Lack of oxygen forced them to break apart but Blaine still didn't want to let go. He kept his arms around Kurt, supporting him against his chest. Kurt hid his face in Blaine's neck, clinging to him with every bit of strength he had, as he panted, misting Blaine's skin with his warm breath.

"Ssh, it's okay," Blaine said for what felt like the hundredth time, rubbing circles on the small of Kurt's back. "It's okay. You're safe, Kurt."

"It's never been okay," Kurt whispered, his voice hoarse from crying. "It'll never be okay."

"Tell me what to do," Blaine begged. "I want to help. Tell me how."

Kurt silently shook his head, feeling defeated.

Blaine's hands carefully cupped his face and made him look up at him. His eyes were watery and so overwhelmingly blue, that Blaine felt himself drowning in them. "Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me..."

"I don't... I can't... Blaine, please," Kurt bit his lip, reddening them even more under the pressure of his teeth, so Blaine leaned down and kissed him again, to distract him.

Kurt dived into the kiss immediately, as if he'd found the answers to his problems. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him closer, and whimpered. Blaine kissed him back, a little hungrily, hoping to soothe Kurt's pain, because he had no idea what else to do.

What do you do with someone who always seemed so strong and now was crumbling in front of you? Even though Blaine had managed to crack Kurt's mask a few times, he'd also known how insistently stubborn he could be, and he couldn't help but wonder what could have happened to break him into pieces like this.

Blaine had never considered himself particularly strong – he had always hidden away, burying his head behind a pile of books, using fantasy as a protective shield, keeping his eyes glued to the words when the world around him was too much to handle. And maybe Kurt had been hiding too (hadn't he actually admitted to it, a few days ago? Hadn't Blaine seen his true self, tastefully dressed, softer than usual, so incredibly scared of being unmasked?), but he wasn't weak. Not like Blaine. Kurt didn't hide from life; he walked around as if he owned it, as if nothing could touch him...

But something obviously had touched him, and Blaine was afraid, because... what could be so bad to actually break someone like Kurt?

Kurt's head dropped to his chest, his fingers still clinging to Blaine's shirt in a death grip. His voice was shaky when he muttered, "I'm so tired..."

"I think you've had enough for today," Blaine said in a soothing voice, stroking Kurt's hair carefully. "Why don't you take the day off? Take all the time you need..."

Kurt's brow furrowed. He seemed to hate the idea of not being busy – and Blaine once again found himself wondering; wondering if Kurt was avoiding facing his own thoughts, hiding from himself. "No," he said, a lot more firmly than Blaine had heard him in a while. "I don't want to... I... I don't want to be alone right now, Blaine."

"You don't have to be alone," Blaine replied quietly. "I'll take you home, okay?"

Kurt simply let Blaine help him up, without saying a word, without any resistance. He stood in the middle of the room, with his arms around himself, looking so utterly lost that it broke Blaine's heart to pieces, while Blaine turned the lights off, gathered their things, and grabbed his keys.

"Where do you live? Is it far?" Blaine asked as he locked the door.

Kurt stood in the sunlight, eyes wandering warily, as if he was scared someone would see him with his guard down. "A few streets from here. It's not far."

"Then we'll take your truck, and I'll walk back here later for my car," Blaine answered, his fingers closed around Kurt's elbow to guide him to the truck, gently. "Okay if I drive?"

"Of course..." Kurt dropped the truck's keys into Blaine's hand before climbing into the passenger's seat.

Kurt only spoke enough to tell him how to get to his place, and then rested his temple against the window, closing his eyes. There was something inside of him emitting so much pain that Blaine had to fight the urge to to pull over to hold Kurt in his arms to reassure him that he would try to make everything better. Instead, Blaine continued to drive, because if that was what Kurt wanted right now, then that's what he'd do.

He forced himself not to think about Kurt kissing him, about how it felt to kiss Kurt, how their lips felt as they moved together. He had no idea where that had come from; if Kurt had kissed him back only because he needed comfort, if he had kissed Kurt only because he wanted to comfort him. He didn't know if he had let his curiosity about Kurt get out of control. Was that what this was about? He was so obsessed with Kurt, with how mysterious, how much of an enigma he was, that he had confused it for something else? He'd always known Kurt was attractive – you'd have to be blind not to see that – but, had he kissed him just because he was good looking?

It wasn't the right time to deal with his confusion. He had to push those thoughts away, because it was possible that Blaine was the only person Kurt could turn to for help right now, and he intended to be there for whatever he needed from him.

Blaine turned left into the street Kurt had indicated and slowed the car, looking for the right house. Kurt's eyes opened, and he looked tired, so tired, as if he hadn't slept in years.

"Third house on the left," he said simply and Blaine nodded.

The two-story house was small, clearly not meant for a big family. It had enough room for a garden at the front, but Kurt obviously hadn't taken the time to put any flowers anywhere. It still looked well cared for. The door seemed to have been recently painted in a dark shade of blue. Blaine parked the car on the driveway, killing the engine, and turned to look at Kurt hesitantly.

"I could make us some coffee and we could talk?" He offered. Just because Kurt didn't want to be alone, it didn't mean it would be okay for Blaine to just invade his personal space.

"Sure," Kurt said in a soft voice that didn't sound a lot like him, and climbed out of the car.

Kurt unlocked the door, and Blaine followed, making sure to wipe his shoes. It really was small, and it looked even smaller in the inside: the living room melted into a dining room, which was connected to the kitchen by a window-like partition. He was sure he could go all the way to the kitchen, and back to the front door in less than thirty steps. Blaine looked around a little bewildered, knowing he was staring right into Kurt. He believed there wasn't anything more intimate, more personal than a person's home. And if this was Kurt's home, then he was seeing to his core.

It was tastefully decorated, in a warm, cozy kind of way. There was a comfortable looking couch where Blaine would've happily snuggle with one of his favorite books for hours. The coffee table had a few magazines on it, and the bookshelves housed a mixture of family pictures and books, both of which Blaine itched to get a better look at. The dining room table was small with only two chairs to sit on (everything seemed to be compact in here). The galley kitchen was spotless, though only big enough for one person to work at the counter. Blaine imagined himself trying to help Kurt cook there, bumping against him every few seconds, laughing, dancing around each other...

Kurt was standing in the middle of the living room, looking lost in his own home, arms still wrapped around himself. Blaine realized he hadn't said anything since he had followed Kurt inside.

"You have a lovely house," Blaine said, because it was true. "It's cozy."

Kurt remained silent, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes avoiding Blaine, still so full of fear and hurt...

"Kurt," Blaine took a chance, and cautiously stepped closer. "Look, I... I have no idea what's going on, but... we can talk about it, if that's what you need. I can stay for as long as you need me..." Blaine glanced at him, and frowned as he watched Kurt tighten his arms around himself, as if all he wanted to do was become invisible. "Or I can go. If that's what you'd rather. I'll just g–"

"No!" Kurt's voice seemed to echo in the living room, his blue eyes suddenly wide and fixed on Blaine. "No, please. No, I..."

Blaine could tell it was hard for Kurt to say what he wanted, to admit that he needed something, so he decided to make it easier for him. He slowly approached Kurt, giving him all the time in the world to stop him, and when Kurt had shown no signs of wanting him to back off, he pulled him gently into his arms.

Kurt's hand closed in fists on his back, his shirt clenched between his fingers. He buried his face into Blaine's neck, as if that was the only place in the world where he could ever be completely safe, and tried to tug him even closer, even though they were already as close as was physically possible.

Nothing more happened for a while. Blaine couldn't tell if it had been only a few minutes, or an hour, because somehow time didn't make sense when Kurt Hummel was holding him, as if Blaine's arms were all the shelter he could've ever wished for. Blaine silently rubbed his back or squeezed him whenever he felt Kurt becoming tense again. It felt as if he was fighting; fighting against something Blaine couldn't see, couldn't understand...

It was Blaine who broke the silence, and only because he knew that holding Kurt – even if it felt wonderful – wouldn't solve anything. Kurt was still hurting, and if he wanted to help him, he needed to try something else.

"Hey," he whispered, his hand coming up to cup Kurt's cheek and make him look at him. Kurt reluctantly pulled away from where he had been resting on his neck. "We can talk, we can... what do you need, Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes bored into his, big, blue, bright, and so beautiful they took Blaine's breath away. His lips parted, just slightly, and a tiny sigh escaped between them. He looked pale, tired and lost, and Blaine wanted to grab his hand and guide him out of the darkness to wherever he would feel safe again.

"Why are you doing this?" Kurt asked in a low voice. "Why are you even here?"

"What do you mean?" Blaine frowned, confused.

"I've been nothing but an asshole to you. I've said things that I... and I've treated you like..." Kurt stopped, swallowed, shook his head and closed his eyes. "You should go. You should leave. I shouldn't have... I'm not..."

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, his voice soft as velvet. "Don't. Just don't. I'm not going anywhere."

"Why not?" Kurt didn't seem to understand, as if he couldn't believe someone would actually want to stay with him.

"Because I care," Blaine said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I care, and I'm not leaving you. I'm here to help, I'm here to..."

Kurt moved forward, capturing Blaine's mouth in an urgent kiss. Caught by surprise, Blaine let out a quick gasp, and Kurt pushed his tongue inside, desperate, hot and smooth, eliciting an unexpected moan from Blaine. Blaine's hands moved up to Kurt's shoulders, suddenly needing something to hold on to.

Even when he felt like he was floating, even when he was in a daze as Kurt's lips moved on his, Blaine knew exactly what was happening. It was as if a part of his brain was entirely conscious of the electricity in the room, of how the air had gotten thicker, of how Kurt's fingers were digging into his sides, trying to melt their bodies together. Blaine knew what was going to happen if he didn't stop kissing Kurt right now. He just knew.

He remembered how he'd felt after Josh, so dirty and worthless. He had regretted falling into something he'd made up in his head, for believing something that wasn't real. He knew that if he didn't stop Kurt now, they would end up doing the same, and yet... he wasn't worried. He wasn't nervous. Something was pulling him towards Kurt, something he couldn't explain.

He should've felt like a hypocrite, because it hadn't even been a month since he'd told himself he couldn't have casual sex, when he had told Josh that it wasn't who he was... but now, with Kurt panting into his mouth and his hands so firmly against him, he wanted to give his body to him. He was sure nothing would be different – Josh hadn't wanted anything to do with Blaine after he was done with him, so why would Kurt? – but he couldn't stop himself. Not now.

Maybe Kurt was the one falling apart, needing comfort, but Blaine needed him, too, in a way he couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Kurt was drowning. He was drowning in their kiss and he didn't give a damn. He just wanted the kiss to never end, but Blaine pulled away, keeping their foreheads together, their lips brushing air between them as they gasped to get some into their lungs. Kurt's fingers curled even tighter in Blaine's clothes.

"Blaine..."

"What do you need?" Blaine asked, breathless. "Just tell me, Kurt, tell me..."

"You," Kurt blurted, his eyes so big, so needy, so desperate.

Blaine swallowed. There would be no turning back. He would have to deal with the consequences. It took him less than a heartbeat to make his decision. "Okay."

*

Kurt guided him upstairs, and Blaine silently followed, very aware of his heart pounding wildly in his chest, aware of the creaking of the third step, aware of Kurt's hand clasping his, aware of the sunlight through the curtains. It felt strange, doing this in the middle of the day, when everyone was going about their daily business. He wouldn't have a walk of shame in the middle of the night, slipping out of bed and sneaking out of the house unnoticed, protected by the darkness. He would have to leave the house when the light was still bright outside, when children were playing in the streets, when people were driving back home after work. Everyone would see him leave, and everyone would know he was the guy who had been in Kurt Hummel's bed, the guy who'd been a quick comfort-fuck.

He felt a lump in his throat, but he ignored it. He wanted this. In some strange, twisted, incomprehensible way, he wanted this. Maybe it was his way of taking control of his body, of stopping himself from being scared of living a little, like Josh had accused him of. Maybe he was simply tired of being alone. Maybe he was tired of seeing sex as something so important, so sacred.

His stomach churned inside of him.

The upstairs of the house looked even smaller. There was just a bathroom and a bedroom up there. Kurt's bedroom. His bed was big, bigger than Blaine's, and covered in throw pillows. Everything was decorated in shades of red combined with white, and for a moment, Blaine felt as if he had stepped into a Valentine's Day card. Only the hearts were missing. Blaine hesitated for a second... no. It wasn't about sweetness, and it wasn't about love. It was about... it was about sex.

And he was going to enjoy it.

Kurt stopped in the middle of the room. His hands cupped Blaine's face, a lot more tenderly than Blaine had expected, and his eyes (so incredibly blue, it was hypnotizing) were once again gazing in his, and Blaine couldn't look away. It was as if he was under some spell.

"You're shaking..." Kurt whispered, as he stroked his cheekbones with his thumbs.

He was. Blaine could feel the tremors all over his body, but he knew they weren't about fear, or regret. It was desire making him shake. Desire so strong and pure that it could barely be contained under his skin, pushing to go out, trying to find a way to escape.

Blaine wasn't sure he had ever felt this much before.

"I'm okay," he assured him, his lips curving slightly into a smile. "Really."

Kurt leaned in, brushed a kiss to Blaine's jaw and then moved down to his neck, teeth scraping the skin there, tearing another moan out of Blaine, before stepping back to take another look at him. "I can be... do you need me to be gentle?"

Blaine's breath hitched in his throat. "No. No... I... fuck me as hard as you need to, Kurt."

Flames. Those were flames in Kurt's eyes, and the blue in them was suddenly gone, replaced by a dark want that made the blood in Blaine's veins boil.

They undressed quickly, there's nothing ceremoniously about it, no stopping to kiss every inch of the other's skin, no time to whisper praises of the other's beauty, no time to worry about where their clothes landed. Blaine was still unbuttoning his pants when Kurt was already naked, pushing the decorative pillows on his bed to the floor, and yanking the covers and sheets back, folding them without much care at the end of the mattress.

Courage. Blaine took a deep breath and walked to Kurt, sliding his arms around him and turning him so they were facing each other, and just watched him, for only a second, before closing the distance to kiss him once more. Only this time he didn't stop at his mouth. He let his lips trail down, he nibbled on the curve of his neck, and on a perfect collarbone, and he licked one of Kurt's perfectly pink nipples until it was a slick peak and the only sound filling the room were Kurt's breathy whimpers.

Kurt made him back away until Blaine's legs hit the edge of the bed, and then Kurt's hands were on his chest, pushing him until Blaine fell on the mattress, so terribly conscious of his own nakedness as Kurt looked down at him. Kurt straddled him, keeping their hips at a safe distance, and his gaze was so hungry that Blaine forgot how to breathe for a moment. He carefully took Blaine's glasses off and put them down on the bedside table.

The skin on Kurt's back was insanely smooth when Blaine pressed a hand against it, feeling how the muscles shifted under his fingers as Kurt lowered himself to kiss Blaine once again, open mouthed and deeper, their tongues meeting halfway and battling for dominance until Kurt's wrapped around Blaine's, pulling it into his own mouth to suck on it, causing Blaine to thrust up as he moaned, their hard cocks brushing teasingly between them.

"You're okay with me topping?" Kurt asked as he ran his fingers through the patch of hair on Blaine's chest, before letting one of his fingernails catch on one of his nipples.

Blaine hissed. "So okay..."

The smirk that appeared on Kurt's face was reminiscent of the ones Blaine had hated so much at first, but completely different at the same time. This one was flirty, warm, playful, and Blaine leaned up to kiss it away.

Kurt stood up, his body suddenly too far for Blaine's grabby hands. "No... come back..."

Kurt chuckled and Blaine wished he could record the sound, play it again a thousand times, use it as his alarm every morning. "Don't be impatient, I just need to get things..."

Blaine watched as Kurt opened the top drawer of his bedside table, and scooted up on the bed, until he was lying on the middle of it. Kurt dropped a condom and bottle of lube on the mattress next to Blaine, and then climbed on top of him purposefully, lips searching for another kiss.

Distracted by the slide of their wet tongues together, Blaine gasped in surprise when Kurt's fingers closed around him, stroking lazily a couple of times, making it impossible for Blaine not to buck up into Kurt's loose fist, looking for more.

"Would you get on your hands and knees for me?" Kurt whispered right into Blaine's ear, sending a delicious shiver down his spine.

Blaine nodded jerkily and hurried to oblige. He usually preferred being on his back, facing the other person. Being like this felt like too much exposure, like there was no connection at all... but somehow, now it sent a thrill all over him, and he gripped the headboard tightly, tilting his ass up, making Kurt groan at the sight. Blaine couldn't remember ever being as bold as this...

"I was so right," Kurt muttered as he dropped a kiss to the small of Blaine's back. "So right when I told you this ass was meant to be fucked... look at you... Blaine, you're perfect."

Blaine squirmed, not used to the way Kurt talked to him, to the way he made him feel. "Kurt..."

"Ssh, it's alright," Kurt coated his fingers throughly. "You look so good, Blaine..."

The first finger pressed against his entrance and Blaine forced himself to relax, as he breathed through his nose. It always felt so foreign, letting someone touch him like this, but something about the way Kurt was doing it, gentler than Blaine had expected even when he had given him permission to be rough, made it better than any of the other times Blaine had done this.

Soon, Kurt was able to push a second finger in, followed by a third. He stretched Blaine carefully, teasing his prostate without giving him exactly what Blaine begged for, biting the firm skin of Blaine's asscheeks and soothing it with his tongue, distracting him, arousing him, perfectly.

Blaine had screwed his eyes shut, but when he heard the condom wrapper tearing open, he looked back over his shoulder to see Kurt rolling it on him, stroking himself a couple of times as he slicked his cock with a generous amount of lube. Blaine bit his lip and parted his legs a little wider, watching as Kurt shifted closer and lined up, ready to push inside...

It was the best kind of ache. Blaine felt immediately full, Kurt was so big inside of him. He was buried completely and holding on to Blaine's sides as he breathed deeply. And then he pulled out almost all the way, before thrusting back in, and Blaine wailed. All traces of gentleness disappeared as Kurt took him up on his word, fucking into Blaine hard and fast, fingers digging into his hips, probably leaving bruises that Blaine would be looking at all week.

At first it was paralyzing, how good it felt. Blaine's mouth was open, his jaw slack, and his eyes closed, and all he could do was take it, moaning every time Kurt pushed into him. But then his body wanted more, and Blaine couldn't understand how it could possibly be more, when this felt like everything, like so much already, and he started pushing back, bracing himself with his tight grip on the headboard, the muscles of his arms and legs straining as he pushed himself back, trying to get Kurt impossibly deeper, feeling him everywhere, he could feel him everywhere, it was so much, so good, so full...

Kurt leaned over his back, wrapping his arms around his chest, to kiss the back of his neck, and the new angle made Blaine cry out in pleasure and move his hips back a little faster. Kurt's thrusts became shorter, faster, harder, and they were both so close, they could feel it...

"K-Kurt," Blaine whined, his head falling forward, his breath going quicker, his moans growing more and more desperate.

Kurt moved one of his hands down to stroke Blaine, so hot and hard under his fingers, and Blaine was dizzy, unable to decide if he wanted to push back or forward more, if he needed Kurt's cock filling him so right, or Kurt's hand on him trying to fist his orgasm out of him more.

It turned out he didn't have to decide, there was no time for that. Kurt started pulsing inside of him, coming deep inside of him, as a high-pitched moan escaped from his lips, pressed to Blaine's shoulderblades. And that was enough, exactly what he needed, and with one last stroke, Blaine came as Kurt fucked him through his orgasm. His knuckles white from holding onto the headboard, completely sure he had gone blind and deaf for a moment, because everything disappeared, nothing existed but the pleasure buzzing through his body, making every inch of him tingle with it.

Blaine's knees finally gave out, and they both collapsed, panting hard. Blaine's face was buried on Kurt's pillow, and even if he'd been suffocating he wouldn't have been able to move. He was completely spent, boneless.

He finally rolled to the side, leaving room for Kurt to drop on the bed, and once again he kept his eyes closed. He knew that as soon as he was able to think and breathe, he would need to leave, and his throat was already tightening, wishing things were different, but still not regretting it...

He'd never felt this good in his life, but he still wanted to cry.

Kurt's fingers brushed his ribs gently and Blaine's eyes snapped open. Kurt was smiling lazily, eyes overwhelmingly blue once more, and staring right into Blaine's. "Hey."

"Hey," Blaine croaked, voice tired and mouth dry after moaning so much.

"You're too far away," Kurt mumbled, and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer. "Come here."

Blaine frowned, confused. "I... you..."

Kurt's smile fell. "Oh. Well. You can leave if you want. I just..."

"I thought you'd want me to leave..." Blaine licked his lips, and tentatively reached to touch Kurt's shoulder. "Was I wrong?"

The grin curving Kurt's mouth was a little sad. "You really think I'm a complete asshole, don't you?"

"Kurt," Blaine scooted closer, his backside already throbbing painfully, but he ignored it. "You think I would've done this if I thought you're an asshole?"

Kurt's fingers found their way into Blaine's hair, and he tried to loose the gel to free the curls that had survived until now. "I don't blame you."

Blaine sighed and kissed him, chaste and sweet. "I think you want to make people believe that you're an asshole, but I know you're not, even if you did trick me into believing it at the beginning..."

They stayed silent, simply gazing into each other's eyes for a moment, as their hearts went back to their normal pace and their chests stopped heaving. Blaine winced when he tried to shift to get more comfortable, and Kurt's hand flew to the small of his back, rubbing there comfortably.

"Are you okay?" He asked, a little worried.

"I'm great," Blaine reassured him. His hazel eyes searched deeper into his blue ones, and his hand moved to the back of Kurt's head to stroke the hairs at the nape of his neck. "How are you?"

Kurt sighed, and he only hesitated for a moment before snuggling against Blaine's chest. "You're not letting that go, are you?"

"Kurt," Blaine said gently, smiling down at him. "You don't have to tell me anything, and I told you I'd help in any way I can, but... I have to say, I'm a little worried."

Kurt closed his eyes and nodded very slowly. "Okay. Okay. But... can we... can we just stay like this for a little longer? I'll tell you everything, I just... I need some time."

Blaine wrapped his arms around him, pulled him closer, kissed his forehead. "Of course."

Neither had ever felt as safe as they felt in that moment.

*

It didn't take very long until they had fallen asleep, wrapped in each other and the comfortable silence they had built between them.

When Blaine woke up, he knew they hadn't actually slept for long - the sun was still coming in through the window, bright, warming up the room. He had probably only dozed off for a few minutes, but that had been enough for Kurt to slip out of bed unnoticed.

Blaine bit his lip, wondering where Kurt was, and if he had maybe ran out of the room at his first opportunity, if he had changed his mind and wanted Blaine gone, if...

Kurt entered the room, hair damp and brushed off his forehead, skin slightly pink from being under the shower spray, looking fresh and breathtakingly beautiful.

"You're awake," he said with a soft smile. He was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, and Blaine couldn't keep his eyes from roaming over all that pale skin on display.

"I am," Blaine confirmed with a smile of his own.

"You can take a shower too, if you want," Kurt offered, and then seemed a bit uncertain. "I can make coffee in the meantime, and we can talk, if... if you still want to?"

"I want to," Blaine stood up, fighting the urge to cover himself with his hands or tugging at the sheets to cover his naked body. He knew he was blushing, but he didn't want to look like an embarrassed virgin in front of Kurt.

"I left clean towels for you," Kurt said. "You can use whatever you want."

Kurt caught his wrist before Blaine could walk out of the room, turning him just enough so he could press their lips together, and they both kept their eyes open, eyelashes fluttering as they looked at each other in a way that made their insides twirl.

Once he was in the shower, Blaine took a moment to simply stand under the water, letting it hit his back, relaxing his muscles. He rested his forehead against the cold tiles, and tried not to think. It wasn't time to think, yet, not when Kurt needed him, when he was about to tell him something that was clearly important. He would think about himself later, when he was back home, when he could deal with his thoughts and his feelings alone.

There was an assortment of shampoos and conditioners, so many shower gels and creams that Blaine had no idea what they were for. He chose a random bottle of shampoo and washed his hair, immediately smiling when he could smell Kurt, and felt Kurt all around him.

He spent a few more minutes in there, washing the dried come off his stomach, and admiring the purple finger-shaped bruises already forming on his hipbones, before he stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in one of the towels that Kurt had left for him.

He walked out of the bathroom with his hair a mess of curls, but Blaine very well knew that it was hopeless without some gel. He kept the towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom to find his clothes.

Kurt was sitting on the bed, still in his underwear, though he had put on an undershirt, too. There were two cups of coffee on the bedside table, and their comforting scent was already filling the room.

With his back to Kurt, Blaine let the towel fall and stepped into his boxers, blushing furiously. He would never be the kind of guy who could walk around naked in front of a man, even if they had just slept together. There was something extremely vulnerable about standing completely bare in front of someone when their bodies weren't touching. Blaine wasn't a fan of being vulnerable...

"Come on, your coffee's going to go cold," Kurt said softly from the bed.

Blaine climbed back on the left side. Kurt had changed the sheets and folded the cover a little more neatly. Blaine wasn't sure how comfortable Kurt would be near him now, if he was allowed to touch him in any way or not, so he leaned against the pillows, sitting with his legs curled under himself, the way he always did when he was getting ready to start a new book he'd been dying to read for a while.

Kurt handed him one of the cups of coffee, as his eyes (now an impressive shade of green) fixed on his hair. Blaine tried to flatten it self-consciously.

"No, no," Kurt grabbed his hand to stop him, and then carefully ran his fingers through his damp curls. "I like it. You have beautiful hair, Blaine."

Blaine tried to hide his blush behind his coffee. "It's a mess..."

"It doesn't mean it can't be beautiful," Kurt shrugged and gave him a smile, small and bright all at the same time.

Blaine missed his fingers in his hair as soon as Kurt let his hand fall between them. He pulled his knees up to his chest, as if still trying to shield himself somehow, and took a sip of coffee, eyes still on Blaine, a bit wary.

"So..." Blaine whispered.

"So," Kurt echoed, glancing away, hands tightening around his cup. "Are you sure you want to hear about this? You don't have to, Blaine."

"I want to help," Blaine insisted, smiling encouragingly. "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

Kurt shook his head, and that air of defeat returned to him, making him seem paler in the sunlight. "I... I don't even know where to start."

"Why don't you start by telling me why you were so upset?" Blaine said gently.

Kurt sighed and put his cup of coffee down on the bedside table, before standing up and walking to the chair where he had put the clothes he had been wearing earlier, grabbing his jeans and searching in its pockets until he found what he was looking for. He went back to the bed, extended a white envelope to Blaine, who took it with a frown, and resumed his position with his knees to his chest and his coffee in a tight grip between his hands.

Blaine reached for his glasses before opening the envelope, extracting a single sheet of paper, and he glanced at Kurt for confirmation one last time.

"Go ahead," Kurt muttered, and Blaine began to read.

Dear Kurt,

I miss you. I think that's the perfect way to start this letter, because... I do. I really miss you, and everyday I wish you were still here with me. For so long I've tried to contact you, to talk to you, but my emails never got a reply, and you never picked up your phone. Every time I went to Ohio, I looked for you, but I guess you didn't want to be found.

Finn gave me your house address – but please don't be mad at him. He only did it because I begged endlessly, and because he knows you could use a friend. And I'm still your friend, Kurt, I'll always be your friend.

I love New York, but when I'm walking around the city, nothing feels right, because you're not there with me. I've made new friends, and I've met lots of people in these past few years, but I always feel empty, because no one can replace you, there's no one who can fill the best-friend shoes quite like you. No one's as fabulous as you are, and I hope you still remember that.

I wanted you to know (you were the first person I wanted to tell, the only one who would ever understand what this means, and it was so sad knowing I couldn't just run to our apartment to see you) that I finally, finally got my very first lead on Broadway. I'm going to be Elphaba, Kurt. I don't think I still believe it – I feel like I'm going to wake up from a dream and realize I'm still singing Wicked songs with you, fantasizing about being on stage. After so many years of auditioning, of off-off-off Broadway plays, of playing characters with barely any lines... I've made it. And the most important person I want to share this with, is you.

That is why I'm including two tickets for my opening night, and I hope that when I go out on stage, I'll see your face in the audience. I need you to be there, Kurt.

I know you think dreams can't be more than just dreams. I know you gave up on them a long time ago, but I still believe in you. Every single day I wake up knowing how talented and amazing you are, and every night I go to bed praying you'll remember it too.

Please, think about it. It would mean a lot to me to see you here.

I need you, I miss you, I love you,

Rachel.

Blaine finished reading and looked up at Kurt, who was looking down into his coffee cup intently. "I don't understand..."

"She says I gave up," Kurt muttered in a voice barely high enough for Blaine to hear him. "And she's absolutely right."

"But... why?" Blaine tilted his head to the side and just managed to stop himself from scooting closer to Kurt.

Kurt took a deep breath, and it was evident it took a huge effort for him to talk about this. Blaine couldn't help but feel honored that he was the person Kurt was opening up to. "When I was a senior in high school, I applied to NYADA. I wanted to be a performer, I wanted to be on a Broadway stage... but I didn't get in. Rachel did, and she left, she went to New York and I stayed here, working for my dad. But then he somehow convinced me to go to New York anyway, to follow my dreams, and I did. I moved to New York, moved in with Rachel, and I started applying to interships and a couple more schools for the second semester..."

Kurt paused, took a sip of coffee, avoided Blaine's eyes. Blaine ached to reach for his hand.

"Nothing worked. I didn't get any of the internships and I didn't get into the other schools," Kurt swallowed and Blaine knew he was holding back tears. "So after a few months of failing at everything, I came back to Ohio."

"Kurt..."

"I wasn't a good enough performer to be on Broadway, and I wasn't good enough in fashion to get an internship, either," Kurt rolled his eyes and a few tears escaped down his cheeks. He laughed bitterly. "I mean, what was I thinking? Going to New York, a city so full of talented people, thinking I could make it? I was delusional..."

"Kurt, don't..."

"I was, Blaine!" Kurt exploded, the tears now furiously falling down his face. He wiped them away carelessly. "For years I was convinced I was better than anyone else in this town, than the idiots pushing me around in school, and it turns out, I wasn't! The only thing I've ever wanted was to leave Lima and never look back, and here I still am! I had to come back because I couldn't stand facing more rejection, not in the one place I thought I would be accepted, in the one place I was supposed to fit in! New York was my dream and my haven while I survived high school, and I was wrong."

"There's still time, Kurt," Blaine hurried to say, this time shifting closer, putting his mug down to hold one of Kurt's hands on his own. "There's always time, you could..."

"No. there's no more time. I'm done wasting my time with silly, naïve dreams, Blaine. I'm twenty eight, I'm not a kid anymore..." Kurt looked down, hugged his knees closer, squeezed Blaine's hand in his. "I have a job, a house and bills to pay."

"Can you honestly tell me that this is how you want to spend the rest of your days? Kurt... you're still young," Blaine stroked his hair, cupped his cheek, and forced him to look at him. "You can still try. If you don't try..."

"If I don't try, there's no more disappointment," Kurt interrupted in a firm, hash tone. "Okay, maybe I hate my life, maybe I need to find a reason to actually get up every morning and it's getting harder and harder every day, but life isn't ever easy. Life isn't what you plan when you're a kid. Do you think I wanted to work in construction? No, of course not. But I had a chance and I had to take it, because I couldn't live with my parents anymore. It isn't what I want, it'll never be what I want, but... Blaine, dreams change, dreams die..."

Blaine could feel a lump forming in his throat. He'd had it rough, he'd been lonely... but the pain in Kurt's words, in Kurt's face... it was completely heartbreaking. "Then what's your dream now?"

"I don't have one," Kurt answered. "They're useless. They're pointless. They only make reality feel like a temporary thing, but then nothing changes, and you only feel worse about yourself..."

"I wish you didn't feel like that," Blaine said sadly, moving closer, not giving a damn about precaution, and just snuggling against Kurt's side. "I'm not saying life isn't hard... but it isn't as awful as you make it sound."

Kurt didn't reply, and Blaine sighed. He just dropped his head on Kurt's shoulder, hoping his warmth would be somehow comforting, but knowing it wasn't enough.

"How did you end up with this job?" He asked after a couple of minutes.

"It sort of fell on my lap," Kurt muttered, one of his arms moving to wrap around Blaine, as he put his own coffee cup on the nightstand. "One of my dad's neighbors needed help fixing a few things in her house. She was an old lady, and she had always been decent to me, so I offered. I needed the money, anyway. Then she recommended me to a friend... and then another... and it sort of started like that. I learned how to do more complicated things and I got a few more jobs..."

Blaine cleared his throat. He wasn't sure he was allowed to bring this up, but he wanted to know... "Your dad... he told me you don't usually work for people who treat you right..."

"Oh, yeah. I knew it would be a bad idea for you to be alone with him," Kurt sighed tiredly. "Well, I'm a gay construction worker in Ohio. I dress in Marc Jacobs and Alexander McQueen. Of course they don't think I'm normal."

"You said you only dress like that when you go to your parents' place and at your own house," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah. After a while, I realized it was easier being... less me. It kept me out of trouble, and it was hard enough getting steady jobs without people judging me as soon as they saw me. So I decided to keep it simple."

Kurt's voice was flat, indifferent, but Blaine could still hear the hurt behind it. Kurt had had to give up everything: his dreams, the city he loved, even who he was. Blaine couldn't imagine how that must've felt to him. No wonder he was so bitter and disappointed. What kind of life was he living?

Without even giving it a second thought, Blaine pushed Kurt down until he was lying on his back, and moved to lie on top of him, covering him with his body, and lacing their fingers together above Kurt's head. He kissed him, sweet and slow, until he felt Kurt relaxing under him.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered against his lips. "I wish I could take away all of your sadness and make it all better."

Kurt brought one of Blaine's hands to his mouth and softly kissed his knuckles. "You're the only person who's gotten this close to me in years. You're already making it better by listening."

As Blaine moved forward for another kiss, he thought it still wasn't enough.

He wanted to do more than listen.