It begins slowly after that first midnight diner date. Blaine is the one to invite Kurt next, and within a week they’re having almost daily meet-ups in caf�s or restaurants during which they talk for hours. Kurt has never talked to anyone that much in so little time, but he feels safe and understood with Blaine, like he can say whatever he wants and Blaine won’t judge him. Blaine seems to be realising the same thing.

It’s during one of those countless dates that Kurt brings up the thing that’s been bothering him for a very long time.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, studying Blaine’s face. There’s an easy smile on it and his eyes light up when he catches Kurt looking at him. “I’m now realising you’re pretty much the best person I’ve ever met,” Blaine grins at that and Kurt rolls his eyes, “and I just. I don’t understand why you were being so mean to me.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, chuckling and shaking his head. “I could ask you the same thing, you know.”

Kurt huffs and leans back in his chair. “I was scared of you, I told you before, don’t you listen to me? Oh my god don’t make me go over this story again, it’s straining enough as it is and—”

“Kurt, Kurt, it’s okay. I do owe you an explanation because I’ve been truly horrible.” Blaine pauses and takes a sip of his coffee, looking outside at the busy street for a moment. Kurt puts his hand over Blaine’s and a warm feeling fills him when Blaine smiles. “I think I really hated you at first.”

Kurt gasps and takes his hand away. He shouldn’t have asked. “Awesome,” he says in a strangled voice.

“No, no, wait! I used to hate you, or at least I think I did. I don’t know. I—I’m really good at being whatever people want me to be? I’m not blaming you or anything, but from the get-go, you were hateful towards me. So I guess I slipped into this, too. Into this ‘arch enemy’ pattern.” Kurt bites back a smile when Blaine does the air quotes. “And you kept being a jerk, so I continued being one right back.”

“And part of why I was so hateful was because of how much of a dick you were.”

“Nice logical fallacy,” Blaine mutters and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“You are such a prep school boy, listen to you,” he says fondly.

“Hey, don’t be so quick to chastise me for it, you’d love the uniform.”

Kurt quirks his eyebrow and takes a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s. Blaine moves his hand against Kurt’s until their palms are pressed together and their fingers are entwined before squeezing it briefly.

“Seriously, though, you shouldn’t let people shape who you are. Including me.”

Blaine hums and shrugs. “I’m working on it. You’re helping.” Kurt ducks his head and smiles against his will. Blaine is so good at being completely earnest when he says the cheesiest things and it makes Kurt feel all fluttery and stupid. “You’re beautiful right now.”

Kurt blushes and keeps his head down, not wanting Blaine to see what he does to him. “Mm,” Kurt lets out, tightening his fingers around Blaine’s.

“No, I’m serious. The light right now is doing wonders to the colour of your eyes and that blush is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And you should wear more blue. It fits you so well.”

“Blaine,” Kurt moans, freeing his hand to push at his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Making up for all the horrible things I told you.”

“Don’t do that.” When Blaine frowns, Kurt sighs and rubs his temple. “Don’t start trying to repair the past. It’s behind us. We work right now and it’s all that matters. You don’t want to go and unearth—we might reopen old wounds and it’ll fuck everything up.”

Blaine nods and breaks off a bit of Kurt’s biscotti, bringing it to his mouth before he speaks. “True. We should work on the future. Our future.”

“Blaine!” Kurt says quickly, his eyes wide. “We’ve only been—this for three months. It’s—”

Blaine shrugs. “I have no intention of letting you go.” Again, he’s being overtly earnest and Kurt finds it hard to hold his gaze. Blaine seems to notice because his hand grips Kurt’s once again. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. I’m being too eager. We should take it slow.”

Kurt looks away from the street and back to Blaine, a sad smile on his face. “You’re doing it again. Letting me shape you.”

“No, I’m being considerate.”

“No, you’re completely changing your mind because I looked scared. If you let me, I will control every aspect of your life and I really don’t want to. It’ll make you hate me. Hold your ground!” Kurt shakes their entwined hands and smirks at Blaine. “You want to talk about the future? Let’s talk about the future.”

And despite the knot in his stomach, Kurt lets Blaine talk about things like ‘moving in together’ and ‘meeting families’ and halfway through their second cup of coffee, Kurt realises his fears are ebbing away, slowly. Blaine talks about them staying together for years like he’s commenting on the forecast of snow for the late afternoon and maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s nothing Kurt has to be scared of. Still, he makes it clear that he is not ready to take too many steps forward.

Blaine, if anything, is stubborn, and despite Kurt’s request that they take it slow with the commitments, Kurt realises Blaine’s started moving in something like two months too late.

It begins with finding Blaine’s clothes when he’s doing the laundry. He doesn’t think twice when he finds pants that are definitely too short for him or shirts he would never ever wear in his hamper. He blames it on himself; the clothes must have been lying on the floor and he picked them up when cleaning after Blaine left.

Once, Blaine forgets his toothbrush and Kurt is so repulsed at the idea of sharing his again that he doesn’t think twice when he buys two instead of one the next day. The shampoo for curly hair finds its way in his shower only because he needs to teach Blaine that his hair doesn’t have to look like he has poodles in his family tree.

It’s when he realises it’s become normal for him to shop for groceries with Blaine that an alarm goes off in his head. He doesn’t just drag him along to carry his bags; he asks for Blaine’s opinion on what he should buy and his pantry is slowly filling with food he would never eat, even under torture. The amount of sugar Blaine ingests is surprising considering how tiny he is.

“Blaine, what are we doing?” he asks and Blaine stops mid-motion, a box of cereals in his hands. Cereals for kids. There are marshmallows in them. Rainbow marshmallows.

Blaine squints at him with puzzlement before smirking. “Did you just have a stroke? We’re buying food. Now come on, we still need to buy cookies. I finished the last box at your apartment.”

“Yes, exactly, Blaine. My apartment. Why am I letting you choose my food?”

“Because I eat over almost every day and you know I can’t stand all that healthy food you love. We’ve discussed this before,” he finishes, hesitating on his last words. “Come on. Cookies.”

Kurt doesn’t move when Blaine does, staying frozen in the middle of the aisle, between boxes of cereals and canned goods, the bass line of the top 40 song playing in the store pounding in his head.

“Kurt?”

“You’re not moving in. Not yet. I’m not ready for that,” he says in a white voice, shaking his head. “It’s nothing personal, and I really like you, but this is just too much. The toothbrush and the shampoo and the clothes are fine, I mean they’re convenient, but you can’t move in yet. I can’t—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Blaine says soothingly, walking over to Kurt and stroking his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to move in. Well, maybe a little.” He smiles sheepishly at Kurt and looks at him through his eyelashes. “But not until you’re ready. I just like knowing some of my stuff is at your place. It’s like a part of me is always with you.”

“Oh yes, your toothbrush really is a romantic representation of you,” Kurt deadpans. He’s started breathing again and his heartbeat is slowing down. “One day, I want you to. But not right now.”

“I know,” Blaine whispers, getting up on his toes and pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s nose before stepping away. “Now, do you prefer Oreos or Bear Paws?”

And seriously, Blaine having so much of his stuff over turns out to be very convenient. Especially when they only have thirty-six hours together in between Kurt’s return from Paris and Blaine’s departure for Los Angeles.

Blaine is already there when Kurt arrives and he makes a mental note to worry later that Blaine has a key to his apartment because for the moment, all he wants to do is throw himself at Blaine, crawl in bed with him and stay there until he has to leave.

Blaine seems to want the same thing with the way he pulls Kurt into a tight hug as soon as he shut the door.

“I missed you,” he says in Kurt’s ear and Kurt hugs him tighter, rocking them side to side.

“I missed you, too. How long do we have?”

“My flight is at 8 tomorrow night.”

Kurt pulls away long enough to glance at the ridiculous cat-shaped clock Santana gave him when he moved in alone – “I’d make a joke about this being the only pussy you’ll ever get but you’re so gay Liberace is jealous, spinster” – and sees that it’s a little after 7 in the morning.

“Okay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s lips. “Okay.” He kisses him again, his hands leaving Blaine’s back to frame his face, holding his jaw and tilting his head up to kiss him deeper.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?” Blaine asks in between kisses. His words don’t fit his actions, his hands already working on Kurt’s coat, fighting with the buttons and then pushing it off his shoulders. He unwraps the bulky scarf from around his neck and then buries his face there, breathing Kurt in.

“I want you,” Kurt says. “It’s been three weeks, and it’ll be another two. I need you right now, Blaine,” he nearly whines, toeing off his shoes and fisting his hands in Blaine’s thin shirt.

He pushes him backwards, their lips crashing together, and they slowly make their way to Kurt’s room, breaking their kiss only so that Kurt can steer them in the right direction before kissing again. Once in his room, Blaine steps away from Kurt and climbs on the bed, scooting across it to rest against the headboard. He looks at Kurt with a wolfish grin and beckons him forward. Kurt crawls on fours across the bed and settles over Blaine, straddling his thigh and sitting in his lap.

Blaine reaches up and trails his fingertips on Kurt’s cheek, tracing the contours of his face with a faraway look in his eyes. His hand moves up to circle the shell of Kurt’s ear and brush the short-trimmed hair around it before moving down his head to wrap around the back of his neck. Blaine pulls him into a kiss and Kurt sighs, his hands resting on Blaine’s shoulders to brace himself as he moves in closer until their chests are pressed together.

“I missed you,” Blaine says again, his other hand grabbing the fabric of Kurt’s shirt at his waist. His hips rock up slightly and Kurt chuckles.

“You missed my dick,” he mumbles against Blaine’s skin, his lips pressing dry kisses along his jaw.

“Yeah, sure, but I also missed you. No one insulted me in the past three weeks. It felt weird.”

“Moron,” Kurt says with a grin before moving in to suck on Blaine’s neck. “I missed you, too. So much,” he whispers against Blaine’s pulse point, kissing the red mark he left there and then dragging his teeth against it.

Blaine groans and bucks up, his hips pressing into Kurt’s and making him gasp. Kurt moves back up to kiss Blaine again. Blaine parts his lips with a gasp when Kurt licks his bottom lip boldly. Kurt pushes his tongue in Blaine’s mouth, shivering when he lets it drag against Blaine’s top teeth.

Their clothes are off soon after, every inch of skin exposed kissed and stroked reverently, and Kurt moans when Blaine pushes him into the mattress, pressing his hips to Kurt’s in a slow grind. Kurt hooks his legs over Blaine’s and skims his hands down Blaine’s sides until he can grab his ass to pull him closer.

Blaine presses his forehead to Kurt’s and Kurt breathes him in, every inch of his skin touching Blaine’s feeling like the nerve endings are on fire.

“What are you thinking?” Blaine breathes out when Kurt doesn’t kiss him back.

I love him. Kurt stops moving as the thought crosses his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut, the strength of the feeling and the realisation making the whole word spin. His heart speeds up and he finds himself panting and it has nothing to do with Blaine’s cock rubbing against his in a slow rhythm.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks and he’s moving away, pulling himself up and looking at Kurt with worried eyes.

Kurt whines and tries to pull him back. He needs Blaine, needs his body and the physicality of it so he doesn’t have to think too much about how much he loves Blaine and what it means that he does.

Of course he loves Blaine. This is the most obvious thing in his entire life and it explains everything. He loves Blaine with every fibre of his body, he loves him and for the first time in his life, he feels certain about something. Kurt Hummel loves Blaine Anderson and isn’t that the best fucking thing ever?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Blaine moves out of his reach. Kurt resolutely keeps his eyes shut, relishing in the light-headed feeling this new-found knowledge brings him. He loves Blaine. “Kurt, honey, what’s wrong?”

Kurt bites his lip when Blaine starts stroking his stomach in soothing circles. He opens his eyes and looks at Blaine, sees that he’s lying on his side and propped up on his elbow to look at Kurt, and Kurt finds himself smiling. He considers telling Blaine what he’s just realised and that thought makes him blush and makes his skin tingle with excitement and nerves.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks again, this time sounding amused because Kurt is unable to hide his smile.

“I love you,” Kurt says simply before grinning bashfully. He would disgust himself if he weren’t in love with Blaine.

“Oh my god,” Blaine breathes out, his eyes widening.

“What.” Kurt’s grin has faded and now he’s frowning. What now, seriously.

“Are you serious?” Blaine asks and his voice his rough and oh, that does things to Kurt.

“You think I’d joke about this?” Kurt snaps and he’s getting annoyed, now. “This is the part where you’re supposed to say something, by the way.”

Blaine’s face breaks into a grin at that and he moves in closer and leans over Kurt to kiss him. “I love you,” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s lips and Kurt kisses him harder. There’s too much teeth and it’s too sloppy but Kurt can’t seem to be bothered by it because Blaine loves him too. He always suspected it, what with the way Blaine seems to worship the ground he walks on, but to hear it feels amazing.

Kurt rolls them over before attacking Blaine’s mouth with his own and hearing him taking a sharp breath when Kurt gets on top of him, lining up their bodies from toes to shoulders. He starts kissing down Blaine’s neck and across his collarbone, briefly sinking his teeth in the salty-tasting flesh, smirking when Blaine gasps and squirms under him.

“You love this so much,” Kurt whispers, lapping at the red marks he left before blowing cool air on it.

Kurt scrapes his teeth down Blaine’s chest, causing his breath to hitch and stop for a second when he goes over one of Blaine’s nipples. Kurt notices and smirks against Blaine’s skin, wrapping his lips around it and sucking until Blaine is panting and pulling at his hair to bring him back up and kiss him.

“Kurt, just—”

Kurt only hums, glancing up at Blaine with lust-filled eyes when he pulls away to move further down the bed. Kurt starts stroking circles into Blaine’s hips as he nuzzles his navel, his warm breath making Blaine squirm.

“Come here,” Blaine says, fingers wrapping around his bicep to pull him up. Kurt stays put, kissing along the trail of hair below Blaine’s navel. “Kurt—”

“Oh my god, shut up Blaine!” Kurt snaps, the sharp exhale of air following it blowing over Blaine’s erection and making him shudder. “If you don’t want this, I won’t bother, fuck.”

Blaine moans and Kurt smirks again. They both know how much it turns Blaine on when Kurt is being bossy.

“Oh shit I love you so much,” Blaine lets out brokenly when Kurt presses his tongue under the head of his cock, his hands back in Kurt’s hair. In reply, Kurt sucks on the tip shallowly before swirling his tongue around the head and looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed doing this,” Kurt says, his voice low and rough with lust. He strokes Blaine’s cock a few times, rubbing his thumb along a vein before leaning down and licking up it.

“Kurt—” Blaine groans, his hips bucking up.

Kurt nods briefly before taking Blaine in his mouth once more, hands firmly placed on his hips to keep him motionless. Kurt knows he won’t last long, can read Blaine’s body better than his own now, and he brings a hand down against his own cock at the thought that he can do this to Blaine.

Blaine gasps when Kurt moves his hand away from his hips to cup his balls, squeezing them while he keeps sucking Blaine hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. Blaine grabs Kurt’s hair and pulls roughly when he feels his entire body tensing up. Kurt understands the message and moves off him, replacing his mouth with his hand and moving it fast and rough, to the same rhythm he’s using on himself.

Blaine lets out a loud moan when he comes, his eyes squinting shut and his body tensing. Kurt slows down his strokes, driving Blaine crazy as he rides his orgasm, relishing the way Blaine gasps his name brokenly before falling back against the mattress.

Kurt looks at him with a smile, stroking his side softly as he waits for Blaine to gather his bearings. When he opens his eyes, his face breaks into a grin and he looks at Kurt fondly.

“Hi,” Kurt says and then laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your post-coitus face, Anderson.”

Blaine smiles goofily and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow and humming when Kurt strokes his thigh. Reaching forward blindly, he wraps his hand around Kurt’s shoulder and pulls him forward, wrapping his arms around his thin frame. Kurt settles against him and sighs happily, nestling closer. He gasps when his cock brushes against Blaine’s hip.

“Want a hand with that?” Blaine whispers and strokes Kurt with his knuckles. Kurt gasps again and bucks forward, pressing his face against Blaine’s chest. “What do you want?”

Kurt bites his lip before looking up. He knows what he wants, but—oh, what the hell. It’s that kind of day, apparently.

“I want to come on your face.” Kurt keeps his eyes on Blaine’s face, studying it for signs that he’s gone too far with his request and that he threw off the delicate balance they have.

Blaine’s eyes widen and his lips part and before Kurt can start to panic, he’s nodding eagerly and pulling Kurt closer. Trembling at the mere thought of it, Kurt swings a leg over Blaine’s chest and straddles it, shuddering when Blaine starts stroking up and down his thighs.

Feeling slightly self-conscious under Blaine’s unwavering stare, Kurt starts jerking off, his hips rocking forward as his eyes close. He throws his head back and speeds up the strokes when Blaine drags his fingernails down the back of Kurt’s thighs. Kurt’s hips rock forward, fucking reflexively into the tight circle of his fist and he lets out choked noises that he can’t hold back.

Blaine is talking to him but all Kurt can hear is white noise as blood rushes in his ears. He forces his eyes open when he feels he’s close and he lets out a growl when he sees Blaine’s eyes, his pupils blown and his eyes wide and hungry as he watches Kurt. With another growl, Kurt comes, his breath catching in his chest as he watches streak after streak fall on Blaine’s face, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

With a loud gasp, Kurt shakily climbs off Blaine.

“Oh my god,” Blaine lets out in a white voice.

“Yeah,” Kurt says, laughing breathlessly.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Kurt smirks when Blaine pokes his side. “I love you, too.”

“I’m not getting used to this anytime soon,” Blaine says and Kurt doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling, he can hear it in his voice.

Kurt yawns as he nods, curling on his side and pulling Blaine closer. When Blaine tries to nuzzle his cheek, he pushes him away with a disgusted noise. “You still have jizz on your face.”

“Jizz? Seriously?”

“Hey, humour me, I haven’t slept in more than a day,” Kurt snaps, yawning again.

“Then go to sleep. I’ll wake you up later,” Blaine replies softly, stroking Kurt’s sweat-soaked hair.

“For more sex?” Kurt asks, already feeling himself slip away.

“Duh.”

Kurt smiles and settles against his pillows. He wants to protest when he feels Blaine get off the bed but his limbs have turned into lead. The last thing he’s conscious of is Blaine’s hand stroking up and down his spine and then he’s gone.

He wakes up to the smell of pancakes filling the apartment. With a groggy smile, Kurt pulls the pillow closer to him and hugs it, burying his face in the fabric and smiling when he smells Blaine all over it. Rolling on his back, he stretches and yawns before getting out of bed. Fumbling through his closet for his robe, he eventually gives up and puts on a pair of Blaine’s boxers and a plain shirt before slowly making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, there,” Blaine says. He’s wearing Kurt’s robe and it hangs from his slightly less broad shoulders in a very adorable way. Grinning, he carries the plate of pancakes to the table, where he’s already placed maple syrup, strawberries and cream, as well as two steaming cups of coffee. “I was about to wake you up for breakfast.”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Kurt comments as he sits at the table after lighting a cigarette and fetching an ashtray from the kitchen counter.

“So? It’s always the right time for pancakes.”

“This is mine,” Kurt says, pointing to the robe.

Blaine shrugs, smiling sheepishly as he covers his stack of pancakes with butter and way too much maple syrup. “It smelled like you when you were gone. And I’ve grown fond of it.”

“My pillow smelled like you. Did you sleep here?”

Blaine looks up from his plate and Kurt gives him a small smile. “Some days, yeah. I hope you don’t mind?”

Kurt shakes his head and takes a sip of coffee, closing his eyes and sighing in appreciation. When he reopens them, he sees Blaine pouring a spoonful of sugar in his coffee.

“How are you not fat?” Kurt asks in disbelief. “I mean, smoking keeps me skinny, but you—how?!”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, his mouth filled with pancakes. He swallows before continuing. “I train a bit? I always run, no matter where I go? I don’t know. But now that you mention it—when will you quit smoking?”

Kurt groans and throws his head back to look at the ceiling. “Not again.”

“Yes, again.” Blaine is looking completely serious and it’s such a foreign look on Blaine’s face that Kurt stays silent to listen to what he has to say. “I am not sitting by your bedside as you die of lung cancer.”

“I will not die of lung cancer, Blaine. You’re being such a drama queen right now.”

“Okay, look. I’m not saying anything about all the other shit I know you do at parties, but this—this is something regular and it’s worse. And don’t give me that look, Kurt, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t make me say it.”

Kurt raises his eyebrow. “Why? Because saying I’ve done coke will break the perfect image you have of me?”

Blaine winces. “How you can be so casual about this is beyond me.”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t anymore, okay? And it was only once or twice. Nothing to freak out about. I’ve done E more often.”

Blaine sighs and throws his hands in the air. “Okay, you know what? I’m not saying anything about this because I’m focusing on the smoking.”

“Look, I don’t do hard drugs anymore, okay? Not since—” Kurt bites his lip and puts out his cigarette. Oh, why not. “Not since I met you.”

Blaine gives him a small smile and a shrug. “I just hate knowing you keep poisoning yourself.”

“I want to stop. It’s just—it’s really hard. But, hum. I think you could be a good enough motivation to stop,” Kurt says slowly, not looking at Blaine.

Blaine reaches across the table and takes his hand, squeezing it briefly. “I’ll even let you be a fucking bitch to me as you get through the withdrawal.”

“Aw, this means so much to me,” Kurt coos sarcastically, putting a hand on his heart. “But thank you. I appreciate it.”

As they keep eating, Kurt takes a moment to look around. With the cold winter light pouring into the room from the kitchen window, the scene looks like it was taken straight out of a home decoration magazine and bitch, please, his kitchen is better than those model ones at Ikea. And then there’s Blaine, eating hungrily and looking more relaxed than Kurt has ever seen him.

This is what he wants every day. He wants to wake up with his bed smelling like Blaine, wants to forget whose clothes he’s putting on to make his way to the kitchen where he’ll find his boyfriend cooking them breakfast or eating a bowl of cereal while watching Saturday morning cartoons.

He wants the domesticity he always sworn he’d never get trapped in. The very thing that makes him feel trapped every time he visits Finn and Rachel now seems so appealing. Kurt reaches across the table to take Blaine’s hand in his and the other man looks up from his plate to give him a bright smile.

“When you come back from LA, I think you should move in,” Kurt says calmly, ignoring the thumping of his heart in his ears.

Blaine’s breath hitches and he stares at Kurt for a few seconds. “Are you serious?”

Kurt nods, pressing his lips together and squeezing Blaine’s hand. “Do you want to?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Kurt grins until his cheeks hurt and Blaine mirrors it before getting up and circling the table. Stopping in front of Kurt, he cups his face in his hands and kisses him. Kurt keeps on smiling, humming when he tastes sugar and coffee on Blaine’s tongue.

When Blaine straightens up, Kurt follows him and with a silent agreement, they move to Kurt’s room, losing their clothes on the way there and falling to the mattress in a mess of limbs and slow, sweet kisses and strokes. This time, they take it slow, touching and enjoying every breath and shiver. They stare into the other’s eyes the whole time, clinging like they need something to anchor them.

By the time Blaine has to get ready to go to the airport, Kurt’s entire body is sore. He feels drained and exhausted but in the best way possible.

“I can’t believe you didn’t pack before now,” Kurt says around a yawn. He’s sprawled on his bed, wrapped in his robe that now smells like Blaine, and he watches his boyfriend run around the room with an amused smirk.

“I did! I have a suitcase right there!” He points to the corner of the room and Kurt rolls his eyes when he sees the suitcase in question is open and half-empty. “Do you really mind if I end up with some of your clothes? I’m really fucking late.”

Kurt hums and yawns again, sitting up against the pillows so he doesn’t fall asleep. Despite his best efforts, he can feel his eyes closing on their own and he’s about to give in when he hears the click of a camera.

“What the fuck?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and then glaring at Blaine.

“You looked too gorgeous. I needed—I’ll have something to look at until I come back.”

Kurt awes and smiles sadly. He gets on his knees and crawls across the bed until he’s at the edge. Blaine steps closer to it and lets Kurt wrap him in a tight hug, his arms going around Blaine’s waist and his head resting on his chest. Blaine closes his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and kisses his hair, still damp from the shower they shared. They stay like that for a long time, until Blaine lets out a long sigh and steps back.

“I need to call a cab.”

“Finish packing, I’ll call it for you.”

Kurt leaves his room – soon, their room – and searches for his phone. As he waits for the taxi central to pick up, he wraps his free arm around himself and starts gnawing on his bottom lip. In the thirty-one hours they spent together, their relationship has progressed more than in the past six months. He should feel scared but he’s not. It might be foolish, but he has a strange kind of conviction that they’re going to last, that this time it’s for real and forever. Biting back a smile, he turns his back to his room so Blaine doesn’t seem him acting like a schoolgirl.

Ten minutes later, Kurt has pulled on the first clothes he could find and tightly wrapped himself in his coat and favourite scarf to accompany Blaine to his cab. He watches, his hands buried deep in his pockets, as Blaine loads his suitcase in the trunk of the car before walking back to him.

There’s a light snow falling and it glistens in the yellow light of the streetlamps. The grey and brown scenery of the past week is slowly being covered in a new layer of white as if to remind them that February is still very much a winter month. Kurt finds himself wishing for a storm, one that would trap the entire city indoors and make roads impracticable, but then he thinks that it might trap Blaine in Los Angeles, and that anyway a snow storm wouldn’t be nice at all without Blaine to cuddle with. He gives a sad sigh just as Blaine reaches him and pulls him into a hug.

“It’s only two weeks,” Blaine whispers.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt can’t help but smirk at how cheesy their conversation is.

Blaine brings a gloved hand to his cheek and inches his head down before pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips. Kurt kisses him back and Blaine steps closer, his frozen nose pressing against Kurt’s equally frozen cheek.

“Go,” Kurt says, stepping away. “Or you’ll never leave.”

Blaine nods and hesitates for a second before dashing in for one last kiss and then getting in the cab. Kurt stays outside until he can’t see the car anymore.

He’s officially completely and utterly dependent of Blaine and honestly, he doesn’t mind.

The next months are a rush of contracts and boxes – so many boxes, seriously, Blaine is probably a hoarder in the making – and before Kurt can stop and think about it, summer has arrived and with it, Rachel and Finn visiting for a few days.

“I’m going now!” Kurt calls through the apartment, his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

Kurt smiles as he hears Blaine’s running footsteps. He stops in front of Kurt and gives him a worried look. “Are you bringing them over afterwards?”

“Maybe?” Kurt squints, trying to read Blaine’s expression. He looks worried. “Would that be a problem?”

“No, no, it’s just—they’re your family. It’s—your family. You know?”

“You’ve met them before.”

“I know, but I wasn’t—I didn’t meet them as your boyfriend. You know.” Blaine waves his hand dismissively but Kurt knows better.

“They’re going to love you,” Kurt says softly, lifting Blaine’s chin with his hand to kiss him. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t invite them over. It’s no big deal. Once they start feeling tired, around nine probably because they’re already old, I’ll come back and we can watch a movie, okay? Or we can go out. We haven’t gone out in a while.”

“You can invite them. You’re right. And I mean, Rachel already loves me, doesn’t she?”

Kurt chuckles. “You never know with Rachel. But alright. I’ll see you later, then!”

With one last kiss, Kurt leaves the apartment and once he’s outside the building, decides to walk instead of taking a cab. The weather is gorgeous and there’s a spring to his steps he can’t quite explain. He almost craves for a cigarette but he is not having a fight over this again with Blaine.

He reaches the restaurant they’re meeting at half an hour later, making him fashionably late. Smirking at his own perfect timing, he steps in and starts looking around. He locates Finn quickly standing awkwardly by a potted plant.

“Hey, Kurt!” Finn says cheerfully.

“Hey!” Kurt greets him, pulling him into a hug. “It’s been so long, oh my god.” Finn pats his back quickly before getting out of the hug and looking around nervously. “Where’s Rachel?”

“She was feeling sick so she stayed at the hotel. This—hum. This is a fancy restaurant.”

“I know, right? It’s one of my favourite. You have got to try their bread sticks. They don’t compare to those from Breadstix in Lima, not in a million years.”

Finn is quiet for a few seconds. “Can we go somewhere else?”

Kurt frowns at him and crosses his arms over his chest just as a waiter comes to tell them their table is ready. “No, we can’t. Come on.”

Finn lets out a groan and follows Kurt through the restaurant. Kurt waits for the waiter to be gone before he leans across the table.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he hisses.

“People are going to think we’re on a date, dude,” Finn whispers back, glancing around.

“Seriously? Oh my god, stop being so provincial and grow up, Finn. Who cares what people assume.” Kurt leans back in his chair and sighs. He is so through with this conversation.

“Alright, I get it, you’re a New Yorker now so that makes you Mr. Cool but stop being so—huh.”

“Condescending?” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a Midwesterner and maybe I’ll consider it.” With that, Kurt raises his menu and hides behind it.

“You’re one, too. Don’t forget it,” Finn mumbles.

“Was I ever? Really? When did I fit in in Ohio? Be honest,” he asks, lowering the menu to look at Finn.

Finn opens his mouth and then closes it a few times before letting his shoulders slump. “Whatever. What’s your advice?” he asks, flattening the menu on the table so Kurt can look at it.

Finn’s mood gets considerably better as Kurt describe him his favourite meals and he seems to have forgotten that he was uncomfortable in the first place.

“We should get wine, too,” Kurt says after they’ve made their choice. “Want to split a bottle?”

“Huh. I’d rather have a beer.”

“Finn. We’re in an Italian restaurant. You are not drinking beer. We’re splitting a bottle of Chardonnay whether you like it or not.”

“No, seriously, beer will be fine.”

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong this time?” Kurt snaps, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, sharing wine... that’s a bit—”

“If you’re about to say gay, I swear to god I will kill you. Do you want me to put a disclaimer on our table? ‘Hey everyone! We’re actually brothers!’?” Kurt says, loud enough to cause the few tables around them to glance their way. “Happy? Now our neighbours know. You can relax and fucking drink wine.”

Finn groans and rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest anymore. It stays tense until they get their food and Finn literally moans with delight at his first bite.

“Told you we had to stay here,” Kurt gloats, smirking. He takes a sip of his glass and smiles. “So, how’s everyone? Catch me up on all the juicy gossip.”

“Well, huh. Santana is back in Lima. We don’t know for how long but she’s staying with Puckerman and Quinn. They all seem pretty upset about it.”

“Mm,” Kurt says. “I bet Santana broke up with her girlfriend and was kicked out of their apartment in San Francisco. Continue.”

“Yeah, that’s our guess too except she won’t tell. Quinn is passing the—huh. What’s it called?”

“The bar?”

“Yeah. Next month. Puck won’t shut up at the garage about how proud of her accomplishments he is. You think he’s taunting me because of Rachel’s failure?”

Kurt winces at his brother’s lack of tact and at how he always takes everything personally. “I don’t know. I don’t honestly care. Go on.”

“Well, nothing else, really. Apparently Brittany is pregnant but we don’t know for sure, the only person who still talks to her frequently is Santana and she gets mad when we say her name. Have you seen her?”

“New York is a big city, Finn.”

“Oh, yeah. She didn’t try to contact you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t think she has my number. What about Artie and Mercedes?” Kurt is slowly realising this conversation was a bad idea. He’s feeling nostalgic, all of a sudden.

“Mercedes is helping Rachel with voice lessons, she came over for dinner the other night with Mike and Tina. You wouldn’t recognise the twins, oh my god, they’ve grown so much. Artie’s still teaching Geometry at McKinley. Speaking of which,” Finn takes a sip of wine, “Rachel took over the glee club.”

“Really? Now that’s good news!”

“Yeah, since Mr. Schue left it was worse than when Sandy was in charge. She called them New Directions again and, well, since she started last Spring, she couldn’t do much, but she’ll try to get them to Nationals next year.”

“That’s amazing,” Kurt says, smiling earnestly.

“Yeah, she’s really getting into it. She’s working on this montage of all our best performances to show the kids what she can do, it’s pretty awesome.”

“You have to send me a copy of that,” Kurt says in a breath, his heart clenching painfully. “I’m so happy to hear that everyone’s doing great. What about you, Finn?”

Finn shrugs. “Nothing, really. It’s going great at the shop with your dad, and Rachel’s pregnant again, but other than that—”

“Wait, what?” Kurt exclaims, leaning forward abruptly. “Are you serious?!”

“Yeah. We found out right before leaving. It’s pretty cool.” Finn is grinning, fully conscious of the effect his statement had on Kurt.

“It’s more than cool, Finn!”

Kurt gets up and rounds the table to hug Finn briefly. Finn stiffens but lets him do it. He chuckles nervously when Kurt sits back down.

“What about you?” he asks after clearing his throat.

Kurt shrugs. “Lots of contracts, very little sleep, the usual.”

Finn smirks. “Still single?”

Kurt licks his lips and looks at Finn coyly. “No?”

It’s Finn’s turn to express his surprise loudly, his eyes the size of saucers. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. It’s, well, you’ve met him before. It’s Blaine.”

“Isn’t that the guy you hooked up with last year?”

“Why don’t you say it louder?” Kurt snaps, glaring at Finn. Finn apologises and Kurt rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy.” Kurt laughs nervously. “We’ve been together for a while now. We live together, actually.”

“And you’re only telling me now?”

Kurt shrugs. “I didn’t want to jinx it.”

Finn’s smile is wide dopey grin that Kurt finds so endearing before reaching for his glass. “To my little brother, who’s finally settling down.”

“Fuck you, I’m older,” Kurt snaps, nonetheless clinking his glass against Finn’s.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still my little brother.”

“Just for that, I’m going to tell you that our sex life is mind-blowing. Just earlier, before I left to meet you, he gave me a—”

Finn goes pale and puts his fingers in his ears, shaking his head wildly. “I’m going to throw up if you finish that sentence. I’m serious.”

Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes fondly, kicking Finn’s shin under the table for good measure. The conversation flows easily; they tease and get snarky with each other because they know it won’t hurt and Kurt feels his heart swell when he stops to think that Finn has only been his brother for less than a decade and they get along like they grew up together. Kurt would tell Finn he loves him if he didn’t know that would send Finn running out of the restaurant in a panic attack. Everything in its right time, and one day the right moment will come when Kurt will be able to tell Finn how much their relationship means to him.

“I’m glad our parents married,” Kurt says instead, smiling fondly at Finn.

Finn returns the smile and nods. “Me too. You’re awesome, bro.”

Kurt’s smile turns into a frown. “‘Bro’ is not becoming a thing, Finn.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Do you honestly see me saying ‘bro’ without irony? What next, fist-bumps?” Kurt deadpans, quirking his eyebrow.

“Totally,” Finn replies, extending his closed fist over the table for Kurt to bump it. “C’mon, dude, don’t leave me hanging.”

Glaring at Finn and trying as hard as he can to let it show he’s judging him, Kurt bumps his fist against Finn’s.

“This is so becoming a thing, bro.”

Kurt groans in exasperation and rolls his eyes. Maybe love was a strong word. Maybe ‘appreciation’ is more suited. ‘Tolerance,’ even.

It’s only while they’re in Central Park that Blaine is brought up again. They shared a dessert after their main course, even though Finn once again had a semi-freak out and Kurt purposely decided to ignore his reaction to avoid ruining his evening.

“I think I might end up marrying him,” Kurt says softly, looking up at Finn. They’re sitting on a bench and enjoying how comfortable the silence is between them. “Blaine, I mean. It’s only been, what, around a year, since we stopped shouting abuse at each other, but I really think he’s the one.”

“It’s scary, huh,” Finn whispers as he stares up at the sky. He turns his head to glance at Kurt.

“God, yes,” Kurt breathes out and chuckles. Admitting it out loud already feels like some of the pressure in his chest is being taken off. “Were you that scared at first, with Rachel?”

“I still am, dude. Not all the time, but just. Sometimes she gets that sort of—distant look in her eyes and I know—well I guess she’s thinking about New York and what she left behind. And I get scared she’ll run away, come back here and start again. But then she’ll look at me and smile this bright smile that makes her eyes sparkle and—”

“And you know she’s not going anywhere? Blaine does that. We’ll fight about something – and we fight all the time – but then half an hour later he’ll sit next to me and look at me like—like someone took away the greatest thing he ever had and he needs it back to breathe. And I just. I’m so scared I’ll fuck everything up with him, Finn. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”

Finn snorts. “I feel the same with Rachel.”

They both sigh in synch and that makes them laugh.

“I better be your best man,” Finn says after a while. He leans to the side to bump his shoulder against Kurt’s.

“Of course,” Kurt answers and he suddenly can’t stop grinning.

“Now you just need to introduce him to Burt.”

Kurt groans and slumps his shoulders, his smile fading. “I’m not looking forward to that. But you know what? I think they’d get along too well. It would be terrifying.”

“You should see Rachel and Carole. But yeah, come home for Thanksgiving and bring Blaine along. It’d be cool. We miss you every year. And at Christmas. The family’s not complete when you’re not there, dude.”

Kurt smiles sadly at his brother. “I needed to—to come to terms with some things, first. Lima is such a bad place for me, Finn. Nothing good ever came out of Lima for me.”

“Isn’t Blaine from Lima?” Finn squints. “He said something like that last year when he—”

“Westerville. He’s from Westerville.”

“See? Good things come out of Ohio. Will you at least think about it? It would make Burt really happy.”

Kurt glares at the ground. Finn is playing unfair, mentioning Burt and reminding Kurt how much he must hurt his father by basically being MIA. “I’ll consider it,” he finally concedes. “I’ll have to talk to Blaine about it, first.”

They end up going to Lima, after Blaine had a quasi-breakdown and forced Kurt to kiss him until he shut up. As Kurt had predicted, Blaine and Burt get along right away and within two hours, they’re teaming up to tease Kurt on his odd quirks.

“Hey.” Burt pats Kurt’s shoulder as he sits next to him in the living room. Blaine is helping Rachel and Carole with the dishes and Finn is putting his daughter to bed. The entire house is warm and it feels cosy and like home, something it hadn’t in a very long time. Kurt pulls his legs up on the couch and curls up on himself like he did so many times when he was still in high school and it felt like he wasn’t going to be able to go through another day.

“Hey,” Kurt replies.

“You happy?” Burt asks and Kurt smiles at his father’s lack of diplomacy. When Kurt takes a few seconds to answer, Burt keeps talking. “Carole had me buy that magazine you were on the cover of, last month. I had to explain to the guy at the cash that you were my son. Do you imagine your dad buying a fashion magazine on his own?”

Kurt giggles. “I would have loved to see this.” When he looks up from the floor, Burt is staring at him. “Yes, dad, I’m happy.” He purses his lips. “Happier than I used to be, at least. It’s a fu—it’s a crazy job and sometimes it takes its toll, you know?”

“You really want to hear my opinion again on your career choice?” Burt says and there’s roughness to his tone.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Kurt whispers cautiously. “I quit smoking, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. When Blaine moved in, he made it clear he didn’t want to smell like an ashtray and he helped me through the withdrawal. I mean, I wanted to stop, but I could never get through more than a week or two. I still get cravings, sometimes, but it’s getting better. He helps a lot.”

“He helps with more than that, I think.”

Kurt rests his chin on his knees and smiles. “Yes,” he says softly. “He helps with a lot of things.”

“I wish you’d met him in high school.” Kurt looks at him. “I wouldn’t have worried so much about you. About what I might find when I got home.”

“You know very well you’d still have worried about me, Dad. It’s your job to worry about me,” Kurt says and he really, really needs to lighten the mood because his eyes have started to prick.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Burt pats his shin before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking loudly if there’s still dessert and laughing when Carole lectures him on cholesterol and diabetes.

Kurt watches him leave, biting his lip. He almost corrected his father and told him he was only visiting, but he realised Burt meant more than just Kurt being back in Lima. He meant Kurt being back. The Kurt that was scared away by bullying and violence, by dumpsters and slushies and stolen kisses, the Kurt who would have needed someone by his side but who kept pushing everyone away; that Kurt is back. He’s not hiding anymore and Kurt feels liberated.

And it’s all thanks to Blaine. He came into Kurt’s life and threw down the walls he’d built for protection. He chased Kurt out of his hiding spots, disarmed his defences and he’s slowly helping Kurt build himself back up, open but stronger. All of it with touches and smiles and ‘I love you’s’, and it’s all Kurt needed. It’s so simple but it took him so long to realise that in order to find himself, he needed to rediscover who he is through the eyes of someone else. He needed to learn to love himself through the love someone had for him.

He’s sure of it, now: he’s going to marry Blaine. He doesn’t know when – they still have so many issues to work through, like how they apparently can’t go two days without arguing – but he will. Smiling to himself, Kurt gets up and joins the rest of his family in the kitchen to help Carole in her lecture about his father’s health. He catches Blaine’s eyes as he enters the room and the other man smiles at him brightly and winks.

“How do you like my family, Blaine?” Kurt asks over the argument now involving Rachel.

“They’re nice,” Blaine answers with a laugh.

“Well, you better, because this isn’t the last time you see them.”

“Is that a promise?” Blaine asks, quirking his eyebrow. He’s smirking.

“Watch me,” Kurt answers haughtily.

“Always.”