He feels silly about his last letter. Courage. What had he been thinking?

Kurt is waiting on the porch when Blaine pulls up. Blaine is barely out of his car before Kurt wraps him into a fierce hug.

When he pulls away, his hands linger at Kurt’s sides. He takes a moment to really look at Kurt. His face has thinned out considerably, and he seems to have shot up at least another inch or two. If Blaine were to kiss him, he would have to tip up on his toes a little to connect their lips.

If Blaine were to kiss him. The prospect seems unnerving now.

“I’ve missed you,” Kurt says quietly. His eyes are searching. “You have freckles.”

“You’re tall,” Blaine blurts out.

Kurt tugs him back in for another hug. Blaine never wants him to let go. He could stay like this forever, lingering in the open door of his car, wrapped up in Kurt’s arms. It’s unbearably hot outside, but he can’t seem to pull out of the embrace.

“No, B. You’re just short.”

-

Kurt spends most of the afternoon catching Blaine up on all of the pop culture he missed during his time away from civilization. Blaine misses most of what he says, because he’s too busy watching the way Kurt’s lips quirk up at certain words, how he gestures with his hands. He’s been trying to remember Kurt’s mannerisms when reading back over his words over the past two months, but nothing compares to seeing it before his eyes.

“Are you even listening to me, Blaine?” Kurt asks.

Blaine thinks about it for a minute. He could lie, string together what little he’s heard and parrot it back in hopes that Kurt will buy it. But instead -

“No,” he smiles. “Not even a little.”

Kurt glares.

Blaine cups Kurt’s cheek with one hand and presses their lips together. It’s soft and hesitant, and mostly dry. It’s not the parting of lips Blaine has seen in countless films. It’s a gentle pressure, it’s Kurt’s soft sound of surprise.

“I think I could get used to you not listening to me.”

-

There are a lot of kisses after that. Kisses that taste like popsicles and kisses under stars. They have no idea what they’re doing, and they’ve both admitted it, so they’re taking it slow.

They’re making out lazily on Kurt’s bed. Each teasing nip of Blaine’s lips or dip of Kurt’s tongue has Blaine’s jeans feeling a little more uncomfortable. Kurt’s hand smooths downward, palming the sweat-damp fabric at the small of his back. His fingertips graze the skin right above his jeans, where his shirt has ridden up. Blaine’s hips jerk forward of their own volition. He stiffens immediately and pulls away, but Blaine is surprised to find Kurt’s expression to be more curious than terrified.

Kurt is hard too.

“I - um, I’m... sorry,” he chokes out. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt soothes him easily, trailing kisses from the corner of Blaine’s mouth to his sweaty brow. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says in a small voice. He tells Kurt this all of the time, and Kurt always makes him feel better.

“Me either,” Kurt whispers back. “But I want to figure it out with you.”

-

When Blaine isn’t working at King’s Island - which has turned out to be more of a concessions job than a performing one - he’s at the Hummel’s.

The nature of their relationship is something they’ve decided to keep to themselves for the time being. They’re not exactly sure what it is. They’re best friends and they love each other, but there is no telling if what they feel right now will be swept away with the fall breeze. He’s pretty sure it won’t, but the fear still remains.

It’s getting late, and they’re laying on a blanket in Kurt’s backyard.

“Are we boyfriends?” Blaine can still remember when he asked the question the first time, the confusion that followed Kurt’s dismissive answer.

“I’d like us to be,” Kurt smiles. “I think you’d be a good boyfriend.”

“I don’t know about that,” Blaine ducks his head, hoping the darkening sky will help mask the blush covering his cheeks. “I might be terrible.”

“Doubt that.” Kurt tangles their fingers together. “You’re the kindest person I know, Blaine. I love that about you.”

It’s official. The words are out in the open. This isn’t something they can keep to themselves anymore.

-

When they tell Burt, he’s hardly surprised.

“I thought you kids were dating last year, but Kurt kept telling me that I was wrong,” Burt shrugs. “So I pretty much narrowed it down to when you got back from camp, Blaine.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Kurt asks. “I thought we were being subtle.”

“Subtlety’s never been your thing, Kurt,” Burt chuckles. “And yeah, I guess I could’a, but you two always keep the doors open and make your curfews. Anything I would have said, you two were already respecting.”

Blaine is still nervous, but he feels considerably better about the situation. They hadn’t really been keeping anything from Burt, because Burt had already known. He’s not used to things working out in his favor.

“Do we still have to keep the door open?” Kurt says, testing the waters. Blaine almost steps on his foot.

“Do I even have to answer that?”

Kurt shrugs and grabs Blaine’s hand, leading him back down to his basement bedroom.

“That’s the good part about the basement,” Kurt whispers, mischief dancing in his eyes. “We have twenty steps until we’re in full view, so there’s plenty of time to look presentable.”