Kurt was almost out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt, please," Blaine said, sounding as close to tears as Kurt felt.

Kurt shoved his hand away and reached for the door knob, but Blaine beat him to it.

"Kurt, please don't leave. I know we're both upset right now, but if you leave, it's just going to make everything worse."

"Oh, really?" Kurt demanded, enraged at himself for how his voice was starting to crack. "Because I don't think I can even look at you right now."

Blaine sighed. "Okay. Then don't. Just...just don't leave, either. If you leave, we probably won't speak for days, and I'll be miserable and I won't be able to sleep or eat, or...or..."

Blaine swallowed hard. "...Unless you want to..."

He couldn't keep his voice from breaking.

"...Break up with me?"

Forgetting himself, Kurt whipped his head around, staring fiercely into Blaine's eyes.

"NO!...I mean..."

Kurt quickly cast his eyes down again.

"No, Blaine. I don't want to break up with you. I'm just...hurt and angry, and I don't think I can talk about this without being a bitch right now."

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. "Okay. Can I...take your bag back upstairs?"

Their eyes met again briefly.

"Please?" Blaine added in a voice so small that it broke Kurt's heart.

Kurt nodded, and took a deep breath. "I think...I'm going to take a walk and...just take some time."

"Okay," Blaine said. He eased Kurt's bag from his shoulder and squeezed his hand briefly before heading back up the stairs.

Blaine decided that the best thing to do was clean.

He cleaned his room, his body, and his clothes. He changed the sheets on his bed, laundered some of Kurt's clothing along with his own, showered, shaved, and changed into an outfit that Kurt would find half way presentable. Blaine put all of Kurt's things in a neat pile on top of his dresser, and dusted all the surfaces in his room and vacuumed the floor. He even burned some Tahitian vanilla incense.

And then he waited.

He kind of wanted to talk to Lila, but she had gone out, leaving a hastily scrawled note on the fridge saying she'd be back later on that night. Blaine wondered if she had heard he and Kurt fighting.

He didn't want to call her, because chances were she was off getting stoned, and as much as it irritated him to admit it to himself, Kurt was right. Knowing that Lila was most likely intoxicated whenever he wanted to connect with her upset him.

Blaine sighed. Why had he gotten so angry with Kurt?

And why had Kurt gotten so angry with him? Not initially – Blaine more or less understood Kurt's defensiveness when Blaine had pretty much jumped down his throat. But why had he gotten so angry about Blaine's conversation with Burt? It had been at least six months ago, and Blaine had really just been looking out for his friend...

Blaine furrowed his brow and dropped his chin into his palm. He had some serious thinking to do.

Kurt managed to make it to the end of Blaine's driveway before he burst into tears. Part of him still wanted to leave – to just get in his car and go back to Lima and ignore Blaine's calls and make him suffer. But of course Blaine had been right, which really kind of pissed Kurt off even more, because it was irritating that Blaine had flipped into Mr. Mature and Insightful right when Kurt was trying his best to storm off in a perfectly good huff.

Because Blaine had been so unfair. Kurt had talked to Lila because he loved Blaine and because he was worried about her, but Blaine had talked to Burt because he had this condescending attitude about Kurt and sex. Granted, that attitude had all but disappeared at this point, seeing as how Kurt had mastered the art of making Blaine utterly helpless and incoherent with a few well-placed strokes and licks, but it had been an undeniable part of their dynamic for a good long while.

Hell, Kurt hadn't even realized that Blaine was a virgin until this weekend- Blaine's easy sexual confidence, his gentle teasing about Kurt's prudishness- theirs had not exactly been an even playing field from the start, and the fact that Blaine had talked to Burt was just an added humiliation.

Kurt wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and began wandering in the direction of the small park that was a couple of blocks from Blaine's house.

When he arrived at his destination, Kurt climbed into the little gazebo in the center of the park and turned on his cell phone. Ignoring the multitude of text messages and missed calls that were doubtless in reference to his drunken YouTube debut, Kurt hit the first button on his speed dial.

"Kurt?"

"Dad?"

"Everything okay?"

Kurt's breath hitched, and he couldn't suppress a loud, shuddering sob that would have been embarrassing if it was anyone other than Burt on the line.

"Hey, now, what's wrong? Are you-"

Kurt hit Ignore at the incoming call from Tina. "Blaine and I are fighting."

"Oh." His father sounded a little awkward, which was to be expected, but definitely wasn't meant to be a deterrent. "You want to talk about it?"

Kurt hit Ignore at the incoming call from Santana. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever seen him this angry, Dad. I don't think I've ever been this angry with him. Everything was so perfect, and then...I just don't know what to do."

"This is what's hard about relationships, kiddo. It sounds like maybe you and Blaine are moving past that honeymoon phase and getting into some deeper stuff here."

Kurt hit Ignore at the incoming call from Mercedes. "I don't want to move past the honeymoon phase. I'm perfectly happy in the honeymoon phase. I was very comfortable there, and I'd still be there right now if Blaine wasn't such a jerk."

Burt said something, but it was obscured by the beep of an incoming text message.

"Pardon?"

"I said, the honeymoon can't last forever, Kurt. But look at it this way – if you guys get through this, it will probably just bring you closer together. Love isn't just about the good, kid. It's about the bad and the ugly too."

Kurt sighed, hitting Ignore at the incoming call from Lauren Zizes. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Ask me anything."

"Did Blaine " - Ignore to an incoming call from Finn - "did he ever come and talk to you? Before we started dating? About...anything?"

There was a pause, during which Kurt hit Ignore to an incoming call from Puck.

"Is that what you boys are fighting about?"

"Well, that's part of it. I don't even...can I...ask what he said to you?"

Burt chuckled awkwardly, and Kurt hit Ignore to another incoming call from Mercedes.

"Well, if memory serves, he came to the garage and said he wanted to talk to me. Asked if I'd ever talked to you about sex."

Kurt felt his cheeks reddening as he hit Ignore to an incoming call from Rachel.

"I sort of...well, to be honest, I sort of tried to pawn it off on him. Told him I was glad you had a friend like him to talk to. But he wasn't having any of it," Burt continued, not masking the fondness in his voice. Despite how royally pissed off at Blaine he was right now, Kurt couldn't help but smile a little at that.

"He said he did try, but you wouldn't listen, and he was worried you might not be safe...you know...when the time came. And he said he admired our relationship, yours and mine, and wished that his old man would talk to him about...that stuff. Said he thought his old man wished he was straight."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, hitting Ignore to an incoming call from Wes. Blaine had never told him that. Sure, Blaine and his father didn't seem all that close, but he had never been anything but polite to Kurt, and Blaine rarely said anything against him. Then again, after Kurt's conversation with Lila that afternoon...maybe he didn't know as much about the Anderson family as he thought he had.

"Hmmm," was all Kurt could manage as he mulled it over.

"You know Kurt, I don't know what you two are fighting about, and I don't want to get in the middle of it, but let me just say this. I'm glad Blaine came to me when he did. I think he was genuinely worried, and I think he was right to do it. You and I needed to have that talk, and I'm glad we did."

Kurt sighed, ignoring an incoming call from Brittney. "I'm still more or less scarred for life from that talk, but yeah, I'm glad we did too."

"You want to talk about...the rest of it? Whatever it is that's actually going on between you two?"

Kurt patiently waited for the beeping of an incoming text message to subside before replying.

"No...I just need some time to think, I suppose. But thanks, Dad. For picking up, and listening, and...thanks."

"Thank you, Kurt. You know, it means a lot to me that I'm the one you called."

Kurt felt a pang of guilt. He had wanted to talk to his father, but he had also chosen Burt because he was one of the few people close to Kurt who wouldn't spend half the phone call focused on his drunken YouTube escapade.

"I love you, Dad," he said, because he meant it, it was always good to say, and it made him feel a little less guilty.

"I love you too, son. I'll see you tomorrow, then? Unless you...want to come home a little early? Take some space?"

Kurt hit Ignore to another incoming call from Tina, and smiled very slightly.

"No...I think I should stay here and try to work this out with Blaine. But if you do end up seeing me tonight, have the chocolate ready, because I'm going to need it."

"You got it."

"That organic Swiss chocolate I like, Dad. Don't even think about offering me a Hershey bar."

"Kurt, when are you going to let that go? That must have been two years ago."

Kurt hit Ignore to an incoming call from Mike Chang- what? Seriously, Tina? - and said goodbye to his father. As Burt hung up, he finally accepted Mercedes' incoming call.

"Oh my God, what?" he demanded by way of greeting.

It was a little over two hours since Kurt had left, and Blaine sensed himself starting to become insane.

First of all, where were Kurt's car keys? He should have made Kurt give him his keys before he left, because maybe Kurt had just waited until Blaine had the vacuum or the shower going and then hopped in his car and booked it back to Lima. Maybe he was going to send Finn or Mercedes over to pick up his things and coolly inform Blaine that Kurt wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and he'd better stay away if he didn't want to get slapped with a restraining order.

Blaine wondered if he should steal a shirt from Kurt's bag just in case, so he could breathe in Kurt's scent while he cried himself to sleep and listened to Billie Holiday.

Just then, he heard the front door open and softly close. Blaine sprinted out of his room.

He came to a stop at the top of the staircase. He stared down. Kurt stared up.

"You came back," Blaine breathed.

Kurt looked taken aback. "Of course I came back. I said I was just going for a walk. I...I think I'm ready to talk now, if you are."

Blaine nodded. "Why don't you come on up?"

They walked into Blaine's room and sat down, Blaine on the bed and Kurt on the chair at his desk.

The silence was most definitely awkward.

"You...cleaned up," Kurt said, and Blaine wasn't sure whether Kurt was referring to the room or to Blaine himself. He simply nodded.

"Looks good," Kurt muttered. "I...I would have helped."

Okay, so probably the room, given the current state of things between them. Blaine shrugged.

"I wanted to. Thought it might be a nice change for you to come back to."

Kurt nodded.

Blaine exhaled sharply, and looked directly at his boyfriend.

"Kurt, I'm sorry."

"Good."

Blaine bit his lip and looked away. Shit.

"No...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, that was mean. I...the way you yelled at me, Blaine, that really wasn't acceptable."

"I know."

"And I just...sometimes it feels like you think I'm some kind of child. Like I'm not your equal."

"Kurt, I don't want you ever to think that."

"Well...I don't, not really, but sometimes it just feels that way. Like I can't intercede on your behalf, but you can tell my father that he needs to have a talk with me..."

Blaine sighed. "Kurt, can I tell you something?"

"Of course," Kurt said warily.

"It's...I think you're right. I'm afraid to confront Lila about some of her more self-destructive behaviors, and I get really defensive of her. It's just...you don't even know what she's done for me."

"Tell me."

"Well, you know the school I was at before Dalton? I had this particular bully – I guess you could say he was my Karofsky, more or less, although I don't think he was necessarily closeted, just malicious – and one day after gym he decided to have some good wholesome fun, and he...he pulled my pants down, and he held me down and wrote some things on me, and all the guys in the locker room just laughed...and...and..."

Blaine's cheeks were burning with humiliation at the memory. He began to wrap his arms around himself protectively, but suddenly Kurt was there beside him, and he was holding him, and he was murmuring "Oh, Blaine..."

"Well, my parents didn't exactly go down there and demand justice like your father did for you. I think my Dad would have been less embarrassed if I was the one doing the targeting. And I didn't push for anything to happen, because I didn't want to humiliate my father. And my Mom did push for my Dad to let me go to Dalton, but other than that she just deferred to him as usual. But Lila..."

Kurt noticed the tiniest hint of a smile creep across Blaine's face.

"Kurt, this guy was built a lot like Karofsky, and you've seen Lila. She's probably 5'3" in platforms. So I don't know if she just caught him by surprise or what, but the day after Lila found out what happened, I saw this guy and his face looked like five pounds of raw meat. He had a black eye and a split lip, and his nose was all puffy and disfigured-" at this point in the story, Blaine actually laughed.

"Anyway, Lila got suspended. My parents were livid. I think having a bruiser for a daughter on top of a weak little pansy for a son just about did my Dad in. But she just kept saying that she would do it again, and she didn't care if next time she got expelled or even arrested, because nobody was going to mess with her little brother."

Blaine sighed. "Of course, you can imagine the wonders that did for my already gilded reputation. Still, it pretty much kept the harassment confined to verbal assaults until I was finally able to get out of there."

Blaine looked at Kurt.

"And...there's something else."

Kurt held him tighter. "Blaine, you don't have to..."

"I never thought you were stupid, Kurt. Not about sex or anything else. The reason I was so worried about you...well, it's kind of tied in to why I'm so protective of Lila."

Kurt continued to hold him silently, waiting for Blaine to continue.

"When I was fifteen, Lila took me to this party..."

It had happened almost exactly two years ago. At the time, Blaine's social life was mostly comprised of tagging along with Lila and her friends and wishing he were half as cool as any of them. And tonight was the first time that Lila had agreed to let Blaine come to a party with her.

He was incredibly nervous and excited, and changed his clothes at least five times before settling on an outfit. It wasn't just that there was going to be drinking at the party, and it wasn't just that some of the people there were going to be seniors or even in college, it was the fact that he knew there would be gay guys there. Openly gay guys. He had never before been faced with such a ripe, enticing promise.

When he was finally ready, he paused before looping the chain of freedom rings around his neck. Because yeah, they were kind of dorky, but Blaine wanted to make his orientation known. He wanted there to be no confusion at all if the man of his dreams happened to spy him from across the room that night.

Because Blaine was ready to meet someone. He thought about sex so often, he was afraid he was going to start failing classes. He woke up sticky every single morning, and he jerked off at least four times a day. He was nothing but a quivering bundle of hormones, and he didn't know anyone, anyone that he would ever actually be able to have sex with. And sex was the point, wasn't it? He was a guy, and guys wanted sex, and now all he needed to do was find a cute guy that thought he was cute too.

At the party, Blaine drank. A lot. And he smoked. A lot. He wanted to seem cool, he wanted to loosen up, and most of all he wanted to quell the terror he felt at the very attractive guy that had focused on him with laserlike precision, who was staring at Blaine with raw want as he draped his arm around Blaine's shoulder, shotgunned bong hits into Blaine's mouth, encouraged Blaine to have just one more drink.

Blaine hadn't prepared himself to feel terrified.

And before he knew it, he was in an empty bedroom with this guy. And he was underneath this guy. And this guy was grinding into him, and Blaine didn't know what the fuck to do or what the fuck he wanted, because he was really, really shitfaced, but the grinding felt really, really good, but he had this feeling in his chest that was really, really weird, and really pretty hollow.

Blaine didn't fight against him because he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to. He felt utterly disconnected from his body, like he was watching from the outside.

This wasn't how he had pictured it happening at all.

And then somehow, the guy's hand was down his pants, and Blaine felt like he couldn't breathe, and he wasn't sure whether it was a good feeling or a horrible one. He wanted to slow down, take a breath, gather his thoughts. But that just wasn't going to happen. Whatever this guy wanted was exactly what was going to happen, because the guy was going full steam ahead, just doing what he wanted to do without asking Blaine what he wanted, and Blaine felt himself simply letting it happen.

Until a voice pierced his mental fog like a bolt of lightning.

"Jason, what the hell do you think you're doing to my little brother?"

The guy – Jason, Blaine supposed – rolled off of Blaine, but kept his hand down his pants. He laughed.

"What's the problem, Lila? He doesn't seem all that little to me."

"You get your hands off him this fucking minute. He's fifteen, Jason. He's a child."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. He's old enough to know what he's doing."

"No, you're old enough to know what you're doing, you fucking pedophile. Now get your hand out of his pants right this second or I'm calling the fucking police."

Jason glared at her, but pulled his hand out of Blaine's jeans. He sighed, his eyes raking across Blaine one last time, before he got up and headed toward the door.

"Hey, if you want to call me sometime..." Jason tossed over his shoulder.

"No. He doesn't. Now get out of my sight."

Jason walked out of the room, pausing briefly next to Lila on his way out.

"Cunt," he spat.

"That's Ms. Cunt to you, you creepy motherfucker!" She yelled after him.

Blaine had drawn himself into a sitting position on the bed and was now frozen there, feeling a bit shell-shocked.

Lila spun around to face him, eyes blazing.

"Blaine, what the fuck were you thinking? Jason is twenty-four! He's a goddamned predator! The only reason he even comes to these parties is to chase after teenage boys! What is wrong with you? How could you do something so fucking stupid?"

Blaine just stared at her, wide eyed, and then burst into tears.

And Lila's expression broke, and she was crying too, and then she rushed over to Blaine and gathered him up in her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I was just so scared. I couldn't find you, and then someone told me you'd gone off with Jason, and...I can't believe I didn't watch you. It was my fault. What was I even thinking bringing you here?"

She rocked him gently, both of them shaking with sobs.

"Baby," she whispered, "don't let it be like this. Please don't let your first time be like this. You're too special for that. I love you too much for that. Baby, please."

Lila had called them a cab soon after that, and she had walked Blaine up to his room and tucked him into bed.

"Tomorrow, we need to have a talk," she said. "I want you to hear me with a clear head."

And the next day, once Blaine had worked through the worst of his hangover, they did have that talk.

And Lila had told him about her first time. How cold and detached it was, how lacking in tenderness. How empty she had felt afterward. How deeply she regretted it.

"It's not as if I'm ruined for life or anything, Baby, I'll be fine. But don't let anyone tell you that your first time doesn't matter. And don't let anyone tell you that it isn't a big deal. It's a very big deal. And having a penis doesn't make that any less true. I know you, Blaine. You're sweet and sensitive, and I don't care what Dad says, there is nothing wrong with that and everything right with it. If your first time is with someone you don't love, it will make you very, very sad."

And then she had thrown in a mention of condoms and STDs and instructed him to take the time to educate himself before even contemplating carnal relations with anyone besides his hand.

And Blaine had promised Lila that he would wait to have sex until he was in love.

And because of that, Kurt had been his first.

And because of that, Blaine owed Lila everything.

By the time Blaine had finished his story, all the anger and tension had dissolved from the room, and both he and Kurt were crying.

"Kurt, that's why-"

"I know, Blaine. I know. It makes so much sense now."

"I'm so sorry-"

"So am I. I love you. I'm so glad you waited for me."

"Oh, Kurt, you have no idea."

And then they were kissing and crying at the same time, hugging each other tightly, their kisses tender and deep. They rolled back onto the bed, and they both knew that this was perfect, that they were perfect, and the best possible way to punctuate Blaine's story, to honor the gift that Lila had given him, was to simply make love.

Kurt slid Blaine's shirt off and trailed kisses up and down his back, his fingertips moving lightly across Blaine's sides. Blaine gave a sigh of pleasure, moving onto his side and pulling Kurt against him. He unbuttoned Kurt's shirt and slid it off his arms one at a time, replacing Kurt's left sleeve with his mouth, sucking the soft, taut flesh of his shoulder.

Everything was slow and deliberate, almost seeming to lack their usual urgency, but lack was the wrong word entirely. There was no sense of lack at all - instead, there was something undeniably more to the way they moved and touched. They were tentatively exploring the junction between sex and love; the hot, bright, overwhelming sensation of finding an utterly beloved soul wrapped in desperately desired flesh.

As they slowly became naked, they found themselves pausing to concentrate on each newly revealed expanse of flesh – chest, arms, back, thighs, calves and toes all receiving the reverence they were due.

"I love every square inch of you," Kurt whispered, trailing his tongue from the swell of Blaine's ass to the back of his knee.

"I love every last part of you," Blaine murmured, kissing a warm, wet trail from Kurt's hip to the base of his neck.

They continued their slow dance, kissing and nuzzling and licking and sucking until they were both so hard they hurt.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured, their naked bodies intermingled, cocks nestled together, noses touching.

"What- what do you want to do?"

Blaine smiled and moved Kurt's hand to his ass. "Will you make love to me again?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Already? Aren't you – don't you hurt? I can't even imagine, right now."

Blaine laughed softly. "To be honest, Kurt, I think my threshold for this might be slightly different than yours."

"Well...yes, I would have to agree," Kurt admitted. "You don't...mind, do you?"

Blaine kissed him. "Not if you don't."

To say Kurt didn't mind would certainly be an understatement.

"I want to try something first, though," Blaine murmured, reaching for the almond oil. He slicked up Kurt's cock while Kurt groaned, and rubbed some between his own ass cheeks as well.

Blaine rolled onto his back and spread his legs, pulling Kurt down on top of him. He positioned Kurt's cock between his cheeks, and began to rock his hips, groaning as Kurt's cock began to glide back and forth against the sensitive flesh, bucking with pleasure when the head of Kurt's cock slid across his quivering entrance.

Kurt moved his hips against Blaine's, enjoying the slick heat and the slight pressure. He slid his hands from Blaine's hips to his ass, and began squeezing his ass cheeks more tightly around his thrusting cock.

Blaine's eyes rolled back and his head fell back against the pillow.

"Oh, Kurt," he moaned. "I need to feel you inside me. Please."

Kurt obediently coated his fingers with almond oil and moved them to Blaine's already-slippery entrance, sliding his forefinger inside very tentatively.

Blaine clutched at the sheets and arched his back, moaning.

"Is it...okay?" ventured Kurt nervously.

"Y-yes," Blaine ground out. "It's just – so-unh-sensitive. I-it's just...wow."

Kurt began moving his finger very, very slowly, watching Blaine's face, waiting until he asked for more, and then giving him exactly what he wanted.

When Kurt finally began to sink his cock into Blaine, he found himself shivering at the intimacy. He leaned forward and kissed Blaine's lips as he began to thrust, whispering I love you like a mantra, fighting back tears at the enormity of the feeling.

And Blaine felt full to the brim, the raw, physical sensitivity of Kurt moving inside him laced with pain and soaked with pleasure.

He loved it, and he loved Kurt - his body and his soul and his bitchiness and his loveliness. And Blaine whispered it back, groaned it, cried it out when Kurt slid against his throbbing prostate.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

And it was beautiful because it was everything. It was nestled flesh and deep intimacy and the blending of hearts, and it was a driving pace, and Kurt's balls slapping against the flesh of Blaine's ass as he thrust deep into his body. It was the physical sensation and the smell of sex, the delicate trust and the loving eyes all woven into something utterly unique and timeless and untouchable.

Something that was only them.

Blaine's legs were draped over Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt was braced against the mattress. Kurt was fucking Blaine slowly and rhythmically, lost in the delicious little gasps and cries that Blaine was emitting. And God, this was lasting so long, and Blaine still wasn't asking him to speed up, and it seemed momentarily plausible that they literally could just keep fucking like this forever, and in that moment Kurt genuinely contemplated the existence of God and heaven for the first time in many, many years.

Of course, pragmatist that he was, the moment turned out to be fleeting. Because Kurt's body had made a decision for him, and had begun to speed up without conscious knowledge. The build up to his orgasm had been so slow, so intense that he was feeling drawn to his completion like a a scrap of metal to a strong magnet. And the faster that Kurt moved, the more beautifully Blaine bucked and whimpered.

Blaine began to stroke himself in time to Kurt's thrusts, and the sight was almost too much to bear. Blaine had never looked sexier, and Kurt tried to force his brain to latch onto and remember how much it turned him on to watch Blaine touch himself like this.

It turned him on so much, in fact, that he hadn't even noticed how much harder he was driving into Blaine, panting fast and heavy, lost in the eroticism of this moment, in the fact that Blaine was touching himself while Kurt was inside him, and when he watched Blaine come - head thrust back, chest heaving, sweat glistening, ragged cry tumbling from full, parted lips - Kurt almost screamed with joy.

The sight of Blaine coming, together with the feel of Blaine's muscles clenching and spasming around Kurt when it happened finished the job. His orgasm was drawn out and incredibly intense, and when he collapsed beside Blaine, he felt like all of his bones had been utterly liquefied.

Blaine felt just as spent, barely able to lift his arm enough to grab a couple of wet wipes from the bedside table.

"Blaine, will you kiss me?" Kurt whispered when Blaine had finished cleaning himself off.

"Of course. Come here."

"No, you should come here."

"You're too far away."

"But I can't move."

"Neither can I."

Both boys stared at each other, then valiantly attempted to shuffle slightly, with much groaning and whining, until they were finally able to close the few inches of distance between them and envelop one another in boneless, liquid arms.

They kissed softly, slowly and lazily, barely conscious but somehow entirely physically present for the activity at hand.

"We just had make-up sex, didn't we?" mumbled Blaine against Kurt's lips.

"That we did."

"Do we need to talk more about-"

Kurt silenced him with a kiss.

"Yes," he answered when he pulled back. "Probably. But later. Right now I just want to feel how much I love you, and how simple and uncomplicated it is."

Blaine gave a happy sigh in agreement.

"It is simple, isn't it? The love part, anyway. Sometimes it's so intense I can barely stand it, Kurt, but it's completely straightforward."

Blaine kissed Kurt.

"I love you," he said simply.

"I love you," Kurt returned, "even when you are a complete jerk."

Blaine smiled, and tickled Kurt's ribs lightly.

"Same here," he said, and gave Kurt another kiss.