SUNDAY, JANUARY 6

BLAINE

"Come on up," Kurt said through the box as the door buzzed open to my left.

I was a mixture between nervous and excited and hungry. I hadn't seen Kurt in a little while –our busy and mismatched schedules acting as the culprit – but I always loved the time that Kurt and I spent together.

Kurt's building was on a busy block in Chelsea – down the street from a Chinese restaurant and a gay bar – but aside from the honking of the cabs as they passed, it remained relatively quiet. This wasn't too unusual seeing as we weren't in close proximity of any major tourist attractions in the city, but seeing as I hadn't wandered down to this part of the island very often I was glad to see that the neighborhood felt a little like my own.

Rather than a lobby with an elevator at the end of the hall like my apartment, there was a set of stairs just to the right of the entrance wrapped in deep green fabric with dark-stained wood. It was in good shape considering apartments in Manhattan didn't always guarantee the best upkeep, but it was well maintained.

As I huffed my way up to Kurt's floor – instantly understanding Kurt's desire for a personal trainer since I felt sorely out of shape just from going up the stairs – the nerves of the situation set in. Kurt had been to my place plenty of times, but I'd never been to his. I wasn't ever nervous about him being in my space, but I recognized how personal it was to show someone where you lived. You'd constantly be worried about what they thought about the place. Was it clean enough? Were the wall colors too offensive or bright? Were the pictures and paintings on the wall alignedjust so?

The first time Kurt had been to my apartment, I hadn't had time to think through all of those things. A smile snuck onto my face as I thought back to that night Kurt – and Santana – came up for a chat after my date with Kurt. And since then, Kurt had visited a few times.

But I hadn't ever seen his place. And, for some reason, that meant something to me.

After the snafu with the whole Ohio thing, I realized something about my boyfriend. He was a wonderfully poised, attractive, intelligent, determined, and kind individual. But underneath that exterior was a man who was afraid to let people in. He'd been hurt by at least one person in his life, but based on what Santana had said the other day I suspected that it wasn't just one person who had let Kurt down throughout his lifetime.

I knew no one's life was perfect and everyone had pain and struggle, but the thought of Kurt experiencing life being afraid to let people in made me sad for him. I could understand what he was feeling, but I never wanted him to feel as if he had to go through anything alone ever again. I did promise, after all.

Once I finally reached his apartment door, I stilled my breath and knocked. Almost instantly the smiling face of my boyfriend greeted me. Kurt's smile was very different from mine; my grin was all tooth and I almost looked overeager whenever I smiled showing my teeth.

But Kurt had many different types of smiles. He had a shy smile that he'd worn when he and I went on our first date; one that was tight with flushed cheeks and slight crinkles next to his mouth. He had his excited smile where his eyes shone bright and wide with the corners of his mouth stretching his lips into perfect position. There was his seductive smile – one I had grown to appreciate more in the past week or so – where his eyebrow was quirked in an almost questioning way as his mouth sported a lopsided grin with his teeth gripping his bottom lip.

But the smile he was wearing as I opened the door was my favorite – the one smile that was accompanied by a soft chuckle with his teeth slightly bared under his top lip and his mouth practically stretching at how wide his smile was. It was gorgeous and a smile that Kurt seemed to save for only special occasions and I was just happy to receive this wonderful smile.

"Hi," I replied softly as I pecked him on the lips, still feeling the lingering smile at his lips as our mouths met. "It smells great in here," I noted as I got a whiff of Kurt's apartment from the hallway.

"It smells even better inside, come in," he said, holding the door open for me as I entered. Once inside, I smiled as I saw the interior of his apartment. I could tell Kurt had a hand in the decoration of the apartment since it was rather uncluttered and simplistic, two things the Wes I knew from high school didn't comprehend. The walls were painted in a bold navy blue, which only made the white crown molding pop. The furniture was in neutral browns that made everything look masculine but put together – which was only a further indication that Wes had nothing to do with the interior decorating of their apartment.

Along the back wall was a wall full of framed pictures. The frames didn't match, but just from the amount of photos on the wall I had to imagine many of them were full of happy memories and friends and family smiling down on them as they'd watch a movie on the couch.

The small kitchen wasn't impressive in terms of size, but Kurt had seemed to make due with what he had. The open space led to a small table just outside of the kitchen area that had two brown chairs flanking the table.

It was the most well decorated apartment I'd ever seen a man live in.

"Wow," I said as I finished looking over the apartment. I looked over at Kurt who was stirring something on the stove with a small smile on his face. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist as he stirred the red sauce on the stove.

As I stood wrapped in him, I inhaled the mixture of the spicy sauce with Kurt's cologne and drooled. "Smells great," I said, purposely leaving it open to interpretation.

"Thanks!" Kurt responded gleefully. "I made chicken enchiladas. I hope that's okay."

"Sounds perfect," I said with a smile as I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. I could feel his cheek muscles tense into a smile as the contact lingered. "Do you need any help?" I asked as I tucked my chin against his shoulder.

"I think we're all set. The enchiladas have about five more minutes in the oven and then we'll top it with this sauce and then we eat."

I hummed in agreement and placed another kiss on Kurt's cheek. I stood with my hands around his waist as he leaned over the sauce, savoring the quiet moment with the two of us. It wasn't that we weren't physically affectionate people – though we did tend to tone it down a little in public – but ever since we crossed the physical... and sexual... barrier, the desire within myself to have my hands on him was overwhelming.

Something I had always recognized was that as soon as that physical barrier was crossed, I had a hard time keeping my hands to myself. I tended to be a physically affectionate guy and once I knew that my partner was willing to initiate some sort of physical contact, I took it and ran with it. It was the primary reason I didn't engage in one night stands and reserved myself physically – my emotions were held in my actions and it meant something to me to be wrapped around a guy. It wasn't something I wanted to throw around, or else my heart wouldn't be able to handle it. And now that Kurt and I had shared in something... wonderful, physically... I wanted to be near him or touching him whenever I could. I was worried that my seemingly sudden change in demeanor would scare Kurt off, but he seemed to lean into my touch ever so slightly, so I assumed it was okay.

"This is nice," I said as I hugged Kurt softly, feeling his stirring arm brush faintly against the arm wrapped around him.

"It is," he concurred, stilling the spoon in his hand and turning the heat down. Once the temperature had lowered, he turned around and placed his arms around my shoulders. Kurt was a few inches taller than me, but the way we had tangled together felt comfortable. His arms continued to pull me forward until my cheek was flush with his and his arms fully engulfed around my shoulders – leaving little space between our chests.

Being against Kurt's frame, I didn't feel much softness since his physique was toned and taut. Yet somehow the hardness of his muscles against my somewhat less toned chest and back comforted me. I had dreamt about our two chests against each other with no clothing in between and the thought nearly put me in an awkward situation below the belt, but I looked into Kurt's eyes and the lust faded only to be replaced with reverence at looking into his eyes.

"Hi," I said, feeling like no words could really suffice when his gaze was fixed on mine.

He chuckled, "Hi yourself," he replied before leaning forward to place a soft kiss on my lips. "I'm glad you're here," he practically whispered as he pulled away.

"Me too," I agreed. As I leaned forward to give Kurt another kiss, my stomach growled – betraying my lips with its hunger.

Kurt leaned back and laughed – putting more space between us than I wanted. "Hungry? Good thing it's almost ready," he noted, pulling away entirely to turn and check the contents of the over. "I think we can pull it out now – seems done enough." He carefully took out the dish and laid it on the stove, pouring the contents of the saucepan on top. He pointed to the cabinet to my left and asked, "Can you get out two plates, please, honey?"

I smiled at the term of endearment and obliged his request. He carefully divided up the food and I placed the plates in his hand – earning me a kiss on the cheek for my efforts.

Suddenly I was hit with this scene of domesticity with him and how... right it felt. It was natural and though I'd felt it when he and I had gone to the grocery store what felt like ages ago when I realized I loved him, this moment solidified that even though Kurt and I still hadn't been in a relationship for a long time, I still wanted to get to know him on every level. And I would be willing to experience things – big things like promotions and family visits as well as small things like dinners together or movies watched – as time passed.

It was the first time I really saw Kurt and thought "future." I could easily see me cooking – or attempting to cook – dinner and having it ready for Kurt when he'd get home from work and sharing in chores or walking a dog together as we walked to the store or sitting next to each other on the subway while we held hands and laughed. The simple, small things that I had always wished I would have with someone but hadn't experienced yet.

"Here you go," Kurt said, handing me a plate. I snapped back to reality and took the plate from my smiling boyfriend. "We can eat here or on the couch."

"Here's fine," I said, not wanting to eat on the couch because I was afraid I might spill some of the red sauce on his clean couch. "I meant to ask, where's Wes?"

"He made himself scarce," Kurt replied as he sat down and placed the cloth napkin that had been placed on the table into his lap. "He owes me after what I walked in on the other day."

I sat opposite him with a questioning look on my face. "Huh?"

Kurt chuckled. "I was folding laundry the other day and he and Lauren burst in here practically devouring each other's faces. It was pretty awkward, so I said I wouldn't tell any of his friends about his embarrassing encounter with me catching him and his girlfriend in exchange for him not being here today."

"You kind of broke that promise by telling me," I admitted with a soft laugh. "But he could have been here; it's not like I would have minded."

"No," Kurt stated. "I wanted us to be alone."

"You trying to get lucky or something?" I joked as a hearty laugh escaped my mouth.

"Maybe," he admitted with a slight blush and a daring wink. Damn that man. He really knew how to melt me into a puddle of Kurt-lusting goo. "You might want to eat some before it gets cold," he said, gesturing to the food on the plate in front of me; untouched as the thought of Kurt and I getting intimate again flooded my mind.

Part of me wanted to come back with some quip about what I wasreallyhungry for now, but I was worried it would be too crass or it would actually lead to something and in the battle of my body right now, my hunger was beating out my libido. Besides, Kurt would still be there once this food was consumed.

As I bit into Kurt's Mexican confection, I practically moaned. He had to have some giant flaw that I just couldn't see because one thing he was amazing at was cooking – just like he was seemingly amazing at everything else. "Goh," I said, my mouth full. "Suh goo."

Kurt laughed lightly as he placed a normal sized bite in his mouth. "Glad it's good."

I swallowed and looked to him. "Seriously, is there anything you can't do? Every time I eat your cooking, I'm wondering if there is anything on the face of this planet that you don't excel at."

He grinned. "I'm not great at sports. Or resisting a good sale."

I chuckled. "Well, thank you for cooking. This is truly a wonderful meal." Kurt laughed harder. I looked at him, wondering why he was laughing so hard. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "You're so polite. It's incredibly adorable."

I blushed at the compliment. It wasn't that I hadn't heard that before, but from Kurt it seemed different. Plus being called adorable by someone like him was truly an honor. "Well thanks," I replied. "I didn't go to prep school for nothing. They like to groom gentlemen, you know."

"Well they certainly succeeded with you," he stated.

I beamed and took another bite of food. The rest of the dinner continued like normal; I asked Kurt about his weekend at the theater and he wondered about how things were going with the band. We were catching up in a way that we normally only could over the phone, but it was the small things that I enjoyed the most about talking with my boyfriend.

As I was preparing to give him a few more details about the band and their upcoming release, my phone started to ring from my pocket. I smiled sheepishly in apology as I extracted it from my pants. I saw "Mom" flash across the screen and silenced it.

"You can take the call, Blaine," Kurt said as he looked at me from across the table. "I'm not going to be offended or anything."

I shook my head. "It's okay. It's just my mom. She can leave a message." But apparently she couldn't because my phone started ringing again practically as soon as I'd silenced it. I groaned. "I'm sorry," I said.

Kurt smiled. "Really, it's okay. It'll give me a chance to put these dishes in the dishwasher... unless you want seconds?"

I patted my stomach. "I think I'm set, but thank you," I said. I accepted the call and held the phone to my ear. "Hi mom."

"Hi sweetie! Why didn't you answer the first time I called?"

"I'm kind of busy, Mom. Did you need something?"

"Busy? With what? Oh, well, I just wanted to tell you that your father and I are going to be in New York for Martin Luther King weekend. We'll arrive on Thursday and we'll be staying through that Monday afternoon. So we'd love to see you while we're there." Kurt quietly picked up the plate in front of me as well as his own and headed toward the small kitchen to place them in the dishwasher as I continued to listen to my mother ramble in my ear.

"We can finally go to that new exhibit at MoMA and you know your father is dying for some quality pizza; the places in Ohio just don't taste the same," she noted as I nodded along silently.

"That sounds great, mom," I said, sending a silent apology to Kurt as he peered over his shoulder at me as he closed the dishwasher. "Can you email me your itinerary and I'll make sure that I can at least meet you at your hotel when you arrive?"

"I can do that," she stated. Silence lingered for a moment but I knew better than to try and end this call before my mom was through. She tended to sit silently before she "went in for the kill" – so to speak. I knew that her impending travel plans with my dad couldn't have been the only reason she called; she would have easily sent me that information over email in the first place.

"So, how's work?"

"Fine," I replied. She had just talked to me about work the day before during our weekly chat, so I knew that it wasn't the end. "Mom, I know you're fishing for something. Just tell me what you're getting at."

She gasped with faux frustration before laughing. "I can't get anything past you, can I?"

I chuckled. "Between me, Dad, and Cooper, we've figured out the ways you try to get information out of us."

"Well, I was honestly calling about how things are going with Kurt." Her statement earned a groan from me and a questioning look from my boyfriend. "Now, don't be like that. I just know we haven't really talked about what happened with him and I know you said it was a misunderstanding but you hadn't mentioned him since. Are you still seeing him? Are things okay?"

"Why? Worried about your potential for future grandchildren?" I joked. The word "grandchildren" seemed to further pique Kurt's interest as he came and sat in the chair across from me at the table.

"That's not it and you know it. I just want you to be happy, Blaine. You're such a wonderful man and I just want to see you happy."

I sighed. I knew that she did want me to be happy, but she'd be lying if she weren't also worried about getting her son married off and having her pocketbook full of pictures of grandkids. "Mom, things with us are fine. You don't need to worry about it. And yes, we're still seeing each other."

Kurt's eyes grew bigger, and then he mouthed,Is she talking about me?

I nodded while my mom kept talking. "Well that's a relief. I hope we can meet him while he's in town."

I put my hand over the mouthpiece for a moment before asking Kurt, "Are you going to be free any time during Martin Luther King weekend?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't even know when that is other than that it's some time in January."

"Me either," I said with a laugh. "My mom is emailing me the dates later."

"Is that him?!" I heard my mother bark through the phone. Apparently I am not great at covering up the mouthpiece on my phone. Dammit.

"Uh, yes. I'm with Kurt right now."

"Give him the phone."

"What?" I asked incredulously. Yeah right, like I was going to give my mother free reign to embarrass me over the phone with Kurt.

"You heard me, give the phone to Kurt. I'd like to speak to him."

I shook my head. "No way, Mom. You can talk to him when you're in New York."

Instead of sit back and watch my conversation with my mom, Kurt did the unexpected – and grabbed the phone from my ear before putting the phone up to his own. I could hear my mom still rambling faintly on the other end using my full name and some sort of veiled threat but I could hear silence from her side as soon as Kurt spoke.

"Hello?" he stated. "I'm fine, how are you?" he asked after a pause for my mom's response.

He sat quietly as he listened to my mom on the other end. I knew that they were likely exchanging pleasantries and whatnot but it was killing me that I had no idea what they were saying. "Can't you put it on speakerphone?" I asked as I attempted to shield the slight despair in my voice.

Kurt giggled – that jerk – before stating, "Yes, Mrs. Anderson. He is treating me just fine although I'm sure he's feeling slightly tortured for not knowing what you're saying to me right now. He wants me to put you on speakerphone." More silence before a louder giggle erupted from his throat. "She says that since you didn't tell her about me until recently, this is her payback for not getting to speak with me sooner. She also said she's sticking out her tongue, but I'll spare you that."

I rolled my eyes as I eased myself back in the chair, resigning myself to the fact that my mother was going to probably ask Kurt's entire life story or start planning my imaginary wedding with him or something equally embarrassing. But Kurt and my mom held to their private conversation though I was curious at what she was asking based on Kurt's side of the conversation.

"Yes, he is a gentleman."

"No, he hasn't met my parents either."

"I haven't thought about it, to be honest."

"I would love to come and visit you in Ohio when we're in town next."

"He was right; I do."

"Of course I would love to see that with you while you're in New York."

"I'm sure Blaine and I can go with you and your husband to that as well."

"Yes, I love it there."

"No, he hasn't come to see me at work. Well, he sort of did but not really."

"Don't get me wrong, I could do better, but I like it a lot."

There was so much to be interpreted based on what Kurt's half of the conversation, but before long Kurt had exchanged his goodbyes before hanging up and sliding the phone across to me.

"She didn't want to talk to me after that?" I quipped.

He laughed. "She said she didn't want to interrupt our date any further, but she wanted to share that she thought that I seem like a lovely man and she is very much looking forward to meeting me in a few weeks. She also said she'd talk to you on Saturday as usual."

I rolled my eyes again. Clearly, Kurt was already well on his way to becoming best friends with my mother and I wasn't sure if the thought thrilled me to know that he'd be close with my mom or scared me to think of the potential destruction the two of them in cahoots could have on my life.

Kurt pulled me from my thoughts about he and my mom wearing matching outfits and calling each other BFF when he asked, "I also have some dessert – some pie if you'd like some?"

I grinned. "Please tell me it's pumpkin."

He laughed. "Ask and you shall receive. Why don't we eat the pie on the couch? It's way more comfortable than these chairs. They may look good, but they're not the most comfortable when you sit in them for too long."

I nodded and headed to the living area and sat on the couch and made myself at home.

I could get used to this, I thought to myself as I looked around the room with the rustling of my boyfriend's activity in the background. I peered once again at the pictures lining the wall and saw many smiling faces of people I didn't recognize and one or two with Wes and Kurt. But I was taken back by one new picture that I hadn't noticed before right near the center; one of me and Kurt from my company's holiday Christmas party; adorned in holiday props and kissing softly for the camera. I smiled as I welcomed my image making the wall and hoped to add many more as I sat back comfortably on the couch and closed my eyes, waiting for Kurt to come and join me.

KURT

As Blaine made his way into the kitchen, I carefully extracted the pie from the cooling rack I had set up on top of my refrigerator. I lay it down on the counter and pulled out a knife. When I looked down at my hand, I realized I was shaking and lay the knife onto the counter.

So far, lunch had gone well but now it was coming to the part that made me incredibly nervous. I hoped that I had concealed my worry while we were eating and I seemed to succeed, but now it was time for me to actuallytalkto Blaine.

I wasn't nervous about talking to him or anything – he was probably the easiest person to talk to. But it was the fact that the conversation was about to get incredibly personal and I worried that I would lose my conviction and chicken out or that I would break down and start crying and appear weak. I never thought that crying as a man made me any less masculine, but whenever things were tough with my family and friends,Iwas the strong one and being the vulnerable one wasn't something I welcomed often. The crying I had done over my frustration and anger with Blaine was a rarity but I had hoped that I wouldn't cry twice in two weeks.

I steeled myself one last time and picked up the knife and cut two generous portions of pie for Blaine and myself. If I was going to do this, I was going to enjoy some part of the afternoon of Sharing Time with Kurt. No matter the outcome - good or bad - I would still get to enjoy my pie.

After plating the pie, I headed to join my boyfriend who was blissfully laid back on the couch; eyes closed and breathing deep breaths as if he was trying to either sleep or savor something that smelled really good. I tauntingly placed the pie underneath his nose and his eyes snapped open, look of pure joy crossing his face.

"Oh my god, I love you so much," he mused as he greedily took the pie from my hand and took another whiff of the confection.

I couldn't help but laugh. "So, you only love me for my goodies, huh?"

"Not just these goodies," he said with a wink as his spare hand crept up my arm with a tingling, taunting pace. That jerk knew that even the faintest of touches would be held sacred to me; especially when accompanied with that sexy smirk that I would stumble over every time I came across it.

I rolled my eyes and slunk into the couch next to him. I took a small bite of the pie and watched Blaine hold the plate in his hand with a sort of reverence – as if he was worshipping the pie. He truly was a weirdo. But he wasmyweirdo. "You know, it tastes better than it smells," I quipped as I took another bite of pie.

He peered at me from his spot on the couch and laughed. "I'm afraid I'm going to embarrass myself at how I'm about to inhale this pie so quickly. Please don't break up with me when I shove this entire piece of pie down my gullet."

I chuckled. "There's more pie that you're more than welcome to if you really want it. I made it special for you."

"Really?" he asked innocently, as if he couldn't comprehend that this whole pie was for him.

"Of course," I said.

He smiled that lazy smile that felt so natural and... gleeful... before he picked up his fork and cut into the pie carefully – not too large of a bite, but one that was bordering on being a bit too large to fit in his mouth. He eyed the piece carefully as it made the journey from the plate to his mouth and the moment that the pie hit his tongue, the noise he made was so loud and practically... erotic... that I jumped. Thankfully his eyes were closed as he experienced the ecstasy of the pie I had made for him, but I would be lying if that noise didn't tug at the senses and... roused some things.

But the whole point of this wasn't to be in awe of the noises and simple pleasures that Blaine experienced; it was to open up to him and really take our relationship to a new level. The thought still terrified me but I knew that I would never really be able to move forward with a relationship –anyrelationship – unless I let down my guard and truly talked to someone.

If I was being honest with myself, even my closest friendships still lacked a sense of intimacy and depth. At the core, people knew who I was – things I liked, my opinion of things, what motivated me. But know one reallyknew mebecause I would keep things at a surface level and not share my despair or sorrow or frustration with others. I would bottle it up and keep it in for as long as possible. Over the years, some people got to see through the cracks – like Wes when everything went down with William. But he still only saw a snippet of what made me who I am today. He didn't know the full context of the pain I experienced in high school, he didn't know the worries I'd had when my father had fallen ill twice when I was still in my late teens, he didn't know the nights I cried myself to sleep after my mom died and the wondering my mind had drifted off to when I realized that she was never coming back.

Those were the things that people didn't see – didn't hear from me. But I was tired; I was tired of putting up a front and living life alone. I needed someone to stand by my side and from what I had experienced so far with Blaine, he fit the bill.

Blaine was kind, warm, generous, goofy, fun, devoted, charming... and just wonderful all around. He was the kind of guy I was looking forward to having him meet my dad and Carole; he was the guy I wanted in my corner for the foreseeable future.

"Kurt? You okay?" Blaine's voice asked as he pulled me from my thoughts. I looked over at him as he sheepishly held the empty plate in his hand, fork clicking on the plate as he lay it down on the table.

"Yeah, sorry," I replied as I placed my empty plate next to his.

"You want—"

"You want—"

"No, you first," Blaine insisted. It's funny that we ended up saying the exact same words to each other at the exact same time, but it seemed kind of right with him.

"I was going to ask if you wanted any more pie."

He shook his head. "I think I'm good for now, though you were so right that your pie is incredible. I think I may be in heaven right now by how good it was."

I giggled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You can definitely take some home if you'd like." I sat back quietly as my leg rubbed against his. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to talk about whatever you were thinking about. You looked so... serious and kind of... contemplative."

I laughed internally; he knew me pretty well even if he still didn't know everything about me. "I did, actually," I said as I pulled myself closer to him and sat with our hips touching, my head leaning ever so slightly onto his shoulder. He immediately leaned back on the couch and he pulled me toward him, burrowing me further into his shoulder and chest.

It was kind of a weird position for two guys to be in – or, at least I thought it was weird since I hadn't ever seen two men practically swaddled in each other before – but it felt comfortable with Blaine wrapping himself around me. What's funny was that he instinctively seemed to know that I needed to be wrapped in him – and he didn't even know what I was going to say. He justknewwhat I needed, and it made me crave him even more.

"This is really hard for me," I said softly, still afraid that this was going to show too much of me, get too serious and he'd freak out and I'd feel alone again.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he replied softly, rubbing his chin against my forehead, his slightly scratchy chin tickling my skin.

I nodded and breathed deeply pulling in Blaine's scent and his warmth and his...him. "I know. But I want to."

Blaine hummed in agreement and sat there with me; not making a sound, just waiting for me to say what I wanted. Blaine was so incredibly patient that it blew my mind sometimes that someone like him would put up with someone so insistent and secretive as me, but he did and I didn't want to question it too much. Otherwise I would wind myself up too much and would never be able to get this out.

So as I lay in Blaine's arms – safely, happily, nervously – I went through my life's story. I shared about the happy childhood I could remember with my parents and the pure joy and love I felt from my mom and dad. I told him about my mom and how she died and how empty I felt in the wake of her loss. I told him about how alone I felt in high school and how despite people's best efforts, how no one really understood me. I explained how lost I felt when my dad was ill and how I held onto him for dear life with the hopes that I would not lose another parent while I was still a child in an adult world. I told him about the pain and loss and grief I felt at the hands of the closeted bully that made my life hell. I told him about college and how I had hoped that it would be happier time – and it was – and then highlighted more of the heartbreak and betrayal I felt at the hands of the only man that I had been romantically involved with.

As I shared – and itreally wassharing – Blaine would listen emphatically and at certain points he would hold me tighter or gasp slightly at the things I said. He didn't say a word, didn't ask a single question – he just let me talk. And held me. And somehow, he made this all easier in a way I hadn't expected. Not because I didn't think Blaine was capable, but I just didn't think this sense of relief and happiness was in the cards for me - ever.

When I had finally gotten him to where we were today and I just exhaled and waited for him to respond. It was a time like this that his silence worried me; what was running through his mind? Was he afraid? Was I damaged goods? Would he stillwantme the way that I wanted him?

After a minute, he pulled himself upright and his change in stature threw me for a loop. Was he getting up to leave? To run for the hills? Instead, he surprised me again and sat upright and gingerly placed his hands on my shoulders as I was still turned away from him.

"Look at me," he whispered brokenly. I turned on instinct; afraid at the honey eyes that waited for me with each degree I spun. I expected a slightly horrified look on his face, one of pity – something I didn't want from him – or one of repulsion.

But I should have known.

I kept my eyes downcast until his warm hand clasped under my chin, raising my eyes to meet his. The look that met mine was something almost indescribable. He just seemed to look at me with... awe. As if he was seeing something for the very first time with the vigor and clarity of a child when they learn something new.

He didn't say a word and just... looked. My eyes shifted nervously as I couldn't figure out what exactly he was looking at. But before long, his soft lips had grazed mine; pressure soft and caring. He backed away from my face slowly and his eyes met mine again. The color of his eyes was more clear than ever before with our faces millimeters apart and I could still feel his hands on my face, guiding me toward him.

"You're so beautiful, Kurt," he panted against my lips with a slight smile. "You're so beautiful and strong and wonderful and... god, I am so incredibly proud and honored that I can call you mine."

The praise made me blush as he continued. "I – I can't even begin to understand the... pain you've felt in your life. You have been through so much and so much happened before you were even on this earth for two decades and I'm just... amazed that you are so resilient and still so unashamedly you despite everything that you've experienced.

"And I know that telling me this was hard – I could tell – but, dammit, I amsothankful that you told me. Only because it makes me appreciate you and your wit and your grace and your... everythingsomuch more. I just... I don't want you to ever feel that way again. And it wouldn't matter if for some reason we broke up tomorrow – though I sincerely hope that doesn't happen," he joked and I managed a soft chuckle, "I would still want you to be happy and to never experience that sense of loss and... I just want you to be happy. Always."

His hands dropped from my face as he picked up my hands and linked his fingers with mine. "You are so brave, Kurt. You're brave for telling me. You're brave for experiencing it at all. And you're brave for still going through the motions. God, I want to be more like you. You're so wonderful and..." He took a deep breath. "I just love you so much more now than I did before. I knew I loved you, but now I'm sure that I'll always love you. No matter what."

The way in which he managed to heal my heart in a small way with the few words he'd said. He wasn't scared away. He didn't pity me. He wasn't leaving. He was staying. He wanted me to be happy. He wantedmedespite it all.

"I—" I started before Blaine's lips came crashing onto mine with a fervor I hadn't experienced before. It wasn't rushed with an animalistic need, yet it wasn't soft with tepidness behind it. It was as if it was something bigger, something that meant something was trying to be conveyed through the contact of just our lips.

It was more.Wewere more.

We still had a long way to go – there were things that I wanted to know of Blaine and there were families to meet and even more stories to share. Yet in that moment, everything changed.

His lips continued their pressure against mine, unrelenting and passionate with electricity sparking from every breath, every taste of his tongue, every pucker. My hands found themselves fisting against the cardigan he'd worn as his own hands had moved from my hands to clutching the back of my head, holding it gently yet using it to guide our kiss to deepen it in a way I couldn't articulate. As my hands clutched onto his clothes, a strip of skin became bare and I rubbed the bit I could grab as his fingers tickled the small of my neck and moved against the neckline of the sweater I was wearing.

With a smack, he pulled away and I instantly craved his closeness again. The kiss had sealed our relationship – no, ourpartnership– and I didn't think we were quite finished.

"I want to see you," he whispered as his hands moved across the broad planes of my shoulders and down my arms and moved to my waist, our bodies mirroring each other as our hands lay on each other's waists.

I looked at him curiously. "You do see me, Blaine. You've seen all of me."

He shook his head. "No. I want toseeyou," he said, emphasizing the word again as he rubbed along my hips.

What does he want to—

...oh.

Oh.

A moment of panic had sunk in but before I could really dissect what I was thinking, the way that Blaine was looking at me immediately squashed any uneasiness I'd felt. In this moment, I realized Blaine wasn't trying to use sex to get out of an argument or to placate me in a way like William had. He was using it as a way to validate me and to validateus, to put actions behind his feelings and words.

"Okay," I murmured as I tugged on the hem of his sweater. He immediately peeled it from his shoulders, showing the plain black t-shirt underneath. In response he pulled on the bottom of my sweater, whipping it off my frame and instantly cooling my warmed body underneath, clad in a plain white undershirt.

It was funny in a way – that Blaine wore black while I wore white; the balance of yin and yang as we contrasted against each other yet worked in such harmony that our coexistence just felt right. But before I could ponder on it too long, Blaine's hands were tugging at the waist of my jeans, untucking my undershirt carefully as his fingers lightly skimmed the flesh at my waist. His touch made me shiver and before long the shirt was untucked and he looked at me one last time, as if silently questioning if it was okay to continue, only to receive my fervent "yes" as I took the hem of my own shirt in my hands and pulled it over my head.

Blaine sat back as he watched me place the shirt on the back of the couch and I moved forward to remove his shirt, but he intercepted me first and pulled his own shirt from his body.

It wasn't the first time that I had seen him shirtless or vice-versa, but it was the first time that we had removed each other's clothing with an intention of the nakedness leading to something more. In the past it had been to change shirts or the one time I happened upon Blaine's shirtless frame after a run. But this time, we were half naked with more lingering in our actions and in our words.

We just looked at each other for a minute, calm hands moving over newly exposed flesh, skin rippling as goose bumps rose to the surface due to the touching and cool air exposing us.

Blaine's hand made its way up my arm again and he pulled me closer and kissed me, softness oozing through as he clung to my neck. The kiss remained respectful yet persistent and never crossed the line into crazed or urgent. The only need shared here was the need to feel connected to each other.

My hands skirted around the button for Blaine's jeans and without breaking the kiss or opening my eyes, I could feel his hands approaching my belt as well. I felt the monumental shift that was about to take place as Blaine and I were quickly approaching the final barrier before he would see all of me, literally and metaphorically, before he stilled my hands at his jeans.

"What?" I questioned breathlessly, worried that Blaine had changed his mind.

"Not here," he said. I looked at him, more confused than ever. He looked at me; desire still present in his eyes, but his words and actions weren't matching. He seemed to still want it, but was stopping it from happening. He chuckled, presumably in response to the confusion painted on my face, before answering. "I don't want to have sex with you on your couch like two teenagers who are just trying to hurry themselves before a parent walks back in the room. I want to go somewhere where we can... relax and where we won't have to worry about how two full-grown men will fit on a tiny couch."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I took his hand with one of my own and grabbed my shirt and sweater with the other. He caught on immediately and grabbed his own clothes before I pulled us toward the bedroom.

Wordlessly we walked into the bedroom and shut the door silently behind us, leaving the things we talked about in the living room and moving into a new sense of worship and togetherness in the confines of my bedroom; bed acting as an altar and he and I willing participants in the offering of love and togetherness.

That day, Blaine and I shared things we never had before – stories, laughter, touches, kisses, and feelings. But it wasn't just those things that were new –wewere new. We had pulled ourselves together and were joined as one in body, mind, and spirit.

I had found The One, the love of my life.

All of the sadness, emptiness, and anger were all means to an end.

Thiswas it.Blainewas it.

And I couldn't be happier.