MONDAY, DECEMBER 31

KURT

With my wrapped present to Blaine in hand – along with a handful of ingredients that I knew he didn't have – I approached my boyfriend's apartment building at 6:59 exactly.

But I didn't even have to use the buzzer; soon Blaine's form emerged from inside the glass door with his beautiful smile in tact. I couldn't help but smirk in return because I knew that smile – the one where he just looked dazzled and how it encompassed every crease at the side of his eyes – was the one I only saw when it was just the two of us. In my mind I had started to call is the Kurt Signature Smile, but I later figured out that it was Blaine's Love Smile.

I smiled harder at the notion that Blaine and I were to that point in our relationship now; the "I love you" phase. I hadn't been here before. With William, we hadn't really delved into feelings – at least we hadn't truly spoken about them – but instead progressed into the more... physical aspects of our relationship. In retrospect, it was a glaring red flag and something that – thankfully – didn't seem to be repeating itself with Blaine and I.

Even though I hadn't been sure where we stood after the whole Parents Debacle, yesterday had changed everything. After we parted ways at the diner – I had to work that night – it was as if I was walking on cloud 9. Mercedes kept making fun of my "weird glitter constipated look" on my face when she and I had Skyped earlier this morning, but I didn't care.

Blaine and I loved each other. Werein lovewith each other. And nothing else mattered.

Last night, I had called Blaine and we shared a short conversation and even more I love yous, content to say the words as often as possible because they felt so fresh and honest on our lips. The last thing I remembered last night was Blaine's "I love you too" from his end of the phone and a smile on my face as I drifted off to sleep.

"Hey you," Blaine said as he approached. "I love you."

I giggled. "You really like saying that, don't you?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. I'm just glad I can say what I've felt for a while. It's... nice."

I grinned. "It is nice – I know what you mean. You ready for dinner?"

"Of course. Please, let me lead the way."

I fell in step behind him as he took my hand and led me toward the door, his key in hand. I tugged on him for one second to pull him to a stop. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes full of questions.

I smiled. "I love you too."

...

"Just make sure that the tater tots are spread evenly over the top of the casserole and then you can stick it into the oven," I said as I opened the oven door to be sure that the blast of heat was still in tact.

"Okay," he responded as he organized the heap of tater tots that he had spilled into a giant pile at the middle of the casserole into a neat, orderly placement on top of the dish. "This sounds good but kind of weird, Kurt."

"I know, it has some weird ingredients all together, but it's something that my dad used to make when it was cold when I was a kid. Considering it's supposed to drop below freezing tonight, I figured it was a good option. Plus it's hearty, so if we decide to drink tonight it'll help absorb the alcohol," I replied.

I had made my dad's infamous – infamous only because it was the one thing he knew how to make when I was a kid – hamburger casserole recipe. It's like green bean casserole but with hamburger at the bottom and topped with tater tops instead of crunchy fried onions. It was simple and not entirely healthy, but it was good and served its purpose on a night like tonight. Something like soup just wasn't going to cut it.

Blaine had been an excellent sous chef, not that the recipe was hard to make. His apparent inability to make food wasn't evident tonight and it gave me hope that one day he might make himself something other than the pasta he seemed to inhale every night when we talked on the phone before a show.

Once Blaine felt that the tots had been adequately distributed, he popped the dish in the oven and wiped his hands on his pants – something I would never do – and looked at me expectantly. "Now what?" he asked.

"Now we wait. It'll be about 30 minutes at 350. Can you manage to wait that long?"

He groaned. "I guess. I didn't realize how hungry I was until you got here."

"Hungry for food or hungry for me?" I joked.

"Both," he replied with a jovial chuckle. I nearly choked on the air with Blaine's answer – I was surprised at his apparent boldness – but it was appreciated, even if he was only kidding that he wanted me likethat. "So what should we do in the meantime? I would say let's watch a movie, but by the time it started to get really good, it would be time to eat and I don't know if I could focus on food, a movie,andyou at the same time."

I rolled my eyes. "Multi-tasking, Blaine. You should become acquainted with that." He laughed. "Why don't we exchange presents?" I asked cautiously.

Inside, I was beyond eager for presents. It wasn't just because I loved getting presents – I mean, who didn't – but I was kind of eager to see if Blaine would like what I had gotten him. It wasn't something that a man would normally own, but I thought once I explained the meaning behind it, he would appreciate the gesture even if the gift seemed a little peculiar.

"Okay, but can I give you yours last?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. I gestured toward Blaine's comfy couch and as he sat down, I pulled Blaine's carefully wrapped present from the bag I'd brought with me. Blaine took the box with a smile and started to unwrap it before I stilled his hands. "I want to explain something first."

"Okay," he agreed as he let the box lay in his lap without remotely trying to unwrap it like I would have.The man had the patience of a saint, I noted as I thought through how I was going to explain this.

"I know that you're really into music, and I am too. In the darkest times of my life, music has been the one thing to ground me and help me express things in ways that I thought my own words couldn't do. When I was jealous of my dad's relationship with my stepbrother in high school, I turned toGypsyto help soothe my jealousy. When I wanted to establish that I was proud of who I was despite the way I was treated by the jerks I went to high school with, I relied on Lady Gaga's "Born This Way."

"But there's one song that has always been something sad for me even though it wasn't meant to be a sad song. My mom and dad were kids in the 60s and grew up loving The Beatles. Beatlemania was rampant in my house as a kid and we would often sing along with our favorites when we would make dinner or when my parents would help me with my homework. My dad was the worst singer, he still is, but he would always sing along with my mom and I. He always called us his beloved songbirds and one time made a horrible joke and called us the Tweetles." Blaine giggled at the horrible name.

"But when my mom got sick, things changed. Songs weren't heard as often and The Beatles all but died in our house. One of the last things I remember of my mom was when my dad and I visited her in the hospital one of the last days that she was alive." I took a deep breath and Blaine's hands that had carefully held the package were soon finding themselves in my own. The warmth and presence of his hands made me feel instantly at ease.

"It was late and I was tired, so I had laid down on the couch that she had in her room. My dad sat with her on her bed – he refused to be anywhere but right next to her whenever we visited her in the hospital – and I could hear them whispering about something. I don't know what it was about, but soon I could hear my dad's voice singing to my mom. He was horribly off tune and his tempo was hardly up to par, but I could hear my mom struggle to fight back tears as he kept singing. It was the last time she heard him sing – she passed away the next morning."

A tear threatened to emerge from my eye, but Blaine smoothed over my cheek and batted it away. He didn't say a word, but his sympathetic look was I needed to tell him more. "When I was in high school, my dad got sick – he had a heart attack and we weren't sure if he was going to come out of it. While I sat in the hospital, I thought back to the last time I had felt this kind of despair and was confronted with that memory of my dad singing to my mom in her hospital bed for the last time. It was their final song and I hadn't heard it since that night because I'm sure it was too painful for my dad to think about and I didn't really want to think about it either.

"But there I was, sitting at his bedside, and all I could do was think of the song he sung to my mom the night before she died. So I did the same thing – I sang that song that had once been the goodbye he'd shared with my mom, but I had hopes that it wouldn't truly be goodbye. Somewhere in my mind I hoped my dad would remember the song and think that his late wife would want him to live and that it was her singing it to him rather than me.

"Thankfully, he did wake up and he's doing fine now, but the song still remained a sad one in my heart. And it's such a beautiful song, Blaine. It should be happy." I hadn't wanted to give away what song it was because that was the whole point of the gift, but I was eager to see if he could comprehend what I was trying to say. Blaine sat quietly as if waiting to see if I had anything else to say. He just rubbed my hands calmly and looked intently at me as I tried to compose myself behind my tear-clouded eyes. "You can open that now," I choked out as I took in a deep breath and calmed myself enough to fully absorb Blaine opening my gift.

He squeezed my hands before pulling them back into his lap and carefully tearing into the wrapping paper. Once the red and green paper had exposed his gift, he smoothed his hands over the wood box that had lay beneath the shiny paper.

As Blaine popped the lid open, he smiled when the box played the song, recognizing it instantly. "This is beautiful," he said as he let the song play out.

It was a hand-carved music box that played The Beatles' "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." The box itself was very simple with only a simple design etched onto the surface of the box. The inside also had no frills, but left enough room to hold jewelry or small papers or little trinkets. The only thing on the inside of the box aside from the mechanics that played the music was the one modification I'd asked the artist for – to include a heart with the letter K on the inside.

"Did you make this?" he asked, pointing to the addition I'd requested on the inside of the box.

I shook my head. "I wish I had that kind of talent. No, I found it on Etsy, but I asked the artist to add that to the inside. I wanted you to remember that I had given it to you."

He rolled his eyes. "As if I would forget that you gave me this box, Kurt. Especially after you shared the story about your parents and your connection with them with this song."

I smiled, but shook my head. "I'm not talking about the box. I'm talking about my heart."

"Oh," he replied quietly. He sat staring at the heart a bit more before looking up at me. "I—I don't know what to say, Kurt. The only thing that seems appropriate and yet not enough is that I love you so much. And I promise I'll take care of it; this box and your heart."

My heart swelled as he surged forward to give me a kiss, the wrapping paper falling unceremoniously onto the floor. My hand reached up to cup his cheek as I savored his kiss and nudged my tongue into his mouth, moaning at the way our tongues danced against each other as the kiss persisted.

Before long the kiss had gotten fiercer and more emotions seemed to be thrown into it as our tongues lashed against each other and our mutual love and longing seeped through our shared connection. I soon found myself fumbling for the box in Blaine's hand as I took it from his grasp and blindly put it on the table while Blaine pushed back against me. Soon my back was on the seat of the couch and Blaine was pressed against me as our mouths kept tune of some silent song as our tongues moved against each other.

I groaned when I felt Blaine against me and he moaned back when he realized that he wasn't alone in his enjoyment of where we had ended up. Our position left room for nothing to be misunderstood; we both liked this –a lot.

After nearly two months of dating and relatively cool make out sessions, this was way hotter than I had ever imagined. And not just because it was making my wildest fantasies come true with Blaine's body covering mine and pushing on top of me shamelessly. I was actually hot since Blaine was like a portable heater lying on top of me.

I started to pull at the buttons of my shirt and Blaine seemed to instantly understand what I was doing as he groped for my shirt once he felt me attempt to open them myself. He had opened two or three buttons when his tongue went missing from my mouth, but soon it was latched onto my neck at the dip of my collarbone. His warm mouth on my neck and the way my chest was exposed from my neck to my sternum mixed wonderfully with my senses.

But that was nothing compared to what happened next. Blaine's mouth moved away from my neck and went on a quest southward, his lips and tongue dragging against my skin as he made his way down toward my sternum. With the way that he shifted to place his mouth against my chest, it caused the slightest bit of rubbingdown thereand it was just what I had been yearning for. The slight bit of pressure below the belt plus Blaine's warmth against me could potentially equal a slightly embarrassing orgasm for me, but I didn't care; it felt way too good to care.

The moan that erupted from my mouth was probably heard from outer space. We hadn't gone this far physically at this point – there had been light kissing just before Christmas and one wandering time with Blaine's lips at my neck – yet Blaine was already attuned to my body. He had found the one spot that made me shudder with want more than anywhere else in the northern hemisphere of my body, and I was beyond thankful that he seemed to know me and my body so well already.

Eager to share the wealth, I started messing with the buttons on Blaine's deep green button up – hoping to expose more of that skin I had fantasized about since I had seen him shirtless only a few weeks ago. I could barely keep my eyes open for more than a second to appreciate Blaine's quickly exposing neckline when the timer from the kitchen buzzed loudly signaling that dinner was ready.

"You've got to be kidding me," I whined as Blaine's nipping and kissing on my chest slowed. I really didn't want this to end – especially before I got to become familiar with Blaine's neck and hopefully the little whimpers he would emit when I attached my lips to it.

Blaine gave one last, wet kiss to my neck before pulling his weight from my chest and leaning on his hands as they flanked either side of my head on the couch. Even though I hadn't gotten to nuzzle his neck, the smile on his face and the slightly wet, reddened lips that he wore seemed to suggest that even though he'd had a good time, he didn't really want it to end either. Plus, there wereother thingstelling me he hadn't quite cooled down yet either. "How about we sit here for a second and then go eat. Besides, I'm still hungry and you still haven't gotten your present."

He sat back on his knees that were in between my splayed out legs and tried to covertly reposition himself before moving to sit Indian-style on the couch. I was pretty sure that my position left nothing to be denied – I was still... excited... from our tumble on the couch – but I was still in too much of a haze to be embarrassed about it or really try to make myself more presentable. If anything, Blaine should be honored that my body had given him such a compliment, so who was I to hide it?

"I think that was a pretty good present," I chided as I slowly started to sit up once the blood went back to the appropriate head.

"Please, I wasn't planning on only giving you kisses as your gift."

"But they do make a good gift," I admitted.

He smiled. "That, they do," he stated as he leaned forward to give me a kiss.

I had finally sat up with my legs still open and Blaine still sitting between them, but I was at least comfortable enough to get up and not cause any attention to anything below the belt. I was still frustrated that a timer had interrupted us, but the smell of the food made my stomach realize that I actually was pretty hungry.

I went to the kitchen to make sure that the food was actually ready and wasn't just trying to cock block Blaine and I but it was bubbling over perfectly, signifying that it was ready. Blaine had grabbed two plates from his cabinets and a pair of forks while I took a spatula out and started serving up the casserole.

"It looks kind of gross," Blaine said as I plopped the somewhat gooey meal onto his plate. He looked intrigued rather than totally grossed out, so I figured he'd at least try it.

"If I eat it, it has to be good. You know how my tastes are," I asserted. It wasn't that I was intentionally snobby; I just knew what was good and avoided what I didn't like. If I liked it, that meant something.

"All right," he said as he took his fork and his plate back to the couch while struggling with two waters in-hand. I sat next to him and watched as he took a hesitant bite before his brows shot up in surprise before taking a larger bite excitedly. "This is really good," he stated between bites and I couldn't help but laugh at his somewhat excited facial expressions.

"I'm glad you like it," I said, taking my own bite of food.

By the time I had eaten four bites, Blaine had practically inhaled all of his. I chuckled. "Gee, you really were skeptical."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. So it was good and I shouldn't have doubted you."

"Get used to saying that – I am right quite a lot, you know."

He smiled fondly. "I know."

"While you finish eating, can I go ahead and set up for your present?" Blaine asked after I had eaten a good portion of my dinner. I shot him a questioning look before nodding yes, not wanting to answer with my mouth full.

He had to set up for my present? What would that even involve?

I mindlessly thought about the assortment of things that Blaine could have done for my Christmas gift without realizing that by the time I had finished eating, Blaine had already set up a stool in the middle of his living room and had cleared out some space on the floor as well.

I sat my plate down and waited expectantly. I had no idea what was going on, but I was thrilled at whatever it could be. Although I certainly didn't understand the reasons behind this whole stool set up.

But soon my questions were answered when Blaine came out with a blue guitar strapped to his front. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him – not that I ever really could in the first place – but I hadn't seen this side of Blaine before. I knew he sang and knew how to play various instruments, but I hadn't witnessed his talent before. I hadn't ever really heard him sing and now I was wondering why. But it didn't matter now; I was going to hear him play guitar and sing and I was already fairly certain that this was going to be one of the best presents I'd ever received.

He plopped down on the stool and scratched his neck nervously. "So, uh, I've never played for just one person before, so this is kind of weird for me."

"It's just me," I replied tentatively, a smile beaming on my face.

"I know, I know. For some reason I can't tell if that's good or bad." I was shocked at his admission, but he soon backtracked. "Not bad in a... it's just, music is the way that I feel like I can talk to people and when I'm in a crowd, it feels like everyone is faceless and I don't really know them. But you – I know you and you know me and it just seems more personal that way. It's good because I want this to be personal and intimate – because it is to me – but it's also kind of terrifying at the same time."

I sat and couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at how wonderful Blaine was. He was patient, kind, charming, attractive – the works. But most of all, he wanted things with me. He wanted to share things with me. I can't believe I was ever so stupid to think that Blaine was anything like William – he was leaps and bounds above any guy I had ever dated before. He was truly fantastic and I was so incredibly lucky to be with him.

"And you said you were bad with words," I replied with a wet smile.

He laughed nervously and strummed aimlessly at the guitar on his chest. "Well, I still think I'm better with the whole music thing. And this is only part of your present. I didn't have time to finish before the holidays, so I hope this will tide you over for the time being."

Soon he was strumming with more purpose and the song sounded familiar, though I couldn't place it. But once he started singing, I was in awe.

Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around
No one's gonna hurt you, not while I'm around.
Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,
I'll send 'em howling,
I got ways.

No one's gonna hurt you,
No one's gonna dare.
Others can desert you,
Not to worry,
Whistle, I'll be there.

Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while
But in time,
Nothing can harm you
Not while I'm around.

He had taken the song from one of my favorite musicals and remixed it for guitar and slowed it down. In the musical the song was sweet but when Blaine sang it, it felt like it had a life all its own that was different from the musical. His voice made it seem like it was some sort of cherished secret between the two of us and I couldn't help but start crying. I felt like I was being overemotional, but I didn't care.

Blaine had given me the perfect gift. Not just the song, but he truly let me know that he cared about me – loved me – and would take care of me. Sure, he hadn't written the song or anything, but I highly doubted that Blaine had just chosen this song on the fly.

I hadn't noticed that Blaine had stopped playing and I could barely see him through the wetness in my eyes, but I could soon feel him close to me as his hand reached out for mine on the couch. I pulled on his hand and pulled him close for a crushing hug. He must have abandoned the guitar since I could wrap my hands around him without an instrument in the way and I was glad; it would have gotten in the way of my hugging him.

He kissed my cheek as a tear streamed down my face. I pulled harder on him and he chuckled softly as he whispered, "I love you," in my ear. I was crying and smiling and laughing and I just felt so much more than I ever had before. Normally, I was a pretty stoic guy, but leave it to one Blaine Anderson to change that completely.

He leaned back to breathe – or something like that – and he swept some hair that had fallen on my forehead back into its position on my head. The simple gesture made me smile (not that I wasn't before, but whatever) and I reached out and brushed my thumb along his cheek, looking intently in his eyes. God, they were gorgeous.

"I love you so much, Blaine. That was... that was incredible."

He shrugged. "It's not anything I've written or anything..."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Don't sell yourself short. That was... beautiful. And you arranged it yourself. That's nothing to sneeze at."

Blaine looked slightly embarrassed by the attention, but he was deserving of it. I could see why he was gifted at what he did – he really knew music and the artistry behind it. He could go toe-to-toe with artists and truly understand their process. I was nothing short of in awe with him.

"You're incredible," I said, leaning forward to lightly kiss Blaine's lips. "I'm so... thank you, Blaine."

I thought I felt another bout of tears as my smile caused my eyes to close slightly, but Blaine's steady hand on my cheek stilled them in their place and he brushed against my cheek with his thumb, clearing away any moisture that had passed. He smiled softly and tucked his hand behind my head and pulled me in for another kiss. The pressure was soft at first, but I couldn't let it stay that way for long. I needed Blaine to know what I felt and words seemed insufficient. He could say it with music – and I suppose I could too – but I needed him to know through my body.

I leaned forward and kissed him back with fervor and soon our kissing became frantic and heated. I found myself once again lying back on Blaine's couch with our tongues linked with slight gasps filling the air as we tentatively slid against each other.

We weren't moving like lovers who knew each other's bodies like the back of their hands. It was a bit hesitant and there were times where our lips didn't quite meet and our collective movements were sloppy, but it didn't seem to hinder us too much.

If we kept things up – pun intended – things were going to get messy.

BLAINE

I don't know how Kurt managed it, but he looked fantastic in everything he wore – including my pants.

His reaction to my song was not what I had expected to say the least. It wasn't even his whole gift! I expected a heartfelt thank you and maybe a make out session on the couch. Instead I got far more than I bargained for – another unintentional gift that found me with a sizeable mark on my lower neck, a matching mark on his chest, and Kurt and I both wearing different pairs of pants. If this was his reaction to just part of his gift, I could only imagine what it would be when he got the real one.

Damn, I was in for a good time.

It was the first time Kurt and I had ever progressed to anything more sexual than just making out, but it had been pretty great. I felt a bit like a teenager rubbing against my adult boyfriend in order to be mutually satisfied, but the glow afterward prevented me - or Kurt - from really caring about appearances all that much.

I had been leery about where I stood with Kurt since our miscommunication in Ohio, but that physical affirmation sealed it for me. I wasn't the most experienced guy – and Kurt wasn't really either according to him, though I was skeptical at that considering how well he could move his hips – so this sharing of ourselves meant something more than just two guys getting off. We were sharing our selves – all of ourselves – heart, body, and mind. It was more than a frantic sexual encounter, even if it seemed like we were getting off like two horny high schoolers. It was love between two guys who were crazy about each other and decided to make the most of their love by showing it with their bodies.

We had managed to clean ourselves up enough to be presentable and ensure that Santana would be none the wiser to what went down in my apartment prior to heading toward the party. We were a bit late but at 10:30, we found ourselves at Brittany and Santana's door.

Kurt and I walked into the party – hand in hand – and took a look around. I recognized a few people from work but the rest of the guests were new to me. I figured they were Brittany's dancer friends with the way that they effortlessly moved around to the music as if it was inherent to them.

Santana and Brittany's apartment was small; roughly the same size as mine on the ground floor, but theirs included a loft that allowed them to have a private bedroom space while still having an area to entertain. They didn't have people over all that often – their schedules didn't allow much of that – but I'd been over plenty of times and appreciated the layout and décor of their apartment.

It was a balance of bold colors with female frilliness; the perfect blend of Santana's brash demeanor and Brittany's softer characteristics. You wouldn't think that an audacious red would pair well with the delicate lacy things that Brittany seemed to prefer, but the two managed the balance flawlessly.

The party was focused in the main floor of their apartment but I could hear some footsteps coming from the loft space above. I silently waved at the few people I knew from work as I stayed by Kurt's side as he took in the surroundings.

"Their apartment is really nice," he mused as his eyes wandered over the group of people dancing on the large red rug nestled between their white couches.

I nodded in agreement before feeling an arm around my shoulders. "It's about time my favorite gays showed up," Santana purred. She was fairly tipsy – not surprisingly – but still managed to keep it together enough to maintain her balance on three-inch heels.

"But you're gay, too," Kurt joked.

"I meant gayboys," she insisted. "Either way, glad you two could peel off each other for long enough to make an appearance. I'm sorry if our little shindig interrupted the hot, gay New Years sex you were having, but we do appreciate seeing your lovely faces." I just laughed as Kurt flushed slightly but his facial expression didn't let anything show. Too bad Santana has a sick third-eye about everything sexual, though. "Oh god, you guys totally did the nasty! It's about time B, you should have been all up on this little hottie from the start."

I rolled my eyes and was about to ask Kurt if he wanted a drink before Santana removed herself from my arm and soon started to pry my boyfriend away from me. "Me and Hummel are going to have a little chat over there," she said, pointing to the bar. "Why don't you go sit on the couch or something."

"But—" Kurt started before turning back to me with a scared face. I sent him a shrug and an apologetic look before heading toward the couch to have a seat. I didn't want to join in on the dancing – I would have looked pathetic in comparison to the dancers in the group – but was fine to sit back and watch for a little while.

I was a pretty extroverted guy, but every once in a while it was nice to sit back and watch the world happen. It was the same reason I found people watching so fascinating; it was thrilling to see how people interacted with the people and things around them.

"Hi B," Brittany said with a deep exhale as she sat on the couch next to me. "Happy New Year!"

I chuckled. "Thanks Brittany. Happy New Year to you as well."

"Did you know it's already the New Year in the Bermuda Triangle?"

"I hadn't thought about it," I replied. She nodded contentedly as she caught her breath. "Are these dancers from your company?" I asked, trying to start a conversation.

"For the most part. Some people are friends of friends, but it seems like everyone here is a dancer. Except for Santana's friends. And Kurt. Although Kurt is my friend, but he just doesn't dance like these guys do."

I smiled. Of course Brittany would consider Kurt a friend – she was friends with almost everyone. But it was nice to know that she had integrated Kurt into her life, even in the smallest way. "And that's why I'm on the couch and not in the crowd. I can sort of dance, but I've got nothing on these guys."

"Oh please, B. You can totally dance. Come on," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me out onto the dance floor.

I hadn't heard this song before – it was some kind of electro-pop sounding song – but it had a decent beat and was something I could dance to without having a Charlie Brown dance sequence on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of their apartment. Brittany had taken hold of my shoulders and I placed my hands around her waist as she swung to the beat. Brittany's body could hold any rhythm and I had no doubt that if I was straight, Brittany would be incredibly appealing with the way she could roll her hips and flowed with such grace. Brittany twirled in my arms as I laughed and tried to hold my own around her.

But as soon as the song changed, Brittany was removed from my grasp by her slightly intoxicated fiancée and my man had taken her place. I smiled as I was met with Kurt's slightly flush face and I couldn't tell if the slightly rosy appearance on his cheeks was due to Santana's line of questioning or if he'd been drinking a bit in her care.

"Hi," he said with a small smile as the slow jam played in the background. He slipped his arms to my waist as I clutched my arms at his shoulders.

"Hi," I replied before softly kissing his lips. "Did you have fun with Santana?"

He laughed. "Sort of. She asked all kinds of questions about your... prowess in bed. I said I had limited information, but that I was not disappointed thus far."

I grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I think in her own way, Santana is really rooting for us. She was the one who talked some sense into me about talking through what happened in Ohio and even though she's really, well, Santana, I'm thankful that we have her around."

I smiled as we swayed and pressed my cheek up against his. "Yeah, she's pretty awesome."

We swayed for a little while longer, just basking in each other's presence, before Kurt broke the silence. "I'm so sorry Blaine."

I pulled back to look at him and was stunned with what I saw. Kurt's eyes were somewhat cloudy with wetness and he sniffled a bit. I reached forward and gently touched his cheek. "What are you sorry for?" I asked with concern.

"I'm sorry that I made you upset and that I didn't listen to you when all of that stuff happened. I was so focused on how angry I felt and with what I was going through that I didn't consider what you might have been thinking."

I looked at him, puzzled. It was gracious for him to offer apologies because those days had truly been hell, but where was this coming from? "It's okay, Kurt. I know you had your reasons and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried at the time, but it all came out okay. But where is this even coming from?"

He sighed. "It's just something Santana said." I eyed him expectantly before he continued. "She said she was glad that I had managed to pull you out of your dark space and that you weren't in the depths of depression anymore. I felt awful knowing that I did that, that if I had just spoken with you about William or even just told you I was visiting that this whole thing wouldn't have happened. I mean, I knew you were down because of how you looked when I met you at The Diner, but I didn't know it was as bad as she said it was."

I shook my head slightly. "Kurt, it really is okay. And yes, I was really upset when everything happened, but more than anything I was just confused. I didn't know what I'd done wrong and I just wasn't sure where we stood any more. Those uncertainties made me feel so unsure about... everything." He choked back a sob, but I just swept my thumb on his cheek. "But it's really water under the bridge. It's all okay now, but next time you want to be mad at me for something, just tell me so I can fix it right away, okay?"

Kurt gave a small chortle before wiping his eyes. "I can agree to that. And really I am so sorry, Blaine. I just... I love you so much and at the time, I was just so hurt and focused on myself. I just need to learn to be a better communicator in order to be a better boyfriend. There are two of us in this relationship and I'm sorry that I was in my own world while I was mad at you. You didn't deserve that and I can do better than that."

I smiled. "Let's have that be one of our New Year Resolutions, shall we? Be better at communicating and be sure that we always show each other how much we love each other."

He chuckled. "Can one of those ways that I show you how I love you involve what happened before we got here?" he asked with an impish grin.

"I will definitely never say no to that," I replied as I leaned forward to give him a kiss.

He reciprocated quickly and we were lost in our kiss for so long, we hadn't realized that the songs had already changed out and everyone else was dancing around us to a different beat, but it didn't matter to us. We stayed in each other's arms and swayed to our own beat and were practically in our own world. As the New Year rang in, we were happily wrapped up in each other and our love and knew that the New Year provided our new, budding love a chance to grow.

And we were both beyond excited to see what was store.