Life without Blaine is a relief.

At least, that's what Kurt keeps trying to tell himself. There are no more phone calls keeping him awake while he's trying to watch Lifetime movies, no awkward couples game nights, no putting up with Blaine acting like a five year old while Kurt tries to get some shopping done.

It's also empty, which Kurt is trying not to admit. Blaine was his best friend, and now there's nothing but radio silence. There are times when Kurt picks up the phone to call before realizing that he can't. Blaine hurt him, and Kurt is standing his ground.

That doesn't mean that Blaine hasn't tried calling. He does. Almost daily, in fact. Kurt has more voicemails than he can keep up with, to the point that he barely listens to any of them just so he can save space. Most of them are along the same lines, anyway.

Hey, it's me again. I know I've apologized about a billion times, but I figured I'd try for one more. Call me.

Kurt, please call me back. I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry.

So, you're still not answering, which means that you either a) aren't near your phone, b) don't want to talk to me, or c) desperately want to talk to me, but are trapped under something heavy. If it's A or C, call me back.

It's obnoxious, but some niggling voice in Kurt's subconscious also reminds him that it's somewhat endearing. He's grateful for the new store to keep him busy and full of excuses not to call Blaine back, because his patience and his resolve are starting to wear thin.

The holidays come and go with little excitement. Kurt doesn't have enough time to make it back to Ohio, so he ends up having dinner with Brittany and Santana on Christmas Eve and spends most of Christmas working on new designs. A few days later, he's enjoying a Friday night in when his phone rings again.

He barely registers the caller ID as he thumbs it on and lifts it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Kurt?"

Blaine. Of course. He sighs, suddenly wishing he'd checked a little more carefully. "Hello, Blaine," he says coolly.

He hears Blaine hesitating on the other end and wonders if he even knows what to say now that Kurt's finally answered. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine." He inspects his nails boredly, then remembers that Blaine can't actually see him and drops the deliberate nonchalance. "Did you need something?"

Blaine sighs. "I was just...apologizing. Again. And wishing you a happy New Year." He sounds defeated, and the part of Kurt that should be rejoicing feels like it's deflating.

"Well. Happy New Year to you, too." Kurt's voice is stiff, struggling with its cool facade.

"Thanks. Bye, Kurt." Blaine's voice is quiet and dejected. Kurt kicks himself mentally.

"Goodbye, Blaine." He tries to warm his voice a little, but he knows it's too late. Before he can say anything else, the line is dead, and Blaine is gone.

"New Year's Eve," Blaine says to himself, flopping back on the couch. "Best night of the year to be in New York City."

He flips on the TV to Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin on CNN, but he's distracted. He should be out at Rachel's annual New Year's party, but when he'd asked Santana if Kurt was going and found out that he was, Blaine had decided to stay home. Alone.

The alone part hadn't really occurred to him until now. His apartment is too quiet; too far away from the action of Times Square to be able to hear the uproar, and too empty with just him in it. Brittany and Santana had offered to come over, but Blaine had insisted that they go to Rachel's and have fun.

Blaine had thought that Kurt finally picking up the phone meant that things would change, but they obviously hadn't. He'd fucked up colossally, and Kurt wasn't going to forgive him this time. He sighs as he sits back against his cushions, staring at the TV without really hearing it. His thoughts, as they usually are lately, are on Kurt.

Blaine misses him. He misses their dinners and walks and trips to the museum, and he even misses the goddamn couples game night. Every guy he's met in the last month pales in comparison to Kurt. Blaine can't stop thinking about the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs, the slight but noticeable height difference between them. And that night. That night when he hadn't been able to tell where his body ended and Kurt's began and he felt more at home than he ever had.

He's in love. He's in love and he's an idiot for letting Kurt go.

It's fifteen minutes to midnight when a commercial comes on claiming that it's not too late to take advantage of some big sale, and Blaine sits straight up in his seat.

"It's not too late," he murmurs to himself. He looks at his watch and curses. Kurt is going to leave that party as soon as he can, because Kurt always used to say that he hated parties unless Blaine was there with him. Brittany and Santana will make him stay until at least midnight, but there's no stopping him from leaving after that. And Rachel's apartment is nearly twenty minutes away, and there's no way he's getting a cab or catching a train tonight. Swearing loudly again, he slips into his shoes and races out the door.

Kurt doesn't have a clue what the man in front of him is yammering on about, but he's smiling at Kurt expectantly like he's just made a joke, so Kurt forces a laugh and takes a long swig of his wine.

"I'm leaving," he mutters at Brittany as he leans against her back where she's standing behind him.

She turns, nearly throwing him off balance. The man Kurt was talking to looks startled, then makes some excuse Kurt also doesn't bother to listen to and walks away. "Kurt. It's New Year's Eve! You can't leave before midnight!"

"No really, Brit. I think I'm just going to go." He has Santana's attention now, something he was trying to avoid.

She stares at him with one eyebrow dangerously arched. "What's wrong, Hummel? It's ten to midnight, you can stay a little longer."

He sighs and drinks from his wine again. "Look, it's going to be midnight and everyone's going to start kissing and declaring their love for each other, and I'm going to be standing here like an idiot and wishing that I was home."

"I'll kiss you," Santana offers with a smirk and a wink.

Kurt laughs and shakes his head. "You wish, Lopez." Brittany rubs his arm comfortingly. "I'm sorry, guys. I'll have another drink, but then I'm going."

Brittany grins, appeased, as Santana drags him off in search of the bar.

Snow is falling steadily and Blaine realizes too late that he's not wearing a jacket and he's about to show up at Rachel's snazzy party in a sweatshirt and jeans, but he can't bring himself to care. He's running, trying not to slip on the ice or collide with the disgruntled New Yorkers he shoves past. All he knows is that he needs to get to Kurt, and he needs to get to him now.

He thanks his lucky stars that the doorman even lets him in in his state, but then he's in the elevator and pressing the penthouse button and he can't seem to get himself under control. The ride to the top floor is both too slow and too fast, because suddenly the doors are sliding open to reveal a crowded room of elegantly dressed people and what the hell is he thinking.

And then he sees Kurt. Dressed beautifully as always in a midnight blue suit, his pale skin positively glowing under the fairy lights strung around the room. He's pushing through the crowd toward Blaine with his eyes cast down, muttering apologies to the people he bumps into.

Blaine meets him halfway, catching his forearm before he can get too far. "Kurt."

Blue eyes meet his, and they're full of surprise and a brief flash of anger. Kurt yanks his arm away. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hisses.

This is the moment, he can feel it. He just hopes he can say something right for a change.

"I love you."

Kurt's eyes go somehow wider, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response. "Y-you...what?"

"I said, I love you." He tries to reach for Kurt's hand, but Kurt pulls it back.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Don't. Don't you dare come here and say that to me and expect everything to just be fixed. I won't be your safety net anymore, Blaine! I can't just change who I am for your comfort. And I know you're sorry about what happened between us, but I can't take this game anymore."

Blaine takes a deep breath. "No, listen to me." He waits until Kurt's eyes are back on him. "I didn't come here tonight to apologize. You've heard enough of that.

"I came here tonight because I'm in love with you. I love everything about you. I love that it takes you four and a half hours to order your dinner. I love that you're an uptight perfectionist who never leaves me alone. I love that you look like you're about to walk down a runway when we're just running out for coffee. I love that you're freezing cold when it's seventy-five degrees out, and I love that you're the first person I want to talk to when I wake up and the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep. So no, I didn't come to apologize, and I didn't come because it's New Year's Eve and I'm lonely. I came because when you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible!" He's practically shouting by the time he's finished, needing to be heard above the people counting down around him.

There are tears in Kurt's eyes as the new year hits and he stares at Blaine, shaking his head in disbelief. "God, this is just like you, Blaine." He looks up as Auld Lang Syne rings out around them, blinking the moisture from his eyes. "You say things like that and you make it impossible for me to hate you." Blaine's heart catches in his chest, a warm smile starting to curl his lips. Kurt wipes at his eyes. "And I hate you, Blaine. I really hate you." But there's no heat behind the words, and then Kurt is smiling and he's reaching forward and grabbing Blaine by the front of his sweatshirt to haul him in.

They don't kiss like they did last time, when they were confused and in a hurry and trying to drown their feelings. One of Blaine's hands is anchored on Kurt's hip, the other pressing the small of his back to get him closer. The hand that Kurt doesn't have fisted in the front of Blaine's sweatshirt flies up to cup his jaw. Kurt's lips are soft and insistent and Blaine can't get enough, giving back just as much as he's getting. He feels Kurt smile against his lips, finally pulling back to rest his forehead against Blaine's.

Blaine stares at him, warmth blooming in his chest and trickling down his spine and all the way out to his fingers and toes. He's been an idiot. This is what love feels like. This feels like the most right thing he's ever had. The old song continues to blare around them as they sway slightly together, eyes never leaving each other.

"Do you have any idea what this song means?" Blaine asks finally. "My whole life I've always wondered if it means that you're supposed to forget your acquaintances or remember them. It makes no sense."

Kurt's nose crinkles with amusement. "Maybe it means you're supposed to remember that you forgot them or something." A glowing smile lights up his face, and the look in his eyes makes Blaine smile in response. "Anyway, it's about old friends."

Blaine grins and pulls Kurt close again, and they kiss like nothing else matters. Blaine is kissing his best friend in the middle of a throng of happy couples basking in the glow of the new year, tossing all of his rules out the window. To hell with the repercussions. He's never been happier, and they've never been more at home.