As he was going over and over his conversation with Blaine’s father in his head, he felt a tentative hand on his arm. He jumped, but the instant he realised who it was, he melted. His instinct was to just jump on him and squeeze him until he couldn’t breathe, but then he remembered that they were having a whole awkward thing right now. He didn’t care about Friday night any more, he just wanted to comfort his boyfriend because he was having a shit time at home. But Blaine looked so timid, like a tiny mouse that would spook and run away if he tried to pet him. So he wore his warmest smile and squeezed Blaine’s arm. He had a guitar slung across his back. Just as Kurt was about to ask about it, Blaine started apologising profusely.

“Listen, Kurt,” he took Kurt’s hand from his arm and clung to it in between them, “About Friday, I feel awful.” Kurt tried to protest, but Blaine cut him off, “No, seriously. I drank too much because I freaked out. Because I wanted you, because I always want you, and the idea that I could actually have you, with nothing in the way, it was too much. I think I’m still just surprised that you could want me back. And I don’t want to blame ‘daddy issues’ or anything, but you’ve met him now and you’ve seen what he’s like, he thinks I’m… OK, I don’t know what he thinks, but I always felt like being so close to someone, especially a guy, was wrong. I felt guilty, and so scared of what people might say, and scared that I’d do it all wrong and mess it up, that I went and messed it up anyway.”

Kurt smiled. He couldn’t help finding Blaine cute when he got like this, forgetting to stop for breath, because he had too much that he wanted to say. “You didn’t mess it up-“

“Only because you didn’t let me. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been long before that whole moment was gone. And I want you you want. I want it to be perfect. I want to remember every second of being with you, I want to memorise every inch of you. You’re just… Everything. And I hate that I almost screwed it all up, but I’m so grateful to you for making it all OK.” He paused. “It is OK, right?”

“Blaine.” Kurt put a hand on his cheek. Neither of them looked around to see who was watching. They didn’t care. They moved towards each other, neither one initiating the kiss more than the other. Their lips met, and Kurt pulled Blaine in close to him, so that they were up against the locker. Not in any kind of sexual, animalistic way, like they had been before. Right now that wasn’t important. They were so close, and for now, just holding each other was enough. They stopped kissing, and looked into each other’s eyes for a second. Kurt pressed his forehead against Blaine’s and closed his eyes, feeling those hands firmly on his waist, absent-mindedly stroking Blaine’s shoulders and back. He let his arm fall until it reached his hand. He weaved his fingers in between Blaine’s.

“Yes, Blaine. It’s OK. Come on, we’ll be late for French.”