Blaine wanted nothing more than to cover Kurt with chaste, reassuring kisses. There were so many things he wished he could communicate to Kurt, feelings of solace, acceptance, of love. He felt as if he knew no other way.

He didn’t, of course, kiss Kurt. That would be crossing such a major line Blaine thought to himself, before he realized that he’d already pushed his boundaries. He couldn’t believe how far past the line he’d come that afternoon. The line must be a mile behind me. He thought again about what Peter would think if he ever heard about this. Blaine’s thoughts were of course tinged with guilt, but the last thing he was about to do was interrupt Kurt’s story, and leave him despondent and alone.

“I made them leave,” Kurt said simply, “They all filed out. I waited a few minutes, and I cried… harder than I had before in my life. I felt a bit like I had earlier today, before you came…” Kurt shifted, snuggling closer into Blaine. “No one came by for a while. I’m sure the nurses heard my wails echoing down the hall,” Kurt laughed pitifully, “I kept feeling like… I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know, I felt like somehow Ginger could hear me,”

His hand stopped tracing lines across the fabric, his palm settling over Blaine’s chest, as if his shirt would be warmer along the skin above his heart.

“That’s not stupid” Blaine whispered into Kurt’s hair.

Blaine knew that talking about his emotions so blatantly was more than difficult for Kurt. Blaine’s heart seemed to swell as he realized he was one of the few that Kurt felt he could trust.

“When I finally calmed down I heard the door open behind me. I figured it was one of my dad’s nurses, so I stepped back so she could check the IVs,” As Kurt’s hand rested on his chest, Blaine could feel the pulse pounding from Kurt’s wrist. For some reason Blaine’s head had formed little beeps each time it throbbed.

“But when I looked back, it wasn’t a nurse at all. It was Peter. We made eye contact for a second and then he went over to her. We didn’t say a thing to each other that day. But I watched him, and he watched me.”

Blaine could vaguely taste salt on his lips, realizing it must somehow be from Kurt’s tears.

“He kissed her on the forehead, and then sat down beside her. He did homework, watched the soundless TV in the corner of the room, read a book… but he never let go of her hand,” Kurt’s fingers tensed over Blaine’s chest.

“I left first that day. I didn’t think much about either of them for the rest of the week, to be honest. Not until I came back again with Mercedes the following Tuesday. She noticed us watching each other like that. Asked me about it the next day at school. I had nothing to tell her really… but it forced him into my thoughts,”

Kurt took a moment to gather himself and sort out the flood of feeling.

“His eyes were silent, sad… pitying even, when he saw me. I realized he must have heard. He must have paced outside. He must have waited, listening as I hiccupped and keened and my eyes eventually went dry. Then he finally decided to come in,”

~.~*~.~

“So who knows what, then?” Wes said, tossing a soccer ball above his head as he stared at the ceiling from his bed.

“I don’t even know anymore” Jeff answered.

Wes caught the ball one more time. God, he missed soccer.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Neither of them know about making each other jealous… and I’d like to keep it that way, at least until they’re fucking each other so much that they forget what it’s like to be angry,”

“What?”

“Trust me,” Jeff said confidently, “Personal experience,” he winked suggestively in Wes’ direction.

“Well I’m glad your left hand has stopped getting so angry with you,” Jeff glared at him, “but this is serious. We really need to make sure one of them just wins this stupid power struggle and then they can live happily ever after and all that shit,”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this… they’ll be boyfriends before you can say buttsex, and they’ll have me to thank!”

“You are so disgusting,”

“I do my best,”

~.~*~.~

“It’s not about god, he said. It’s not about prayer. and it’s not about you.” Kurt spoke the words like they were permanently implanted in his head. Blaine was sure those three sentences had been swimming around in his brain for months, festering, making themselves indivisible from the rest of his thoughts.

Kurt had briefly recounted opening up to Peter, about feeling alone while surrounded by well-meaning and condescending friends, before telling Blaine the words that had made Peter more than just the boy whose friend had shared a room with his father.

“It’s about belief. and not just in some dude with a beard, but just the power of believing that positive thoughts can actually make things happen. I don’t care if you find that in nature, in a figment of your imagination, or in him,” Kurt’s voice cracked and Blaine could feel the thought of a broken Burt pushing it’s way into his thoughts, as he recounted Peter’s reference to his father, “but you don’t understand how important it is to this situation that you simply find it.”

There was a long silence in which Kurt laid still in Blaine’s arms. The absence of sound, movement, or anything more substantial than those words still hung in the air, stretching through the room. Suddenly Blaine realized that maybe Kurt was simply waiting for him to fill the void.

“Kurt-”

“Not yet,” Kurt all but whispered, resting one finger against Blaine’s lips, “Not finished just yet,”

They both reluctantly agreed to move into a sitting position out of practicality now that Kurt had calmed down and their muscles had started to tense after staying in one position for so long.

Although the beds at Dalton were not made to accommodate two people, Kurt and Blaine sat side by side against the headboard, Kurt’s pillows stacked behind them. Luckily both boys were small enough to fit comfortably, but it forced them to sit impossibly close to one another. The room seemed uncharacteristically warm, so they decided to pull the comforter down as night began to draw across the sky outside Kurt and Jeff’s window.

He and Kurt now sat up in the bed, legs outstretched over rumpled sheets. Getting out from under the covers had been like waking up after a long sleep. He had observed as Kurt’s agitation soothed, but Blaine felt strong enough for the both of them anyway. The sleep had left him rested and collected. He felt protective, and for once he felt absolutely capable of defending.