The first couple wintery months of the New Year aren't as dull and miserable and freezing as usually expected. The weather isn't nearly as cool, or damp as predicted at the warmer weather and kinder temperature helps to ease and heighten spirits and moral.

Work schedules are busy as expected however and along with the whole mania of New York, Kurt and Blaine find themselves thrown –head first- into events and meetings left, right and center.

The hot new designer's competition final had been televised over the holiday period and Kurt is now full swing into his ‘mentor' mode, travelling all around the city. His key responsibility is basically just to show his face here and there and with the help of a fabulously prepped team of professionals they are to coach the lovely Miss Jen Osborne, who had pipped the others to the post with her unique pro-nature, go-green designs.

For Valentines day this year, there is a live one-off show scheduled to air on Fashion TV which is basically just a variety of models, designers and celebrities of all kinds who are there to talk about the most romantic day of the year and how style and culture can be incorporated-overall just a bit of fun.

Kurt and his little protégé are lined up to be there with their team- including Blaine- Kurt's ever so helpful, supporting and loving personal assistant.

Blaine and Andre have been really putting in the hours in the studio since the beginning of the New Year and as a result a whole EP of music has been created from endless hours of simply experimenting and putting in the time and effort.

Andre has introduced Blaine to an array of professional personnel within ‘the business' all friendly enough and eager to join in with whatever it is Blaine and Andre had been working on. All excited and ready to get the ball rolling and get something lifting off of the ground. –All a little too ready if Blaine is being honest.

Word had sharp spread like wildfire around the tabloids and entertainment news blogs, about Blaine's new little sideline project and all of the keen and willing familiar big house names who are wanting to participate. Now whenever Blaine ventures outside the questions thrown at him aren't to do with his and Kurt's personal life like usual, but things more like;

‘Blaine is it true that you're leaving Kurt?'

‘Mr Anderson, would you consider yourself more successful than Mr Hummel now?'

‘Blaine is there something or somebody else more important in your life currently?'

It's endless and tiring as usual but it's something they had both expected and are ready to embrace-together.

As long as they are together, they firmly believe that they conquer anything.

*

“Sources say that Blaine Anderson-once Kurt Hummel's devoted PA and live-in lover- may have found himself another love in the form of music composition and production. Blaine has teamed up with music mogul Andre Kahn to work on something together. But what we want to know is, what will this do to one of New York's hottest couples? Will he and Kurt separate or will they continue to make sweet music togeth-”

“Oh my god.” Blaine spits around a mouthful of toothpaste, stepping just outside the en suite enough to show Kurt his horrified expression before hurrying back inside to finish the job.

Kurt smirks, puts his cell phone down on the night stand and shuts off the lamp, snuggling back into the pillows of their bed with a yawn.

The slice of light coming from the conjoined bathroom disappears and Blaine stumbles out blearily, all damp frizzy hair, fresh faced and undeniably tired.

It was just gone Eleven when they both trudged over the threshold of the elevator in to their home. After a day of meetings, rehearsals, playing with Andre, more meetings, and a light dinner function in favour of a charitable children's fashion line auction- the two were undeniably beat.

And now after getting home, prepping for the next day and cleaning themselves up, it was just gone midnight.

“I thought the rule was not to go on those sites and read any of that crap.” Blaine mumbles, sliding under the covers next to Kurt who was curled up facing away from him, grinning sleepily into the pillowcase.

Blaine presses his forehead against the curve of Kurt's shoulder blade and slings an arm lazily over Kurt's hip, pulling his body close against him. Blaine kisses the back of Kurt's head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, the scent that always manages to bring him back home, bring his head out of its messy fuzz of thoughts and back to reality.

“That one was too good not to share.” Kurt mumbles in reply, humming as Blaine starts lazily rubbing his palm over his hipbone and abdomen , warm and soothingly. “Oh my god, the alarm is set for way too early tomorrow, or should I say this morning.” Kurt groans, eyes squeezing shut as he nestles back towards Blaine, not completely seductively, just at ease. Blissful ease. 

Blaine grumbles sleepily, and Kurt drums his fingers in a light rhythmic pattern over Blaine's wrist, under the warm cocoon of their bed covers.

“Maybe Sam could stop off at that place on the way tomorrow morning, you know the one with those bagels and that coffee syrup you like, and I could maybe treat you to breakfast to help wake up before we hit the make-up truck-”  

Kurt stops as Blaine stiffens against his back. An obvious tension and question hanging in the silence. “You know you're coming tomorrow right? You remember? They would maybe like to interview you too, we talked about this, you cleared your schedule-”

Blaine's eyelids though as heavy as they are, wrench themselves open, he bites back a groan. “Yes I did, I cleared my schedule, I'm so sorry Kurt, my head's been all over, I should have told you earlier, I said that I'd meet with this guy first thing tomorrow morning that Andre wants me to-”

“Blaine.” Kurt bristles in front of him, his curled position turning rigid. 

“I'll be there as soon as I can Kurt. You won't need me there, first thing.” Blaine sounds maybe a little too dismissive and distant than planned.

The drumming stops and Blaine pulls his hand back as Kurt slowly starts to twist around, propping himself up on an elbow, angling his head back over his shoulder.

The bedroom is dark with a dull spread of moonlight shadowing the blinds and curtains up at the window. Blaine can just make out the seriousness etched across the planes of Kurt's beautiful face. It may be late, they may be dog-tired but this isn't ending without a fight, it appears.

Blaine sighs deeply, throws himself on his back, his hands rubbing at his eyes. “Kurt, I had to cancel coffee with this kid that Andre wanted me to meet the other day, because I had to cover that pitch meeting because you were off gallivanting around the city with your-”

“Gallivanting? Gallivanting, really Blaine? I was working. You know? Work?” Kurt is sitting up now, his back straight and rigid and tense, his head tilted to the side towards Blaine but still not quite meeting his eye.

Blaine heaves himself up sitting so that they're shoulder to shoulder, barely brushing. “Yes of course I know work, what do you think I've been doing for the past three months, and double the load? Let alone the past year. And what is that even supposed to mean Kurt?” He asks quietly, his voice low and measured, he's too tired for this shit. They never fight before bed, they never fight at all, not since their relationship became more than what it was, but this is too much to ignore.

“Nothing, forget it.”

“Kurt?” Blaine's hand lifts and reaches out towards Kurt almost instinctually, but then he drops it again, falling back down to the mattress beside their bodies.

“Don't-just, forget it Blaine. I need you there tomorrow ok.” Kurt cuts him off, his tone sharp and cool.

“Of course you do.” Blaine mumbles, eyes wide, his hand flying to his mouth but he'd already said it. He didn't mean that, he didn't, not like that, when they're like this.

These two share the same sense of humour and at any other time Kurt would have laughed it off with him, knowing deep down what Blaine had truly meant with the comment.

Kurt is rather reliant on Blaine and doesn't make that much of a secret about it, but right now saying as much out loud and in that tone really isn't helping matters.

Kurt turns sharply, facing him and when Blaine dares a peek up at him he's not met with a look of anger like he'd expected. He's met with a look of hurt. Fuck.

It's funny how easy and how in such a short space of times little bugbears can creep up on you, meddling their way in through little cracks and causing caverns in their wake.

They had never thought that this would become a problem, they are too integrally wired, too connected for anything to come between them. They had this planned out, this is what they both had wanted, both had worked for. Yet here in the quiet comfort of their bed, something just wasn't working.

“What?” Kurt's voice is quiet and a little hollow and even though the word had been phrased as a question Blaine knows not too answer it.

“Look Kurt,” Blaine sighs, sitting still and numb whilst Kurt continues to face away from him, staring at the wall. Blaine tries to ignore the pang of guilt in his stomach and the rise of panic in his throat. “I know that you pay me for this, that this is what I do, but you-you wanted me to do this, this thing with Andre, I though that you- you understood-”

There's a tiny soft, choked off sound from the other side of the bed, and Blaine stops.

“Kurt?” Blaine tries again, his voice a little thick. This time he lets his hand raise to land softly against Kurt's shoulder, trying to tug him softly towards him, into his waiting embrace.

Kurt merely shrugs it off and sinks back down into the sheets and pillows, scooting himself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible. “Night, Blaine.”

Blaine is much too exhausted to try and do anything more tonight. He melts back into the mattress, folding himself the other way and lets his eyes fall closed, sending him into a restless sleep.

*

“So Kurt, tell us what inspired these designs you've got here today for us, inspiration as well as Luuurve of course?” The presenter says, giggling and smiling brightly with her microphone angled towards Kurt's face.

Her bleached blonde hair is curled into tight ringlets bobbing around her face and the plunged neckline of her Scarlett red dress is probably just a tad inappropriate.

It's not her fault, Kurt supposes. Like everyone else in this industry, they all get made up this way and paid to do this, paid to pose and smile and act. Like just hours ago when Kurt had found himself hauled into a make up chair with little powder brushes coming at him from every angle. It's all for the camera's after all.

Kurt bites his lip softly and with expert timed precision moulds his facial features into something more light and soft, something more believable and then jumps into his rehearsed ramble.

He'd merely thrown together some cuts of fabric and material in different variations of vibrant and amorous styles and colours to bring today. The plan is to show them off today on the show and then auction them off or just give them away. He couldn't really care less to be honest.

The marquee where the show is being recorded has been erected just off of Times Square. A quarter of the city has been cordoned off and shut down in preparation for it, and even some of the folks from Vogue over at The Conde Nast building have been along to join in with the event.

The overly large tent is white on the outside and all dark reds and purples on the inside with silk and voile drapes hung from each corner in soft pastel shades of pink. There are spotlights everywhere and camera's and bits of equipment wherever you turn, all pointed towards the small love heart shaped stage where the presenting will take place.

There is pink champagne pretty much on tap, oversized vases of brilliant red roses in every crevice and a little kitchenette is set up in the corner where the most recent winner of Master Chef is busy cooking up a storm with fancy little French finger foods.  

Kurt can't muster why people are so crazy about this freaking holiday? It's just a day.

He's only doing this at all, because of part of his contract he'd agreed upon as part of his role as mentor for young Jen- who had knocked the ball out of the park today with her Valentines themed accessories, all made out of recyclables and second-hand fabrics.

Kurt talks with much rehearsed zeal until a little voice from his in-ear piece tells them to wrap it up so that they can cut for an ad break, and then he's being carted off towards the back stage area, into the green room.

Santana greets him with a perky, encouraging smile and a tilt of her champagne flute. She came along for moral support and for the fact that she would never say no to freebies and publicising herself. Sam acknowledges him from over on the couch with a nod of his head before returning back to texting on his phone. And that's it, nobody else around.

Kurt had woken to an empty bed that morning, just the sounds of the shower running next door. Down in the kitchen after he'd fed Jester and made a jar of coffee, Blaine had came hurrying into the room, dressed sharply with a harried look on his face, but with nothing to say. After Sam had buzzed to announce his arrival downstairs, eager to beat the busy morning rush hour traffic, Blaine had set his coffee mug down on the counter and had made to move- only to be told to sit and stay sternly by Kurt, like a dog.

And that had been the last time they'd seen or spoken to each other.

Kurt narrows his eyes at Sam, a multitude of thoughts and wonderings running through his head as to who he's actually texting. And if it is who Kurt thinks it may be then Kurt doesn't even want to know anyway. He slumps down into a chair with a huff and waits until he's called upon again for his next segment.

It's not exactly that Blaine was necessarily needed here today with great importance. It's just that Blaine had been invited along to join as part of the fun, and there was going to be a section where they interview partners and spouses and quiz them on their know-how of their other half. Fun.

This is something that Kurt wouldn't have ever dreamed of taking part in before he'd met Blaine. Before he grew comfortable in his own skin and that of somebody else's also. But now he has Blaine. Blaine who makes him feel so much, makes him want so much, makes him want more, things he never knew he could have. Blaine who gives him douses of comfort and confidence just by merely standing by his side without even knowing it.

This was something he knew he could do with Blaine by his side, a little private piece of themselves that they can show and give to people, and now Blaine's not even here. Blaine didn't want to be here. How's that for full circle?

“Um, Kurt?” Kurt pulls his eyes away from the little TV screen where he's been tiredly watching the action from out in the main tent, a flute of champagne balanced between his thighs, and over to where Sam is hovering near him, his cell phone in hand.

“Yes?”

“I have to- uh Blaine is-”

“Whatever Sam, I don't care.” He snaps rather bluntly, waving Sam off with a flick of his wrist, even causing Santana to raise an eyebrow in his direction.

Sam shakes his head with a roll of his eyes and then leaves the little room quietly. Employee or not, he was Kurt's friend first and they've been friends for long enough that he knows he'd get away with that, and even if not he doesn't care, he doesn't need to be caught up in Kurt and Blaine's silly little spat.

Santana sips quietly from her glass, eyes sweeping around the room, it's empty now except for the two of them, all of the other guests have been filtering in and out throughout the day and are now needed elsewhere.

She folds her legs neatly, one over the other, looking for something to occupy her self with, and then folds them again the other way over her knee, clears her throat and picks at a scuff mark in the fabric of the couch.

Eventually, finally she looks over to him, “Trouble in paradise huh?”

“Don't Santana.” Kurt snips quietly, not looking at her, instead choosing to focus on a splodge on the carpet.

“Why?”

He looks at her then, his eyes darting to hers like daggers ready to pierce the surface, cool and ice blue frosted with mint green. “Because I don't want to talk about-”

“No.” She stands and comes over to the little couch just beside Kurt, perches herself on the edge and leans into his personal space, a hand lightly resting on his knee. “No I meant why is there trouble? Talk to me. We don't talk like this anymore.”

“We haven't had to.” Kurt smiles a little wistfully. “Everything's been so great lately, that we haven't had to have our little ‘putting the world to rights' sessions-”

“We don't just have to talk about bad stuff.” She counters, lips pursed.

“I know, I know.” Kurt sighs, it's just that as great as everything has been, it's also been so crazy, and I've just been so-”

“Busy?” She offers, a little smirk on her rouge painted lips to match the occasion. “Yeah I know.” She adds dryly.

“Aw, you feel neglected?” Kurt says with a hint of humour, obviously trying to lighten the mood and effectively change the subject at the same time.

“Cute.” She says sardonically, “Don't think I don't know what you're doing, come on spit it out. What's happened with you and Blaine?”

Kurt is quiet for a few seconds, his eyebrows knitting together, deep in thought. From beyond the makeshift walls, catcalls and hoots and cheers can be heard from out on the stage, and Kurt just wants to drown them out.

He could be out there right now, out there with Blaine. Why is this even so important to him?

“I don't know,” He finally sighs, slouching forward to put his glass down on the little table in front of them. “I just don't know, I didn't think that there was a problem. Maybe it's just me-”

“What's just you?”

“This change, I don't know it feels like something has changed and maybe it's just me being stupid and selfish…as you usual.”

“Hey, hey, come on that's not true, at all. What is this? Stop talking in riddles,” Santana scoots closer to him and shakes his knee, putting her own glass down beside his in between little glass bowls of rose scented potpourri. “We haven't got long left in here alone, tell me what you can, get it off of your chest.”

Santana can be nosy and prying as anybody can, but Kurt knows by the tone of her voice right now that this is not what this is. Concern shadows her face as she blinks back at him, waiting for him to open up.

“It was me, it was me who really pushed for Blaine to start up this whole music thing. I really wanted it for him, I still do, of course, but I guess I just didn't think it would turn out this hard, so different from before.”

“What's hard and different about it Kurt? You still live with the guy, you still see him. You knew what it would be like, that it would affect your sickly sweet little bubble eventually. You knew that but you went ahead with it anyway, dragged Blaine along into it. You remember why? Because you love Blaine. You love him Kurt, has that changed?”

“God no.” He hisses, with an almost venomous bite. “Of course I still love him, if not more, maybe that's part of the problem.” He adds a little quieter.

“What do you mean?” Santana asks, tilting her head. Kurt looks at her then, and breathes deeply, even offers a small bashful smile.

“He used to be mine.”

“He still is yours. What the hell are you-”

“Just mine. He was only mine and I was- I was his world.” Santana's face softens as she thinks about this, sinking back into the couch cushions, understanding taking over her confused expression.

“You still are Kurt. You must know that right dummy?” She says softly, tapping at his head. Kurt nods and giggles, despite himself.

“Yeah I guess, but he's just so-”

“Busy?” Santana finishes for him again. “God I'm getting tired of that word. Hey, newsflash, busy is what you are, busy is what you do, both of you. You've been ran off of your feet practically the whole time you've known each other-”

“But he's at least always been around, always been there, with me.”

“Oh Kurt,” Santana smiles. “You've got it bad.” She sings.

“No shit.” Kurt scoffs.

“Ok this is going to sound incredibly cheesy and I'll literally kick your ass if you repeat this to anyone.” Santana stares at him pointedly and Kurt grins. “But you do know that whether Blaine is actually with you physically or not, he's still always there right? He'll never be anywhere else, it's quite clear that you two fools wouldn't be the same without each other. No matter what happens you always come home to each other, you call, you text…you're actually pretty lucky Kurt. Think about all those guys and girls in the Military, away from home-”

“Ok, Ok Santana, god.” Kurt laughs whilst swiping a finger underneath his now moist eyes. “Jesus, my make up. Shut up, I get it.”

Santana giggles with him, “What's with you Kurt, what has brought all of this on?”

Kurt rubs at his eyes, standing up to look at the mirror on the far wall, making sure nothing's smudged. “I honestly do not even know. But what I do know that is that I'm so proud of him, and so happy that he's getting somewhere with Andre, finally, he deserves this, really he does.”

“All of this has just got a little bigger, a little faster than you anticipated huh? And you just miss him.” Santana says simply like she just knows, coming to stand behind Kurt, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I know you do, and that's ok, and don't think that's he not missing you either. But you opened this world up to him, and he's just exploring it, he's finally doing what you wanted for him, he's not trying to leave you behind. He's crazy about you Kurt, in fact I'm surprised he hasn't chewed Andre's ear off about you yet.”

They both laugh and Santana helps to brush out some creases in his suit jacket. They catch eyes in the mirror, “Thank you.” Kurt mouths at her and Santana smiles, pats his shoulder.

“Don't mention it, but you have to talk to him you know that right? Throwing insults at each other or not speaking like this isn't going to help anything.”

“I know, I know. God I'm so stupid.” He groans, head dropping to hang from his shoulders.

“It's called love,” Santana teases, tickling the back of his neck, “And there is a very fine line between love and stupidity. God knows what'll happen when you two get hitched-” She snaps her mouth closed when Kurt's head comes flying back up, their eyes meeting again in the mirror's reflection.

Santana waits for the beat down, waits for the icy exterior to spread and the little shutters and worry panels to position themselves.

However the only thing that greets her, is the look of soft yet deep thoughtfulness in Kurt's eyes and the tiny little shadow of a smile, hiding near the curling upturned corner of his lips.

*

“So Kurt, lastly we have a few seconds spare, tell us about your Valentines experiences? What's been your favourite?” The Blondie in the red dress asks him, eyes wide with curiosity.

Kurt is back up on the stage for the last segment of the show, airing time is almost over and all of the guests have been invited back up in front of the camera to help wrap the show up.

Questions have been handed out here, there and everywhere to all guests and now, lastly before the credits roll its Kurt's turn, as he sits huddled on a pouty mouthed shaped purple couch surrounded by one too many bodies.

“Oh,” he blushes. “Well I um, honestly I never really celebrated it in the past.” There's a pantomime worthy gasp from out in the participating crowd and behind the rows of cameras and Kurt has to grin. “Last year, was um, was the first time that Valentines really meant something to me. I um, I sent out a card-”

“To Blaine?” somebody calls out from the audience.

“Um yeah,” Kurt nods, “But I signed it from a secret admirer…”

There's an echoing ‘awww' filling the tent as the presenter beams and says to him, “Well of course, you guys were a secret for a little while though weren't you?”

Kurt feels himself blush harder, but also somewhere deep inside it's like something clicks. All of the pent up anger and frustration from before seems to dissipate as Kurt is unknowingly reminded of the love he has, has always had, and always will have for Blaine.

“Well not a secret per se,” He starts quietly, not entirely sure of where this bout of confidence has sprang from. “We were just private I guess. Didn't really know what was happening until it happened you know?” Kurt murmurs as eloquently as he can manage.

Blondie nods and smiles and lifts a hand to her ear, obviously being told something by the direction gallery. “Ok so lastly and very quickly, where is Blaine today? Is there anything that you'd like to say to him, on the most romantic day of the year?”

“Oh-uh-” Kurt fumbles, fidgets with his fingers in his lap and ducks his head down, away from prying eyes and too bright smiles.

“I'm right here.” Comes a voice, small but steady from out in the audience. Kurt snaps his head up, his eyes zeroing in right on the source of the sound.

Even with the dark shadows surrounding the spotlights Kurt can just make out Sam and Santana grinning bashfully up at him, and then of course Blaine, his beautiful Blaine standing between them, eyes shining, cheeks flushed, and that smile, that smile that is only for Kurt.

Kurt could burst.

“And I already know everything that Kurt could want to tell me today, I think.” Blaine adds, beaming and blushing even more as the crowd around him burst into whoops and catcalls.

Kurt watches through squinted eyes as Santana loops her arm through one of Blaine's and squeezes his bicep teasingly. Sam reaches an arm around and claps him on the back and Kurt grins fondly back at the three of them. His little flock.

Blondie starts rapidly speaking whilst looking pointedly into Camera A and then there's a loud alarm ringing out throughout the tent, signalling the end of camera rolling and then its pandemonium.

The crowd are ushered out through the designated exits leaving just a flurry of people. Guys hauling cameras and pieces of equipment around, the guests up on the stage say their goodbyes and are then escorted back to the green room, but Kurt's only focus is on one person, one person who is standing in the middle of the now half-empty tent- refusing to budge.

Kurt gets down off of the small stage, walking over to Blaine, wary of Santana and Sam milling around them and the last few handfuls of people hurrying in every direction, tidying away the set and props.

“Hi.” Kurt says, coming to stand right in front of Blaine, accepting the hand that Blaine offers to him between their bodies. He squeezes their fingers together, curling rubbing, revelling in the feel of Blaine's warmth and presence. Of just Blaine.

“Hi.” Blaine responds, mouth curled into a rebellious smirk, eyes twinkling yet there's still a tone of un-surety to his voice.

“You came?” Kurt breathes.

“I was always going to come Kurt, I was just going to be a little late, that's all. For what it's worth, I'm still sorry about that.” Blaine replies, quietly. Their fingers lace together even tighter, and Kurt wishes that everybody around them would just disappear.

“I know, I know, me too-”

“I tried Kurt, I really tried to reschedule, but I just needed to- and then Andre said we could meet tonight instead, but then when you spoke to me like that this morning-” Blaine breaks off, exhaling deeply.

They could get out of here now, they could table this conversation until they're behind the privacy of their walls, and doors and windows, but right now Kurt needs this. Kurt needs this closeness, he needs to be able to talk to Blaine, and touch him and just feel, just be.

Get it all up and out and leave it and move on.  

“God, I'm sorry Blaine. That was awful of me I know.” Kurt says, his voice so quiet and feather light, “I'm sorry for being such an ass last night too-”

“I should have been more understanding. I should have just known. I was having a bad day, maybe even a bad week-” Blaine says tenderly, looking at Kurt with eyes so round and wide and bright.

“We all have those, that is completely comprehendible.” Kurt adds, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, “Hell you had to deal with a whole bad year from me-”

Blaine pokes him in the stomach, shutting him up effectively and earning a giggle in return. “Hey come on, no, we could do the ‘I'm sorrys' all day, let's just go home and deal with whatever we have to deal with there ok.” He squeezes Kurt's hand once more, his fingers itching to rub, itching to reach out, to do more. With his voice whisper soft, he adds “I missed you today, a lot actually. We'll work this out right? This was just a blip? ”

The words are like a balm to Kurt, washing over him, settling and steadying him in ways that nothing else could have done, in ways he cant even understand himself.

“Of course.” He finally says shakily, instead of the many words that are sitting toward the back of his tongue, unable to trust what else may fall from his lips in this moment.

They turn –hand in hand- to Sam and Santana who are already making their way towards the back, collecting their possessions where they'll be signed out and escorted to the parking lot.

This between them, right now and forever more is not for an audience, or for cameras. This is them, for them. 

*

In the back of the car, with Santana riding up front with Sam and the privacy dividers fully in place, Kurt straddles Blaine's lap- not even caring of road safety at this moment in time.

He kisses Blaine long and slow deep, tugging at his lips with tongue and teeth and when Blaine starts to whimper low in his throat, Kurt pulls back and ducks a hand into his jacket pocket.

“This is for you, I made it.” Kurt tells him quietly as he unfolds a patchwork red, pink and purple bowtie from his pocket and hands it to him. It's made from different swatches of fabric and materials and there are even some carefully constructed hearts in the mix somewhere.

“Kurt,” Blaine smiles, taking the bow tie and moving it delicately through his fingers, looking at it so carefully and tenderly.

“Happy Valentines.” Kurt breathes, leaning forward to press a kiss to Blaine's cheek.

Blaine turns his head quickly and catches Kurt's lips. “Mmm, our second.”

“Not just a secret admirer anymore huh?” Kurt grins, whispering against Blaine's warm, soft skin and moving his mouth down to suck against his throat.

“Definitely not.” Blaine gulps, thrusting his hips upwards gently.

Kurt gasps, “Do you think next year we could manage getting through the most romantic day of the year without insulting each other?”

“Definitely,” Blaine giggles, chasing Kurt's lips with his own, and giggling some more when Kurt yelps as he lowers him down on to his back long ways against the leather interior, snugly underneath him. “Most definitely.”