Kurt covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned widely.

“Late night?” Blaine asked as he refilled Kurt’s coffee cup.

“Yeah, someone kept me awake all night.” Kurt smiled slyly at Blaine and then continued typing on his laptop.

“Can’t you hear that rooster crowing..” Blaine sang.

“Seriously? Cock jokes?” Kurt raised his eyebrow at Blaine.

“If you had let me finish I was going to sing, ‘The night passed away so quickly, it always does when you’re with me’ Blaine continued the verse of Bob Dylan.

Kurt laughed. “My bad.”

“Just because you have a filthy mind, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t be romantics.” said Blaine.

“Oh no, really? This from the person who asked me top or bottom the first day we met?”

“Well -” Blaine began but Kurt cut him off.

“No more dirty talk at work. Aren’t you supposed to be doing something or do you get paid to refill my coffee and serenade me?”

Blaine raised his hands in defeat as he sauntered back over to the counter.

Kurt smiled at his boyfriend and continued typing up a proposal for work on his laptop. He was seated near the front window in the Starbucks on West 45th Street where Blaine worked.

It was early December and the snow was coming down hard outside. Kurt let his mind wander back to the previous night as he watched the snowflakes. Last night, Blaine had sprung from bed in the middle of the night and started scribbling furiously on a pad of paper.

Kurt had woken up and watched Blaine scribble notes on the page, and then words, hastily scrawled and illegible.
He always liked to watch Blaine write music. He was intense about it, writing furiously and inspiration struck him at the most random moments.

At the same time, it ate away at something inside Kurt, watching him pour his heart onto a page in that way. It made him think of the blank canvas in his living room that he yearned to fill with colour, but he could never bring himself to do it.

Blaine had crawled back into bed a quarter of an hour later, whispering excitedly to Kurt about chords and melodies and motifs and a variety of other things he had been too tired to pay attention to. He’d just studied Blaine’s face as he talked, watching the way he gestured animatedly with his hands and the way his lips wrapped around his words. Kurt had brought his hands to Blaine’s face and ran his fingers over the stubble on his cheeks, pressing his lips insistently onto his.

Was two months too soon for the word love?

Kurt remembered the weak feeling in his knees and the way that Blaine’s mouth pressed up against his ear had sent him spiralling out of control. He hadn’t spoken, for fear of the things he might have said to Blaine but they had made love until the sun began to rise.

Hence his midday exhaustion and his third cup of coffee. He was waiting patiently for Blaine to finish his shift so that they could head down to the MOMA together for the new exhibition.

Kurt didn’t even look up when the door opened, letting in a rush of cold air and another customer until the crashing sound of something falling to the ground caught his attention.

He saw that Blaine had dropped a pot of coffee to the floor and was staring at the man who had just entered.
The expression on his face jolted Kurt from his chair.
Blaine looked terrified.

His face had drained of all colour and his eyes were wide as they surveyed the man in the suit and tie.

The man was tall, with thick wavy hair. He approached Blaine and when he reached the counter, Blaine backed as far as he could away from the man.

“Can I get a grande cafe misto?” he said, in a deep voice.

Blaine looked confused and for a moment he just gaped open mouthed. One of the girls that he worked with stepped forward to make the man’s drink, noticing Blaine’s distress.

Kurt watched as she gestured at the clock, telling Blaine his shift was over. Blaine just nodded mutely, nearly tripping over his feet as he exited through the back door to gather his coat.

Kurt studied the man intently once Blaine had left, trying to figure out what it was about him that had shaken Blaine so badly. He looked ordinary to Kurt. He was tall, well over six feet with dark hair and was well dressed in a dark suit.

Kurt guessed he was maybe thirty, and he carried a briefcase. Maybe a business man? He waited a few more minutes for Blaine to re-emerge, and when he didn’t Kurt asked the girl at the counter about Blaine, all the while eyeing the man in the suit warily.

She shrugged and told Kurt he could go back and get Blaine if he wanted to. So Kurt thanked her and pushed through the door to the staff room.

It was empty.

He looked around in confusion for a moment before noticing that there was a door that led outside into the alleyway and it was propped open.

“Blaine?” he called as he walked through the door.

Blaine was sitting in the alley, knees pulled up to his chest, back against the brick wall.

He was shaking.

“Blaine, Jesus, what--”Kurt got down on the ground beside him and reached out his hand to his shoulder but Blaine jerked away violently.

Kurt was at a loss. He sat quietly beside Blaine as the minutes passed, watching him struggle to breathe.

After what felt like forever to Kurt, Blaine seemed to gather himself and he stood up, extending his hand to Kurt.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Kurt just stared at him.

“You...but Blaine...what just happened?”

“Kurt...can we just go?” Blaine scuffed the toe of his shoe against the pavement, avoiding Kurt’s eyes.

“What? No. Are you okay? Who is that guy?” Kurt pressed.

“Kurt I...” Blaine’s voice cracked. “I need you to believe me when I say I can’t talk about this right now. And I need you to trust me when I say that I want to tell you, and I will as soon as I can. Can you do that?”

Kurt was deeply troubled by what he had just witnessed, but the pleading look on Blaine’s face made him cave. And he did trust Blaine, he did.

“Okay. I have an idea. Where’s your guitar?”

Blaine looked visibly relieved that Kurt had decided to let it go. He motioned back towards the door. “I was going to leave it at work until I come back tomorrow.”

“Go get it.”

“What about the MOMA?”

“Screw the MOMA. I have a much better idea.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt, but obliged. The pair boarded the subway and headed in the direction of the park.

Kurt watched Blaine carefully as they sat on the subway. He sat quietly, less talkative than usual, fiddling with the straps on his guitar case. He still looked pale, and Kurt noticed that his foot ticked nervously against the seat.

Kurt wasn’t actually going to forget about what had happened, but he believed Blaine when he said he couldn’t talk about. He looked distraught, and as badly as Kurt wanted to know what had made him so upset, he wanted even more to make Blaine smile again.

So that’s how they found themselves in the middle of Central Park.

“Kurt, what are we doing here? I wasn’t planning on singing today.” Blaine gave Kurt a puzzled look.

“That’s because you aren’t singing today. I am.”

Blaine’s face broke into a huge grin.

That was exactly the reaction Kurt had been hoping for. Blaine had been begging to hear him sing since the first day they met, and he had refused up until now. He figured it might just be the pick me up that Blaine needed.

“You know Blackbird?” Kurt asked once Blaine had gotten his guitar out.

He smiled and nodded, and then began playing.

Kurt pushed down the nervous fluttering feeling in his stomach. Sure, he had done a lot of performing before, but nothing in a setting quite this exposed.

It wasn’t a stage with lights or a backing track, it was just him, his boyfriend, and a guitar in the park. It was unsettling and exciting all at once. The pure joy on Blaine’s face was enough to give Kurt the courage to begin singing.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blaine played the song effortlessly, keeping his eyes glued to Kurt.

Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

Kurt noticed that a small group of people had gathered around them and were watching with interest. Did people like his singing? He felt nervous as the audience grew, but at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes off Blaine for more than a few seconds.

Blaine had completely transformed from his earlier state. All the colour had returned to his face and Kurt noted that he was no longer fidgeting nervously. Kurt loved that music did that for Blaine; brought him to life. He loved that he could do that for Blaine.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Kurt finished the song and the small group of people that had been standing around them offered a bit of scattered applause, but that didn’t matter to Kurt at all. The only thing he cared about was the way Blaine was looking at him. He seemed to be at a complete loss for words, so Kurt sauntered over to him and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s neck, rubbing their noses together gently.

“So. Did I live up to your lofty musical standards?” Kurt asked.

“I love you.” Blaine answered, all the words tumbling out of his mouth together.

Kurt felt the world stop. What? Had Blaine just said what he had thought he said? And wasn’t it just a few hours earlier he had been sitting in Starbucks wondering if this amazing man who had just stumbled into his life somehow could ever love him back? Breathless from the singing and the adrenaline and the force of Blaine’s words, Kurt did the only thing he could.

He kissed him. He kissed him in a way that said I love you too.

~*~

Blaine stood in the bathroom in Kurt’s apartment later that night, staring at himself in the mirror.

He was cracking.

He knew it. He could feel his grip on everything slipping.

It was too much to keep together, and he felt all the small dishonesties building up into one big lie.

He gripped the edge of the counter to try and ground himself, turning on the tap and splashing water on his face.

He stared at his reflection again, disgusted.

He didn’t want to lie to Kurt. He hated it. But now he had gotten himself in too deep to go back.

He had meant what he said in the park earlier that day. He had fallen in love with Kurt. He hadn’t meant to, or even realized it until he had sung that song, and suddenly everything had slid into place for Blaine.

Love.

He knew that he couldn’t keep up his charade forever and that his time was ticking. He had told Kurt that his apartment was undergoing renovations, and that’s why he never brought him there. But after almost three months, he knew that his excuse was wearing thin. He was sure Kurt thought it was strange the way he carried his guitar around everywhere he went, or that he only wore two or three different shirts.

When Nathan had shown up in Starbucks, it had been just another piece of Blaine’s grand delusion falling apart.

It was another part of himself that Blaine had to be ashamed of, and hide from the man he loved.

Fuck. Falling in love with Kurt had made everything so much more complicated.

He rinsed out his mouth, spitting in the sink and resuming his staring competition with the small vanity mirror. He could hear Kurt moving around in the kitchen, getting ready for bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to go out and face him just yet.

He took a few steadying breaths, at least feeling grateful for the fact that Kurt had invited him to stay again that night. He still felt unsteady from his encounter with Nathan in Starbucks and he didn’t know if he could face a night in the snow.

All he wanted to do was slide into bed beside Kurt and hold onto him. He wanted everything else to go away.

“Blaine?” Kurt called from outside. “Come to bed.”

After giving one last withering glare at the man in the mirror, he turned to leave.

He crawled into bed alongside Kurt and wrapped him up in his arms, relishing the feeling of security he didn’t find anywhere else.

When Blaine finally drifted off to sleep, he slept uneasily. He tossed and turned, violent images mixing with dark memory and all of a sudden he was screaming.

“Blaine! Blaine, hey, it’s okay, Blaine wake up.” He could hear Kurt’s voice calling to him, but he couldn’t shake the violent fear that had engulfed him.

Kurt reached out to touch him, but Blaine pulled away, almost falling out of the bed in the process.

He stumbled blindly in the dark room towards the door, shaking all over.

He could hear Kurt calling to him, but he couldn’t breathe, and all he could think was that he needed to get out.

He stumbled shakily to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him as he fell to his knees.

He struggled with the feeling of crushing fear pushing on his chest, warring with the urge to vomit and the urge to rip out his hair by the roots.

The room was spinning. The harder he tried to make it stop, the faster it spun.

He could feel his t-shirt sticking to his chest with cold sweat and became intensely aware of the cold. He shivered, letting the tremors rip through his entire body.

He lay down on the floor, entwining his fingers in his hair and pulled. All he could see was his face. Nathan’s face. Blood.

Every place on his body where Nathan had ever touched him felt like it was on fire.

He let out a low moan.

Kurt was at the door, banging insistently.

“Blaine, honey, what happened? Blaine. Let me in.”

He lay still, trying to get a grip on himself. He couldn’t let Kurt see him like this.

Blaine had been right when he had looked in the mirror and saw the cracks. He had finally cracked.

“Blaine, please, just, open the door.” Kurt’s voice sounded increasingly worried.

He didn’t know where he found the strength to do it, but Blaine reached up and opened the door, before promptly crumpling onto the floor again.

Kurt didn’t say anything. He just sat down on the floor beside Blaine and gathered him up in his arms.

“Shhhh” he cooed gently. “Just breathe. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Blaine felt Kurt press his lips to the top of his head and he took a few steadying breaths into Kurt’s chest.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” He repeated.

It soothed him to have Kurt’s arms around him, but Blaine still felt unhinged. He could still see the faces in his nightmare too clearly. He buried his head further into Kurt’s chest, trying to block them out.

“Can you tell me what the dream was about?” Kurt asked gently after several moments of silence. “Does this have to do with what happened today at the coffee shop?”

Blaine was terrified of what Kurt would think of him once he knew the truth, but he was also terrified of what he would think of him if he didn’t explain himself.

He opened his mouth to try and explain, only to find he couldn’t speak. He took deep breaths instead as Kurt watched him patiently.

“The man in the coffee shop. His name is Nathan.”

Kurt waited as Blaine struggled to collect his thoughts.

“He’s an ex. When I first came to New York, I met him while I was playing music in the park. He worked for a record company and he said he could get me signed. We started dating.”

Kurt rubbed circles on Blaine’s back as he talked and he found it gave him the courage to continue.

“Things were really good. Until...” Blaine sighed; he was getting to the hard part.

“Until his business started going downhill, the company went under. He started drinking. I...he started getting really angry all the time and he was drunk pretty much round the clock. But...I didn’t have very much money and I knew next to no one in New York. So I stayed.”

Kurt nodded understandingly.

“But...he...”

Blaine stopped. He didn’t know if he could actually form the words, let alone say them in the presence of Kurt. He was so ashamed.

“It’s okay. You can tell me.” Kurt whispered into the top of Blaine’s head as they sat on the cold tiles in the semi-darkness.

“No, no. I can’t.” Blaine shivered in Kurt’s arms. They sat there for what seemed like forever in silence, Blaine shivering and Kurt rubbing his back before Blaine finally spoke.

“He started h-hurting me. He’d get really angry when he was drunk and he’s a lot bigger than I am. He would... hit me.”

Kurt drew in a sharp breath. Blaine felt everything pouring out of him now.

“He would hit me, sometimes he pushed me into things; once I blacked out and didn’t wake up for hours.”

Blaine could feel Kurt’s hand quivering inside his own, but he kept going. “I had to get a bunch of stitches, and every time it just got worse and worse. But I stayed.” He felt like he was losing it again, the tears creeping up on him, his words spinning out of control.

“The last night, before I left him, he just kept going. Usually, he’d just take one or two good swings at me and it’d be out of his system. But that night...he kept going. He hit me again and again. God, there was blood everywhere. My ribs were broken. But something just snapped inside me. I hit him back. Broke his nose I think and then I ran. Never looked back.”

He felt a strange weightlessness after confessing to Kurt. He also felt ashamed, small, weak. But he felt light too. He considered for a moment continuing the story, telling Kurt that when he left Nathan in fear for his life he had nothing at all, no money, no home. That he still didn’t have any home. But he couldn’t.

Kurt was still silent. They sat in the heavy silence of Blaine’s confession for what felt like an eternity.

Blaine listened to the sound of their breathing, and watched the night sky through the tiny bathroom window.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t what Blaine had been expecting at all, but somehow it was so much better than any of the platitudes Kurt could have offered. He didn’t want to hear I’m sorry, that’s awful, you poor thing, he wanted to hear that Kurt understood, that he accepted it, that he still wanted Blaine in his life regardless of his past.

Those three words told him all of that and more.