over head for him. He knew it was unfair to say it, a slight on Kurt's character, but life taught him harsh lessons, and life had damaged him.

Slipping his uniform on, Blaine allowed himself another moment of thought. His sleep-stuck brain had pushed for Kurt and now, awake and rational, he was still almost pining. It had been a few weeks since Valentine's Day – was that long enough? Was it right that he had realised? Would Kurt be mad? He couldn't imagine that; there had been a kind of awkwardness between them that he was sure was due to Kurt's confession that he hadn't known how to properly repair. Now he knew how to do it.

He's ready at quarter to eight, sitting on the edge of his bed with his bag resting beside him. Five minutes, and Kurt will knock on his door expecting to walk down to get a quick breakfast before they found their way to classes. He wouldn't expect anything to be different – because this was their ritual. It had been this way since Kurt had transferred, alternating some weeks when Blaine had pulled himself out of bed before Kurt had finished doing his hair. But this time it was going to be different. Blaine had learned his lesson from 'When I Get You Alone'; big crowd pleasing numbers wouldn't work when it came to one-on-one romance.

He's lost in thoughts again when Kurt knocks, and he almost runs out of his room without his bag. He opens the door – and there he is. Kurt Hummel, diva, countertenor and the literal boy of Blaine's dreams. He grins and watches at Kurt says a soft good morning, the smile on his face pure and brilliant. Blaine doesn't even think about it.

Reaching out, he lifts Kurt's free hand up and to his mouth, letting his lips brush along the little joints on his fingers. He feels more than hears Kurt's gasp (a small shiver ran through his body and he felt it on his lips) and the way his eyes widen, staring at Blaine as though he's grown a second head. Blaine just lifts his eyes up, his lips still touching Kurt's hand and, really, it's just like a Disney movie gone wrong. But then he grins and Kurt laughs, shaking and tugging his hand away, and all Blaine can do is move forward and wrap his arms around Kurt like it's a lifeline. When he whispers into Kurt's ear he knows that, really, he didn't need to say the words to make the other boy understand.

Kurt, like his sleep-stuck brain, always seemed to know what he was thinking.