“God, Kurt I am so happy to see you,” Blaine burst out as he threw his arms around the boy in front of him. He could feel all of his insides trembling and all of his reality crumple under his feet as he felt Kurt lock his arms around his waist.

He let it all out. Let all of the tears run down his cheeks, soaking the collar of Kurt’s blue blouse, sobbing hysterically - not a care in the world of how he looked or sounded. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Let’s go inside. You’re getting cold,” Kurt said after Blaine’s sobbing started to grow silent. Kurt let a hand brush up his back, and unlocked Blaine’s arms softly from his neck.

“How? Why? When?” Blaine spat out, not knowing that he was being incoherent in his stream of questions.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s go inside and we’ll talk,” Kurt crooned as he let a thumb dry away a tear from his cheek.

Blaine led him to the living room, abruptly hit by a feeling of being extremely pathetic for having been lying on the couch all day doing nothing.

Kurt switched on the lamp over the coffee table and it slowly bathed the furniture in a yellow, artificial light.

He wasn’t bringing much with him. Only a light bag made of hemp, decorated with colorful, psychedelic patterns and political pins. He was wearing tight blue jeans that was rolled up to show of his ankles, and a dusty blue tunic with purple flowers swaying perfectly around his torso. Naturally he was barefoot. Blaine would never expect it to be any different.

Blaine sat down on the couch, making room for Kurt to sit next to him, but Kurt merely dumped down to sit on the floor next to the sofa instead.

“You can sit on the couch. It’s okay,” Blaine said, a little confused about why he needed assurance for sitting on the couch, but waited for Kurt to come join him.

“No. You should come sit with me. On the floor. You’ll like it,” Kurt answered, as if Blaine was crazy to think that he would actually willingly sit on a couch.

Blaine hesitated, but after being perplexed for a brief moment he crawled down to sit next to Kurt on the floor.

“Can you feel it? This is how we’re supposed to be,” Kurt said, and then he changed to a very serious expression, and reached out to take Blaine’s hand. His palms were even softer and warmer than Blaine remembered.

“I’m really sorry about your mom. I don’t wanna force you into talking about it - but I couldn’t just leave you alone. If you want to you can talk to me.” His eyes were big and glistening with the lamp reflected as a twisted shine in his eyes.

“Where’s you dad?” Kurt hurried over the words, like he was afraid what it would do to Blaine that he opened the subject.

“He’s out of town for work. He’ll be back Monday. You can stay here with me… if you want.” Blaine wasn’t really sure if Kurt had expected that he could randomly crash at the Anderson house, but something inside Blaine told him that Kurt hadn’t even considered that - it wasn’t of any importance. The only thing that mattered was that Blaine needed him to be there.

“Thank you. As long as your dad doesn’t kick me out,” Kurt replied. A smile broadened on his lips and Blaine was unsure if he had just made one of his rare jokes.

“He won’t. I’ll just tell him you’re a friend -” Blaine said, observing a confounded look spread across Kurt’s face. His brows furrowed and his eyes turned pensive.

“But… isn’t that what I am? What else would I be?” he asked, in all seriousness, sweeping Blaine off his feet.

His palms felt clammy and his throat felt like it was tying up. Why would he go ask that sort of question?

“I… don’t know,” he stuttered, afraid of saying too much or too little.

He suddenly remembered the soft feeling of the tip of Kurt’s tongue against his own. The thought made his face blush and looked around the living room in a desperate hope that Kurt hadn’t seen it.

“You cut your hair. I missed your soft curls, and then when I see you they’re all gone. But it wasn’t your decision, so I understand,” Kurt noticed with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Blaine had to struggle with all the strength he contained to suppress a burning urge to move in and let his lips meet Kurt’s, to let his fingers into the soft James Dean reflection of his hair and pull Kurt’s face so close to his own that it would almost hurt.

Out of nowhere Kurt stood up, looking down on Blaine who was still sitting on the floor, with his naked toes brushing lightly against Kurt‘s.

“You look tired. I’m sure you’re exhausted. Your last few days must have been horrible. We should get you to bed,” he exclaimed and grabbed Blaine’s hand to get him on his feet as well.

Blaine clenched to Kurt’s hand as they walked upstairs. For some reason it wasn’t so terrible to walk past the bedroom with Kurt holding his hand.

Kurt didn’t wait for an invitation. The first thing he did when they entered the room was crawl onto the bed and curl up to a ball that reminded Blaine of a playful kitten.

“If you come lie down I can cuddle your hair till you sleep,” Kurt offered, his voice melodic and inviting.

Blaine didn’t wait long until he was lying down next to Kurt. He pushed away all thoughts of his father, and let himself lay down on the pillow where he let Kurt put the bedspread over him like he had been a child, before he started letting his fingers play with what was left of Blaine’s curls.

It felt so true and natural that the only thing that could make it better was when Kurt started silently humming in his ear.

Blaine didn’t know the melody and he didn’t care, because it was beautiful and soothing, and it made him feel like the pressing on his chest got relieved for the first time.

*

When Blaine woke up Saturday morning Kurt wasn’t in the bed and he panicked. What if he had just wished so bad for Kurt to be there that his brain had forged a dream so vivid that he was convinced it had been true.

But he could smell the characteristic fragrance of summer rain on his bedspread, and he could see that the spot next to him was ruffled. Maybe Kurt had really been there.

But then where was he now?

Blaine hurried out of the bed and changed his shirt before he ran downstairs. He looked around in all of the rooms in the house, until he realized that the French doors in the living room leading to the garden was open.

He stepped out on the tiles of the terrace. The sun had heated them to feel comfortable walking barefooted on even though it was September. Blaine let his eyes over the garden furniture but still not a clue as to where Kurt had gone, until he let his gaze search over the lawn where he found Kurt sitting in the middle of a sunbeam, clearly meditating.

He didn’t want to interrupt him, but at the same time he felt himself drawn to him. Like he had to cross the grass and sit down to watch him, observe him, take in every piece of him.

He decided to sit down a few feet from Kurt, doing his best to not make the tiniest sound that could pull him out of his concentration. Instead he sat down with eyes locked on Kurt’s face. Blaine thought he looked so peaceful that it could have been the face of an angel.

“Is it true? What your mom wrote in that letter?” Kurt suddenly asked, his expression still peaceful without even opening his eyes, but he startled Blaine so much that he felt his heart race in his chest.

How did he know that I’m here? Blaine thought.

Kurt opened his eyes, and once again Blaine felt like they were penetrating his soul.

“I’m sorry. It was on the coffee table and I couldn’t help seeing my name. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have looked -” Kurt apologized, for the first time ever seeming embarrassed.

Blaine knew that if anyone had seen it and read that letter he would get hysterically angry. It was private. It was the last piece of his mom he had left. But somehow he felt relieved, in some way, that Kurt had read it. He wanted to share everything with Kurt - even his most private secrets.

“I never told her anything. I just told her that I had met some new friends, and then I mentioned you. Told her… what you taught me. About life, and everything -” Blaine said, unsure if he was trying to reason for her words.

Kurt crawled on hands and knees over the grass, looking even more like a cat than ever - even when he was crawling like this he was graceful like a tiger.

Suddenly there wasn’t more than an inch between their faces, and their noses almost touched.

“Stardust - a mother always knows her child’s heart,” Kurt silked, letting his sweet breath smooth its way over Blaine’s lips and to his mouth where it was caressing his taste buds and made him feel like a summer breeze was running through his windpipe to his lungs - he was certain that Kurt was going to kiss him, and he felt like his mouth in one time started watering and dried up.

Kurt craned his neck a little, their lips so close that Blaine could feel them, taste them, without actually touching, and Blaine prepared himself to welcome Kurt’s kiss - before Kurt jumped to his feet.

“Can we get something to eat? I’ve been awake since sunrise, and I’m starting to get a little hungry. Just a lil’ bit.”

He wrinkled his nose in a way that Blaine couldn’t help finding incredibly adorable, and even though his lips were pounding to feel Kurt’s and the blood was pulsing through him in frustration he stood up too.

“Of course. Let’s go have a look,” Blaine agreed in a thick voice, desperate to cover up his disappointment. He walked towards the kitchen, feeling Kurt trip gracefully on tiptoes behind him, like he was dancing over the grass.

*

They didn’t leave the house at all throughout the entire weekend.

Blaine called the cleaning lady and asked her to bring groceries with her so they could have something to eat until his father got back home - he just wasn’t ready to go out and face the people of Lima where he indisputably would have to explain everything before his father even knew.

Blaine would lie on the couch and read while Kurt would tiptoe around the living room and dance in a dreamlike state, or look at all of the pictures that decorated the walls.

Every now and then he would stand still, almost like a statue, and Blaine would wonder if something was wrong, and Kurt would snap out of the moment and continue dancing before leaning down behind Blaine to whisper “you were a beautiful child filled with love” before continuing his trip around the room, Blaine sitting back feeling his ears grow red, but unable to stop himself from grinning.

They lost track of time, and before they knew it the sun was starting to set, and the room was bathed in a red and golden shine.

Blaine was on the couch playing guitar, letting his fingers find their own ways, not really doing an effort to play anything in particular, just letting his fingers be in control.

Kurt walked over, soundless as if on cat paws - movements just as graceful - and let himself slide from the back over the backrest and down to sit on the couch so close to Blaine that their thighs were almost painful against each other, Kurt slipping his legs effortlessly under Blaine’s arm with the guitar.

He sat staring for a few minutes, switching his gaze between Blaine’s face and his hands and fingers moving over the strings, Blaine quietly humming along with the melody.

“Teach me,” Kurt implored from one second to another.

Blaine glanced at him in surprise, not having seen this request coming. Kurt’s eyes were begging and his entire face was washed over by anticipation.

“Please. It’s so beautiful when you do it, and I just wanna… feel - what you feel,” Kurt entreated, something close to a sadness starting to well out and take over his pupils.

“Okay - let’s… let’s try then,” Blaine said and awkwardly reached out to take Kurt’s hand and place it on the wood, making his fingers slide over Kurt’s to let him get the right grip.

“It’s harder than it looks,” Kurt chuckled under his breath.

“No, it’s actually really simple. Besides, I doubt that there’s anything you can’t do -” Blaine bit his lower lip; that was inappropriate. He meant it though; he couldn’t imagine that there was anything Kurt couldn’t do.

Kurt’s cheeks flushed a little, and he pushed Blaine teasingly with his shoulder. Kurt’s fingers moved shockingly stiff over the strings and Blaine started to think that he had actually found something Kurt couldn’t do.

“Ugh. I’m hopeless,” Kurt groaned and let his hand drop with a defeated sigh. He sunk down and leaned against the backrest, dragging his feet up with his head bobbing over to look at Blaine.

“You’re not hopeless,” Blaine objected, and he feelt hurt that Kurt could say such a thing about himself. He put his guitar down and turned to face Kurt.

“I’ve played since I was a kid. But… there are so many other things you’re good at,” Blaine encouraged him, trying his best to convince Kurt with his eyes.

“What do you think I’m good at, Blaine?” Kurt asked hazily, Blaine almost confused when he said his real name - he didn’t remember when it was the last time Kurt had done that.

“You’re… good at making me feel better. A lot. You’re good at - making me forget all the stuff that blows, and you’re good at making me smile. You’re good at… being you,” Blaine blabbered out, instantly feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to restrain himself.

“I’m glad,” Kurt said, looking astounded, but appreciative.

“I wouldn’t know how to be anyone else.” He smiled softly, and Blaine’s stomach took a turn.

They sat for a while; staring at each other, into each others eyes, until Kurt had another spontaneous idea and grabbed Blaine’s wrist to lead him to the kitchen.

“What are we doing now?” Blaine asked, not really following Kurt’s new plan.

“We’re going to play a game…” Kurt beamed and started to excitedly explain his game.

Blaine followed willingly, by now he was sure that he would gladly do anything Kurt could ever ask him for.

Next Blaine found himself on his bed, his room dark and a tie used as a blindfold. Kurt was sitting on the bed in front of him with a plate of different kinds of fruits and vegetables he had found in the kitchen, and the rule was that Blaine wasn’t allowed to look - he should just taste.

Kurt started feeding him of the things from the plate, one thing at a time, and Blaine was surprised at how strong the different smells and tastes were when he couldn’t see them. It was almost scary how much his eyesight could hold his other senses back. It was a sensation he had never tasted anything like.

At first he felt handicapped by the blindfold, but after he got used to it he started to let his other senses take over, and he felt liberated and let his shoulders relax.

He didn’t know how long he spent with the tie covering his eyes, but when he heard Kurt giggle at him, felt his fingers on his arm and his scent in his nostrils he was sure that he could easily do it a little longer.

But it was when Kurt’s fingertips accidentally brushed his lips it was hardest - he wanted to grab his hand and hold it still so he could kiss the delicate skin.

After the urge had overwhelmed him a few times he asked Kurt to stop. He didn’t want to screw anything up, so he thought it better to end the game before his newly found connection to his senses was going to trick him into doing something that potentially could end very bad.

Blaine excused himself with being tired, so they cleaned up and went to bed. Blaine made sure to keep a little distance to Kurt, but still allowing him to sleep in his bed. He was afraid that if he could feel Kurt close to him in the dark he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

*

The sun was desperately fighting a battle to break through the closed shades of Blaine’s room and it made him flinch his eyes and nose as one sunbeam had fallen in love with his face.

The first thing that met him when he finally caved in and opened his eyes was Kurt’s blue gaze.

He didn’t know why, but the second he comprehended that Kurt was lying in front of him and stared at him a feeling of protection turned up to quickly get mixed with an overwhelming feeling of sorrow.

He had lost so much lately, and he hadn’t even talked to Kurt about any of it.

“Can we just… stay in bed and talk, today?” Blaine asked, hoping that this wouldn’t affect any plans Kurt might have.

“Sure. Of course. What do you wanna talk about?” he asked, as empathetic as ever.

“I don’t know. Just… stuff. Whatever crosses our mind -” Blaine responded awkwardly. He honestly didn’t know what he wanted to talk about. He just needed to talk.

Kurt shuffled a bit, to get closer, but still a foot between them - it seemed like Kurt thought that Blaine didn’t want to be close to him. But that was exactly the point; he wanted to be close to him, needed to be close.

“It was supposed to be a big secret - so naturally everyone knew that Lucy went home because she’s pregnant,” Kurt started out, flinching by the thought, and hurried to proceed.

“And then everyone said that… you were the father. Of Lucy’s baby. And that’s why you had to go together.” Kurt stopped and closed his eyes, Blaine finding it impossible to figure out what was going on in his head.

“Jesus. You turn your back one second and everyone starts talking about you,” Blaine burst out, afraid to say something incredibly offensive. He felt anger bubbling in him. Quinn hadn’t wanted anyone to know, and yet someone had blabbered it out to everyone. Probably Ginger.

“So it’s true then? You’re the father of Lucy’s baby,” Kurt nearly whispered under his breath, Blaine feeling him move a little away from him.

“What? No! Not at all. I never…” Blaine panicked in his search for words to convince Kurt that this was in no way true. He would, for all in the world,  not have Kurt think that he had ever been involved with Quinn in that way.

“Kurt, listen - I… trust you. More than anyone in the world. I tell you everything. If I had been with her you would’ve known. Don’t you remember what I told you? Quinn isn’t a girl for me.”

Blaine didn’t know why it bothered him so much. It should be enough to just laugh and say that it wasn’t true and that people’s rumors were ridiculous - but he felt desperate and frantic to explain, to let Kurt know that it was not true.

“I… I wanna tell you everything. And that’s why I should tell you that I’m not in love with Quinn. I… I’m in love with someone else. I think. But I’m not sure. I don’t know if I am. I’m very confused about it.”

He had no idea where that came from. He wasn’t in love with anyone. He had never been in love, and he sure wasn’t know. If he was he would know it for sure. Wouldn’t he?

He couldn’t look at Kurt. It was way too awkward. Instead he blinked and tried to focus on the patterns on the dark sheets.

“If it matters so much to you that it confuses you, then it must be love. Nothing but love can make a person confused to the fullest. It is a part of the process of falling in love. But when you are ready, you will know,” Kurt crooned with his voice soft as ever and stars dancing around his corneas.

His skin was so incredibly pale, and the contrast to the dark blue sheets and the dark room made him look almost luminous, and Blaine noticed that a light pink had spread in his cheeks. He looked so soft and sweet. As if a flighty touch would make all ones worries disappear in the moment.

“Quinn was afraid to tell her parents. I kept pushing for her to do it, but she wouldn’t. She wanted some guy in town to get her a non-professional abortion. She begged me to go with her, but I refused. I told her it was stupid and dangerous,” Blaine started telling, hoping they could get off the subject of him possibly being in love - that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

“One day she called my house. She was crying, and almost having hysterics. I almost couldn’t understand what she was saying. I ran to her house and… there was blood everywhere, so I called an ambulance. They took her to the hospital, and the doctor said that she had a miscarriage because of stress.”

Blaine remembered how scared he had been when he ran to Quinn’s house - but even more when he had entered the kitchen and seen all the blood.

“A few days after she sent me a letter. Her parents shipped her off to some girls school. I don’t know where, I don’t know anything.”

He felt a pressuring on his temples and a knot forming in his throat. Kurt reached up his hand and placed it on Blaine’s wrist between their chests.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. It could never be your fault.” Once again Kurt seemed to be reading his mind. Like he had some sort of direct line to his thoughts.

“Yeah. You turned her down. But you never told her to go be with someone else. She’s a silly girl, who doesn’t think clearly. She had unprotected sex with God knows who. What you did was the right thing. You were noble - a hero.” Kurt let his thumb stroke soothingly over his wrist, his eyes forcing their way into Blaine’s soul.

“And the same with your mom. She loved you, and knew that you love her. She was sick, there was nothing you could have done.”

And just like that Blaine’s heart dropped to the floor, and felt it was being stepped on, or dissolving to a puddle of blood on the carpet.

He hadn’t told Kurt anything about what happened with his mom, and yet it seemed like he knew everything. How did he know?

It was Kurt. He just knew.

Always.

“Tell me what happened. Please.” He meant it. He looked like eternal happiness depended on it. Like he desperately needed to hear it, or his entire world would go black.

Blaine closed his eyes, inhaled heavily, and exhaled as he opened again. He wasn’t ready to talk about it. He would never be. But it was Kurt who asked - he wanted him to know every single detail about his life. No matter how big or small.

“You know she was sick. When I came home she… wasn’t really herself. She seemed distant. We talked and so but… she cried a lot. She would say that she had a headache and needed to lie down, and then go to the bedroom to cry. I wanted to go comfort her but… I didn’t know what to do. So I just left her there. I just… let her cry alone. And then… the other day, I came home from the record store and - I finally decided to go in there. And she was… so cold.” Big, fat tears were rolling down his face, warm and salty on his lips. His nose was clogging up and he felt his face go hot.

“You’re the strongest person I ever met,” Kurt whispered and tightened his grip around Blaine’s wrist. He craned his neck to kiss Blaine’s cheek - kiss his tears away.

“I think you’re a hero, and I think you’re beautiful,” Kurt whispered, nearly inaudible.

Blaine had not seen that coming. He would never have expected Kurt to make a superficial statement like that. But what if this wasn’t a superficial statement? What if he actually meant it - in that way that only Kurt talked?

“I think you’re beautiful. You’re my hero. You saved me from myself,” Blaine said through tears, wishing that he was able to hold himself back. That had got to be the most ridiculous thing he had ever said to anyone.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Kurt exclaimed frightened.

“We need to get you to think about something else. Your dad will be back tomorrow, so you should do all the things you’ve always dreamed of doing but couldn’t because your parents were watching over you.”

He sat up in the bed, and looked down on Blaine. His hair was ruffled and his white blouse were stretched tightly over his chest. His muscles looked like they were threatening to break free from the fabric and Blaine couldn’t help seeing how it was almost see-through and his nipples were pointing excitedly through the soft cotton.

He looked completely different, and yet he was the same Kurt as always. Angelic, and dreamy - but a wide grin covering his face, flashing a set of perfect white teeth.