“You two have barely been friends two months, Kurt.”

“But that’s why it’s so upsetting. I feel so close to him already, like we’ve already connected, and I can’t do anything. I can’t do this with him.” He turned his head to look at Mercedes, who was sitting beside him, gently stroking his hair.

Mercedes was trying to be nicer to Blaine. The boy seemed to have proved that he wasn’t secretly trying to hurt Kurt, but she was still wary. Mercedes always harboured some small portion of guilt for letting Kurt take her hand that day in the park. It had changed the way she reacted to those around her: she was more careful with her emotions, rarely letting people see past her diva attitude. Physical contact was not something she took lightly. Although brushing hands with someone in the hallway had no effect on her, she was much less tactile than she may have been if she had never met Kurt. She had seen what touch did to a relationship, faerie or not. Although she could tell Blaine was a good person, she was not about to throw herself into a friendship. She also had the sense that Kurt wanted this relationship for himself for a little while. Kurt had never been able to have a friend of his own, all to himself, unshared with those around him. Mercedes had been practically adopted by his father; Carole was his father’s wife; Finn had known Mercedes before he knew Kurt, not to mention he was Carole’s son. Everyone was interlinked except Blaine. That boy was Kurt’s and Kurt’s alone and Mercedes did not want to disturb that.
She sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “I don’t want to change your decision in any way, Kurt. You know that.” She received a nod in return. “But you also know that the only way to fix this is to connect to him. If it’s too soon, that’s fine, but just now you were saying it feels as if you have already. I think,” she said, pulling on his ear gently, “that that tells you something.”

Kurt hid his face against her leg. “For once, I think you might be right.”

“For once? Boy, do not think you can get away with that just because you’re sad right now,” she said, laughing as she slapped the back of his head.
Kurt giggled and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, pulling her down to lie beside him. “Love you, ’Cedes.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

It was silly and clich�d, but it was their thing. They’d said it since they were little children and would probably never stop. Kurt wiggled even closer to her and she locked her arms behind his back.

“How do I do it, Mercedes? You can’t exactly go up to someone and say ‘I’d like to attach myself to you emotionally. Take my hand at seven o’clock.’”

She laughed into his coiffed hair. “Make it special. It should be just as important to him as it is to you.”

“But I have no idea how to make something special. I never do that. I don’t…have anyone to do that for.”

She pushed his head back to look him in the eye. “Kurt, you make us have a friendship anniversary every year. You pamper me and cook for me and we celebrate the moment we first shook hands. Do you not think that’s special?”

“I-is that the same thing?”

She kissed his forehead, which was an action she was not often able to keep him still for. “Of course. You know how to do this, Kurt. You’re just letting your head get the better of you. What does Blaine like?”

Kurt groaned and curled into her again. “He’s a person. He likes lots of things.”

“What do you have in common?”

“Everything.”

“Kurt, come on, at least try. Do you want to connect to this boy or not?”

Kurt pulled away from her, sitting up on the bed and wrapping his arms around his knees. His eyes were wide as he stared at Mercedes. “I’m actually going to do this, aren’t I?”

“Kurt, you don’t have to.”

He waved his hand impatiently. “I know that. But I’m going to do this. I can’t…Why am I so nervous?”

She moved closer to him, putting an arm around his back. “I don’t think you’d be human if you weren’t.”

Blaine grabbed one of Kurt’s pillows before he clambered onto the bed. He pulled it close to his chest and watched the other boy carefully pack away his needles and thread. It was only the fifth time they’d met and Blaine had arrived at Kurt’s earlier than he had predicted. The other boy had still been engaged in embroidering a jacket.
Kurt placed the last needle in its correct place – they were arranged by type, then size order within that – and joined Blaine on the bed, crossing his knees.

“You made this, right?” Blaine asked, pointing at the waistcoat Kurt was wearing.

“Of course,” Kurt replied, although he was trying not to blush. This boy was so enthusiastic about everything.

“It’s so clever. I love this detail,” Blaine said, reaching out to trace across a piece of embroidery on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Don’t!” Kurt scrambled backwards.

Blaine pulled his hand in to his chest. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know that would…I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, breathing a little more evenly. “You just need to be careful, alright? A touch of the fingertips is all it takes.”

Blaine nodded solemnly, shrinking back into the headboard. “I’ll work on that. Although I must say,” he continued, grinning a little now that the panic had passed, “you make it sound sort of romantic with the whole fingertips thing.”

Blaine sighed, spreading out his arms and legs on his bed, letting himself stretch like a starfish across it. Sectionals were done. The Warblers had tied. Blaine knew they should have done better, should have won outright, but he was happy for what they had. He was just glad there would be some respite before Regionals in which he could spend time with Kurt without his double-layered thought process.

But that was the problem. Spending time with Kurt was so hard for Blaine. He now realised how much he had taken touch for granted; he had never truly appreciated the way it could change things. He had always known he was tactile, but he hadn’t known how much he relied on that sense. Not touching Kurt was nearly impossible and it only got harder with every bit closer they grew. Blaine had briefly considered staying away from Kurt for a few days to make it easier for them, but he had pushed that thought away almost at once. That would just hurt the other boy. Kurt would think Blaine didn’t want to see him any more.

His phone buzzed on his bedside table and he broke his starfish pose to answer it. As he had expected, it was Kurt.

“Blaine, can you come over today?”

Blaine grinned, sitting up at once. He had never known anyone to be as abrupt as Kurt was on the phone. The boy barely ever said hello, choosing to launch straight into conversation instead.

“Yeah. I’m actually doing nothing right now. I was about to call you and beg you to have me over.”

“You don’t need to beg,” Kurt replied and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice, even down the phone line.

“Good to know. Should I come now?”

“As quickly as you can. I…have something really important for you.”

Kurt pulled Blaine into the kitchen as soon as he arrived. He pushed carefully on the shorter boy’s shoulders, making him sit in one of the chairs, then stood opposite him, the table between them. He pulled off his gloves and placed them gently on the wood, smoothing them out as he tried to control his breathing.

“Kurt, what’s going on?”

Kurt lifted his hand to his hair, trying to push back a nonexistent flyaway strand. “You know how we sang together before?”

“Yeah, that was…amazing.” Blaine blushed a little, still trying to catch Kurt’s eye.

“Well, I want to sing to you. I know we’ve never done that before and I know it’s probably disgustingly cheesy, but this song is really important to me. T-to us.” Kurt looked up from the table to find Blaine watching him with an encouraging expression.

“Ok. I promise I won’t laugh if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Kurt smiled a little. “No, that’s not the problem. Just…listen.” Kurt bit his lip, gripping his elbows with hands before dropping his arms to his sides quickly. He needed to look confident. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stare straight into Blaine’s eyes, and sang. “Yeah, I’ll tell you something,” he began, willing his voice to stay strong.

Kurt watched Blaine’s eyes widen in recognition. He tried to smile, but he knew it didn’t come out right. He was sure he was going to start shaking, but he pushed himself to carry on. Blaine didn’t seem to quite get what Kurt was trying to say until that one line: I want to hold your hand.

Blaine sat up a little straighter, gripping the sides of his chair tightly. I want to hold your hand. This version was slower than the original, but Blaine wasn’t thinking about that.

And when I touch you I feel happy inside
It’s such a feeling that my love
I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide

Kurt’s voice grew as he sang. He allowed himself to perform a little, gesturing between himself and Blaine – Yeah, you got that something – and raising his arms as the song reached its climax. He didn’t know how he wasn’t crying, but he managed to finish the song, never letting go of their eye contact, his voice just not breaking on the last note.

“I want to hold your hand.”

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt, whose eyes had become piercing as he sang, daring Blaine to tell him that he shouldn’t be doing this. There were a few seconds after the song ended in which Blaine could only hear Kurt’s breathing, a little heavy from the exertion on his lungs.

“You’re my best friend, Blaine,” Kurt said, his voice breaking. “I want…I want you to touch me.”

“Kurt…you know what this will do. Are you—?”

“Don’t ask me if I’m sure. Of course I’m sure!” He braced his un-gloved hands on the table, just a few inches from Blaine’s own. “We’ve formed a friendship without the help of my stupid body. When our skin touches, nothing should change.” Unless I fall in love with you. “I feel the same level of love for you as I do for Mercedes. Everything will stay the same.”

“Kurt…I want you to know that I won’t just leave you once you’re attached to me. I know what that would do to you and I know you can’t help—”

“Blaine.” Kurt’s eyes were softer, his expression full of love for this awkward human being. “I trust you. You haven’t left me yet and we are already as good friends as we’re going to become. If you left me now, you would hurt me just as much.”

Kurt couldn’t remind Blaine that he might start to love him romantically. Blaine would want that to be something Kurt did of his own volition; he would never let their skin even come close to touching. And Kurt needed that. His family and Mercedes were wonderful, but he needed human contact outside of those few people. He needed contact with Blaine. He was infuriated by having to cover every inch of his body just so they could have a conversation without accidentally connecting. He wanted to know whether Blaine was a warm person, whether his skin was soft, how his fingers would feel slotted between Kurt’s without the scratch of fabric. He needed to touch Blaine properly.

There was only a chance that Kurt would fall in love, and he was willing to risk it.
Blaine nodded, bringing Kurt back to the present. “Okay,” he said, and then he smiled at the other boy, looking nervous but exhilarated. He pulled off his gloves and the movement seemed painfully slow to Kurt.

“So,” Blaine continued, his voice quiet, like he didn’t want to disturb the moment. “A touch of the fingertips?”

Kurt laughed softly and nodded. “A touch of the fingertips.”

Blaine raised his right hand and Kurt, his left. They realised both were shaking and for a second their eyes connected and they let out breathy laughs. Then their eyes flicked back to their hands, only a centimetre away from each other.

They moved simultaneously and pressed their fingertips together.

A surge of warmth and raw power shot from the points where they touched, up Kurt’s arm and into the rest of his body. He closed his eyes as the force travelled through every vein, permeating every cell. His body felt lighter, warmer, more complete.

He shuddered as it reached every part of him and at last opened his eyes. Blaine was in front of him, their fingertips still barely pressed against each other, with a smile on his face.

And that was when Kurt knew. He was in love with this boy.

His eyes began to fill with tears and Blaine’s eyes widened. He reached out and pulled Kurt into a tight hug, stroking the back of his head.

“Ssh,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m still here, we’re still here.”

Kurt cried harder. He had wanted Blaine to hold him like this for so long, but he had not been expecting to feel this way. He loved Blaine, not as a friend, but as a lover. His touch made him shiver; his scent enveloped him and made him feel dizzy.

He hated it. He had waited so long to feel connected to another human being, connected to Blaine, and a cruel trick of nature had ruined this moment.

He knew then that he could not tell Blaine. He had to continue as though they were still just friends, as though nothing had changed. Blaine would never forgive himself for touching Kurt and forcing love upon him – as he would see it – and Kurt loved Blaine too much to cause him any pain.

So he clutched at the back of Blaine’s jacket, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer. He tried to relish the feeling of being held and rested his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck, as he had imagined for so long.

“I love you,” he whispered against Blaine’s skin.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied, his face buried in Kurt’s hair.

Kurt wished Blaine knew what he really meant.