Their suite is cool when they finally make their way back up to it at around Six O'clock, and the temperature is a kind greeting from the heat of the day, spent walking around fully clothed with a couple hundred other people.

After the conference Kurt had escorted Blaine out through one of the back entrances and remained within the VIP section for the rest of the day, they were barely bothered by anybody apart from an older bartender in the refreshments tent who recognized Kurt for his mechanic line and started talking about cars. Kurt happily humoured the guy and talked about the Lexus and the number of cars that his dad had taught him about and Blaine enjoyed watching, and taking part with his own snippets.

Blaine had been quiet that afternoon but not strangely so and in return Kurt was just his normal self on a bad day, nothing new really.

When the balls of their feet were starting to ache and the need for comfier clothes and a shower became rather pressing, they made their way out to the car lot and the pick up zone with an accompanying member of staff to find their driver. They walked with their heads down when flashes were fired in their direction and didn't look up or breathe normally until they were in the back of their car and on their way back to the hotel.

Kurt had disappeared for the next couple of hours when they got back, walking to his room and closing the door behind him without an utter of a word. Blaine had taken that opportunity to do the same, he lay on his bed allowing himself to just reflect, he took a long shower and changed into a loose pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he rubbed a towel through his hair and left the curls to dry and pop up on his head.

He's enjoying a glass of red wine, sitting at the long window seat which looks out onto the purple sun-setting evening sky and the lights of the city below when Kurt's bedroom door creaks open from across the room and he pads out quietly.

He's wearing clothes almost identical to Blaine's though his t-shirt is snug around his chest and arms, his hair is sticking up and over to one side, clearly still damp and hand rubbed and his eyes are soft, bright still in the darkening room with only the lessening daylight from the window, as he notices Blaine sitting there, watching him carefully.

Blaine doesn't know if it will be awkward between them, it shouldn't be, but with Kurt anything is possible.

Kurt pads barefooted over to the kitchen counter and picks up an empty wine glass from the rack, he looks around clearly searching for something else until he notices Blaine lift up a dark green bottle from the tiled floor below and hold it out to him, silently in question.

When Kurt approaches him, Blaine unplugs the stopper from the top and pours the dark red liquid generously into Kurt's glass, he shuffles backwards and scoops his leg up, bent at the knee and close to his body. Kurt sits down in the space made for him opposite. 

“Thank you,” Blaine nods his head in response as he takes a sip and looks out through the window again. “Have you eaten?”

Blaine glances back over to Kurt and his chest thuds at how fucking beautiful he looks right now, so dressed down and simple, with shower soft skin, and the clean scent of soap and shampoo and just him wafting over filling Blaine's nostrils. His face is highlighted by the glow from outside, eyes so wide and clear and more green than blue.

“Um no- I-I was waiting for-I thought maybe you'd want to order in?” Kurt hums around the glass as he takes a sip.

“Oh, yes, that'd be great actually, um thank you.” Blaine smiles and looks away again, he feels deeply relaxed for some reason, maybe it was the hot water, maybe it's the wine. He feels tired but his body is awake, he feels almost strangely content, and he can't understand it.

Kurt looks over his shoulder behind him and seems delighted to find the Hotel phone handset sitting up on the counter just behind him, he's thankful he doesn't have to move other than stretch an arm and a hand upwards. He orders a range of side dishes, all things quick and easy and great for sharing, not exactly healthy but he could care less, and another bottle of wine. He places the phone on the seat beside him and looks back at Blaine who is pretending like he hasn't been watching. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Blaine raises his eyebrows at the window but doesn't look at Kurt straight away, he knows that Kurt will be looking back at him so deeply, so intently right now that Blaine may not be able to contain the soft gasp that he knows will escape his lips, maybe wine was a bad idea, maybe he should go to bed. He knows as soon as the thought enters his mind that it's not even an option, not with Kurt ordering for them, and another bottle on the way.

He gives it a moment, conjures up some strength and restraint and finally looks at Kurt, and yeah, there is that gaze deep and dark, probably very similar to his own. He knows what Kurt means, he knows exactly, the atmosphere is nice at the moment, almost perfect and he doesn't want to jeopardize it, but he also doesn't want to pass up an opportunity to talk to Kurt.  

“Do you?”

“Honestly? Not really, but I will if you want to?”

Blaine smirks, at least Kurt is being normal. That is something that he can never fault Kurt for, Kurt has always been himself with Blaine, never fake, and no matter how stand off-ish he may come across at least he has always been real.

“Not much to say really is there, you don't have to explain anything to me, I guess there's always going to be reporters right? Should I get used to it?”

Kurt smiles sadly whist he takes another drink and nods, the thick heady wine burns deliciously down his throat, he brings his glass up to rest against his cheek.

“Yes, does that bother you?”

Blaine shakes his head. “Will they always ask me questions like that?”

“Probably, until they get used to you and who you are.”

Blaine laughs humorously, he can't help it. “God I don't even know who that is anymore, why the fuck do they care?” The words rush out deep and gritty, too late to swallow them back down, “God, I'm sorry that was so out of line.”

“No it wasn't, not at all, your perfectly fine speaking your mind, I like it.”

“You do?”

“Well I like that you can be honest with me, I like how, I think that you trust me, I like how you just know how to be, you know, you're just you.” Kurt's eyes are shining right now and Blaine cannot look away as the pink tip of his tongue peeks out to wipe over his reddened wet lips.

Blaine drains his glass and leans down to retrieve the bottle, god they need to eat, it would be in both of their best interests if they eat, like right now. A chicken Caesar salad Six hours ago is not going to suffice against the temptation of Merlot filled stomachs and minds. Kurt empties his glass and shuffles forward on the padded bench to allow Blaine to fill his glass for him again.

Blaine scoots forward also and when both glasses are filled to the top, even though they normally have much better wine drinking etiquette, he messily places the bottle back down to the tiled floor but neither men move back to their original positions.

They study each other in a way that should be too much, it should be too intimate, but it just doesn't feel that way, Kurt breaks the momentary silence. 

“I'm sorry.”

“For what? God Kurt you don't need to apologise, at all, it's cool.”

“Well I'm sure you wouldn't have willingly wanted anybody to ask you those questions, I recognized her from other events over the years, she's always been so nice and-and I guess that this game is just so fickle huh, we have to make our living, she has to make hers. She's not going to apologise to you so I should.”

“Well don't-but thank you, and uh no, not just anybody, not in that way, like she did-”

“Can I?”

Of course, Blaine thinks, Kurt can ask him anything and what's worrying is that Blaine knows that he will tell him anything in return. He smiles, that well known half a quirk of his lip against the edge of his glass and watches how Kurt takes a breath, a soft gasp rasped and blown back out against the hollow glass, it sounds gorgeous.

“I-I wouldn't say that I was on my way to stardom or anything like that, I was never at a point where I was interviewed or recognised by paparazzi, like you, like um that. I had a following sure, there were regulars at the places I performed at who would cheer and call out, request their favourites, then I started booking events and-and it was wonderful, I got by doing something that I loved,”

He pauses to take a drink and to peek up at Kurt, who's eyes are now a deep green, reflecting off of the stream of twinkling lights outside and the deep red liquid from his glass. God those eyes were going to kill Blaine tonight, he was sure of it.

The room is darkening by the minute and they really should flick on a lamp or something, but that would mean getting up, that would mean moving away from the close positions that they had found themselves in and Blaine is not willing to do that.

“Why did you stop Blaine, why did you stop what you love?”

“I didn't choose to, I didn't stop completely, not at first, I guess I just lost my way.” Kurt contemplates this, his lips pursed in thought, he listens intently to everything that Blaine is saying, he seems to think about his responses deeply.

“Are you happy?” Blaine was not expecting that and yet he answers like he has no filter.

“I wasn't.” But Blaine knows that he wasn't all entirely happy before the singing had stopped, that doesn't have to be spoken allowed though, not yet.

“Until?”

The answer that Blaine wants to say, the answer that is waiting to come out, that is sitting at the back of Blaine's throat just waiting to be propelled forward by his hasty tongue, is so simple, yet so loaded, and it's so true that it's confusing and thrilling in both good and bad ways.

Kurt is just there, his face open and beautiful looking like its coming closer and closer even though he's probably not moving at all, those eyes and those lips are just there, and Blaine could just tell him, now, he could-

*Knock Knock*-“Room service.”

*

They eat on the floor of the living area, opened up cartons of food that smells and tastes too good to be true are scattered all over the coffee table with spoons and forks dug in to them. The side lamps have been switched on, lighting the room enough to see what they're eating but dim enough to keep a respective ambience.

They are both seated at opposite sides, Blaine resting against one couch and Kurt against an arm chair, the second bottle of wine is situated between them and already close to half empty. Kurt had plugged his iPod into the dock and the music is filtering into the room nicely as they eat and bicker over who gets the last of the loaded potato skins.

When Kurt has ate his last mouthful he can possibly manage before bursting he lifts himself up onto the chair behind him and tucks his knees and legs under neatly, whilst cradling his wine glass.

Blaine laughs lightly as he polishes off the last of the southern fried chicken strips, rubbing his fingers clean and then does the same, stretching himself out on the couch behind, eyes closed.

Now with a pleasantly full belly Blaine can feel the heady wine clouding his head deliciously, the rich scent filling his senses, he feels boneless and relaxed and he could probably fall asleep any second, if it wasn't for the fact that Kurt is just right there.

He blinks an eye open to find Kurt sprawled over the decent sized armchair like some sort of Greek god, all arms and legs spilling over the sides with his head resting back exposing his long thick neck, his wine glass balanced precariously somewhere beside him. His eyes are closed too and he looks completely at peace, his foot is tapping along to the beat of the new song that's started playing and he's humming very quietly along with the melody. Blaine is starting to realise that he only ever sees Kurt so relaxed, something close to happy when he is in the presence of nobody else, just him, just the two of them.

Blaine smiles to himself and wriggles onto his side so that he can get a better view of Kurt's face, if Kurt was to turn his head then they could be looking at each other eye for eye.

 “I-I'm sorry about before, about the um swearing and stuff.”

“Don't apologise Blaine, not for that.” Blaine can hear the smile in Kurt's voice, and the upturn to the corner of his lips, his voice is rasped and deep and Blaine wants to keep him talking. It's almost like Kurt heard his thoughts. “We all need ways to blow off steam, to let it all out, I-I guess I maybe should have warned you or something, I haven't been anywhere so publically for a while and I didn't think they would care I was there.”

“Why? Why did you stop going to those events, was it for that reason?” Kurt sits up and takes a long drink from his glass, he leans forward and picks up the wine bottle from the table and fills his glass and when he's done he just kind of sits there for a couple of seconds just holding the bottle, looking off into space. Blaine knows that he's thinking about something, he's doing that thing when he's deciding what to do or not to do in his head.

Suddenly Kurt stands and steps around the coffee table over to the couch, glass and bottle still in hands. Blaine's eyes widen a little and he struggles to sit up against the cushions on the arm of the chair when Kurt holds the bottle out to him, Blaine lifts his glass to meet him half way letting him pour another drink, god two bottles, they've done well, god knows what they're trying to achieve.

Blaine gives a quiet thanks when Kurt discards the empty bottle on the table, and he's about to lie back but then Kurt sits, right there, by his feet at the end of the couch.

Blaine's bare toes are curled against the denim of Kurt's tight thighs and Kurt doesn't seem to care, he only leans back into the cushions further, resting his glass against stomach and closing his eyes.

“Honestly? I guess I got a little bored, got a little lonely I suppose,” Oh, Kurt is answering Blaine's question, he lies back down slightly but props himself up on a cushion, the look of Kurt's side profile is too good to miss right now, not with the way they're sat so close, so comfortable, he keeps quiet hoping that Kurt will carry on.

“These things are all so generic, they're great when you're first starting off, it's all new and exciting and people just want you, but you soon discover that they don't want you for you, they want you for what you have, for what you may be able to offer them.”

Blaine sits back up straight, pulling his knees up close to his chest, his feet now tucked just under Kurt's thighs, Kurt turns his head and their eyes meet with a flash, glazed blue with deep hazel. Kurt doesn't look sad, he doesn't even sound it, it's almost like he's told this story a thousand times, he's resigned now, but Blaine knows that Kurt probably hasn't ever said this allowed before, not to just anyone.

“Kurt-”

“You are the first person, who I thought, who I knew, wasn't like that, you're not like them, you don't take anything from me, I guess you didn't even have an opinion on me at first, because you didn't know me. With you here in my world, in my own little bubble, I don't, I don't feel,”

Lonely. Blaine knows that he wants to say lonely, but his pride won't let him.

Blaine doesn't know what to say, he's flabbergasted to be honest, he raises his glass to his lips just for something to do, and the liquid feels stronger this time, it trickles down his throat and settles warm in his chest and he feels light headed with it.

“I wanted to bring you here this weekend, because I knew I could rely on you, to keep me steady, to keep me grounded almost, I feel like I could be the person who I was, who I used to be, when you talk to me, when you're with me.”

“What person was that?”

“A nicer person, a better person.”

Blaine feels like he's been slammed in the chest for some reason, he's struggling for breath and for words and most importantly struggling to stop himself from climbing onto Kurt's lap and warp his arms around him. Kurt takes a mouthful of wine and Blaine places a tentative hand on his arm, he tries again.

“Kurt-”

“Don't Blaine, it's fine, I'm fine, I didn't tell you so that you could make me feel better, I don't need that, I just had to tell you I guess, I-I wanted to.”

Blaine closes his mouth but keeps his hand warm and firm curled around Kurt's arm, Kurt shifts very slightly and Blaine can feel the ripple of the muscle underneath his fingers, it's a tantalizing feeling.

“So I guess I need to know that you're ok with this, with events and people like that, I can't say that you're never going to be approached like that again, the questions may get better, they may get worse, probably the latter, but you don't have to answer, not at all, it's nobody business and only you know the truth, only you know what really matters to you, it's easier said than done but in this business you learn quickly, you just have haul all of that stuff out of your mind and your heart like white noise.”

Kurt takes another drink until the glass is empty and then leans forward to put it down, when he pulls back again he moves his body a half turn in Blaine's direction and pulls a knee up, an arm draped over the back of the couch and a hand resting on his bent  knee. Like this their bodies are so close, almost leaning into each other and Kurt's face, his nose and cheeks bones look so defined, so beautiful in this light, Blaine literally has to pull the words up from his throat. He empties his glass, licks his lips and leaves the glass on the chair somewhere behind him.

“I can do that Kurt, of course, I'm ok with it, I'll go with you anywhere, it's-it's my job right,” It almost doesn't feel right, saying those words, yet they are the truth, it is Blaine job to be there for Kurt and do as he says and he asks.

“Um, yes, it's, it's your job,” Kurt clears his throat and there's that voice again, so soft and defeated. Blaine just wants to comfort him even though Kurt has made it clear he does not want nor does he need comfort. Blaine just wants to know, wants to know what has made Kurt this way.

It's then when he realizes that his palm is still closed around Kurt's arm, he uncurls his fingers and pulls back only to be caught by Kurt's hand, his long fingers curled around Blaine's wrist, stopping him in mid-air.

“It's my job to keep you safe though, I hope you trust that I wont let them get to you, it's only words ok, it's just words, trust me.”

Words. Blaine thinks, if only he can believe that, if only he and Kurt were actually thinking about the same thing right now, maybe they are, but there is one thing that he is absolutely sure of.

“I do trust you Kurt, I do, you know that, and I-I think that we can beat those assholes together-” Kurt laughs and Blaine beams at the noise, he loves the way he can make Kurt laugh. Blaine knows that Kurt likes the way Blaine can lighten the mood, he can soften the atmosphere and Blaine wants to preen.

“This is why I don't have a management team, I was just waiting for you to come along and knock everything into place.”

“I think a promotion is in order,” Kurt laughs again and shoves at Blaine's chest lightly.

“You're not even through your probation yet,” Well shit. Blaine had never thought about that, it's been Four and half months and it feels like a hell of a lot longer, Blaine had stopped worrying about the wrongs and rights, he seemed to have just got it, he and Kurt were working well and he never thought about his probationary period.

Kurt has started speaking again and Blaine's zones back in.

“A manager is something I never thought about, honestly, I don't want anybody telling me what to do or where to be, I don't need that, I can handle myself perfectly fine, I have done for so long, and now, and now I have you, um an assistant, I don't need anybody else.”

Yes you have me. Blaine thinks, you've had me from the start and you can have me for as long as you like.

The night sky outside of the window is like a navy blanket draped over the city and the dotted lights all around it, the music is still playing softly around them and Blaine doesn't have to look at the time to know its getting late. They have another day at the convention tomorrow and then an evening flight back to New York, Blaine knows they should get some rest, and sleep off the wine, they have to be up early to pack and check out but he cannot look away from Kurt right now, he does not want to move an inch from the huddle they have found themselves in.

The word unprofessional doesn't even enter Blaine's mind right now. If he doesn't say what he wants to say now, he may not get another chance anytime soon.

“Um, Kurt?”

“Hmm?” Kurt's chin is balanced on his knee and his arms are now wrapped around his leg, his fingers are just brushing Blaine's leg where they're rested.

“I-I need you to know, I don't even know if I should be telling you this, but you should know that, that I don't know who you were before or what shit went down, but you're-you are such a wonderful person now, you must believe that, and I don't care what you have or don't have, or what you think others think of you, I-I want you for you.”

He snaps his jaw shut before he can say anything more, breathing heavily through his nose. Kurt needed to know, he can take those words in whichever way he likes, but he needs to know that Blaine respects and likes him just the way that he is, he deserves to hear it, people should be told when they have made such an impact on somebody else.

Blaine dares to look at Kurt and instantly regrets it, his lips are slightly stained a dark purple and parted, so full and rounded and his eyes are clear and bright. His strong shoulders are rising and falling softly with each breath and his brow is a little furrowed, like he can't comprehend what Blaine has just said. Blaine starts to untangle himself and tries to rise, it's definitely time to call it a night now.

“B-Blaine, you should know that everybody loses their way someway or another, y-you're not alone, in that, you'll find it again, somehow, you will.”

I have, Blaine wants to say, I already have. Instead he says, “I'm happy now Kurt, for now I'm happy and I can work with that, and I hope that you can find happiness in yourself some day too.”  

Drawing up every ounce of courage he has, alcohol inflicted or not, or maybe it is just a huge case of the ‘holy shit what are you doing?' Blaine leans forward over his knees and as quickly and softly as he can muster he places a fleeting chaste kiss, to the side of Kurt's cheek, just on the striking edge of bone, before his hair line. Blaine closes his eyes as the tip of his nose ruffles into Kurt's soft sweet smelling hair for not more than a second and then instantly pulls back.

Before Blaine can move off of the couch and make a hasty retreat to his room with his tail between his legs, Kurt turns his face as quick as lightening and their cheeks are now pressed against each other. Blaine's stubble has grown in from his shave the night before, he didn't feel the need to shave before the convention this morning and the feel of it against the light scratch of Kurt's is the most delicious feeling.

Warm air is blown around the shell of Blaine's ear and he tries his damndest not to shiver at the sensation, Holy Hell, what is happening.

“Thank you Blaine, just…thanks.” The lightest, most gentle press of lips, so much that its barely there, is brushed in passing against Blaine's hairline, it's bone tingling feeling, and then its gone, Kurt is gone. Blaine just registers the sound of a door closing as he opens his eyes to the sight of the dented couch cushion where Kurt had just been.

Good God.

*

On Monday Morning Blaine enters his office earlier than usual, so early that Kurt isn't even around yet, and honestly he's a little glad of that. He's dressed in beige slacks and a white shirt with a chocolate coloured bowtie and pair of suspenders, his usual work wear, just because he feels like crap it doesn't mean he has to look it.

He's tired and knows that it shows in the slight puffiness under his eyes, but he can't sleep, he's tried for the past Eight hours and the best he got was just under Five, plus around the same amount from the night before that. He hasn't even put his usual effort into styling his hair and knows that shaving was a half assed attempt this morning. 

The previous day could only be described as torture, in Blaine's opinion anyway. He woke up too hot and earlier than he had set his alarm for, with a pressing need from his bladder and a head that felt like he'd had a round with Mike Tyson. He all but rolled into the bathroom, took a shower and traipsed back to his hotel bed wrapped in a fluffy towel and fell back down on to the mattress messily, not caring that he was still dripping with water. He tried to doze on and off for the next hour but had no such luck, so he slowly got himself dressed in a pair of Capri pants and a plain button down and found some brightly patterned suspenders for good measure. He packed his bags, cleared up his mess and took some pills for his head. He doesn't even understand why he felt so bad, he's drank a hell of lot more in the past and woken in much better states.

Blaine knows that it's not so much the alcohol itself, but what the alcohol had inflicted. It's the thoughts and the memories. Jesus.

He'd pretty much forced himself out of his room and out into the kitchen come dining area of the penthouse suite, where he'd found Kurt sitting quietly at the table, with a newspaper pressed under his nose and a spread full of food around him.

Blaine reluctantly and after an internal battle with himself, joined him, seating himself at the opposite end of the table and instantly reached for the coffee jug.

Kurt looked fine, more than fine, composed and striking in a blue checked shirt and black skinny jeans, and Blaine just wanted to bang his head against the table. Kurt's eyes never lifted, not once, but Blaine could just make out the light blue and hint of green flecks under his reading lenses. When Kurt finally spoke, quiet and even, Blaine could just make out the slight hint of dry humour and didn't know whether to be surprised or not.

“Good Morning.”

“Oh uh, m-mornin.” Good one Blaine.

And that had been that, the level of communication that had been set between them. Blaine felt sick, he couldn't bring himself to say anything let alone eat. He drank his cup and excused himself from the table, waiting for Kurt to finish up, he felt sure that he could feel Kurt's eyes on him as he walked away but like hell would he turn around to check.

They packed up and vacated the suite, checked out at the desk and loaded their luggage into the back of the car ready to go to the airport later that day, and then they spent the best part of the next Five hours back at the convention.

They wandered in and out of panels and conference rooms, Blaine always a step behind Kurt, the sun was out in full force therefore deeming shades an acceptable accessory both indoors and out. They watched a mini catwalk out in the main exhibition tent and browsed the merchandise stands, Kurt had some photos taken and spoke with some exhibitors whilst Blaine hung back. He wasn't avoiding or ignoring Kurt at all, and nor vice versa, honestly Blaine just simply wasn't giving any chance for a real conversation, he kept himself to himself and Kurt seemed happy enough with that. Maybe Blaine was beating himself up too much, maybe he was over thinking.   

There weren't a lot of press around, well none who were so bold to approach and interfere with their day, but Kurt steered clear of those areas where they would be lurking. Kurt had seemed strangely relaxed the whole day, strolling around, buying snacks and refreshments and just handing them to Blaine soundlessly, like he knew what he needed, and like the lost puppy Blaine was he just accepted it all, with rough mumbles and mutters of gratitude.

The drive to the airport could have been worse he supposed, Blaine had actually shamefully drifted on and off a little whilst staring out of the window to the sounds of Kurt tapping away on his phone. The airplane journey was much the same, only speaking after take off when Kurt had handed him a bag of mixed nuts knowing that Blaine would take out the ones that he didn't like.

By the time Sam had collected them from the Airport when they landed and brought them back to the condo it was late, and Blaine thinks that he and Kurt had probably only said about Six full sentences to each other over the whole of the day, and he hated it. As Blaine had suspected, once back inside and luggage brought up from the car, Kurt had disappeared somewhere into the depths of the condo and was never seen again. Santana had been staying over to look after Jester who were both nowhere to be seen and Blaine kind of wished that she were around to maybe lighten things a little.

Now as Blaine tugs the blinds open over his office windows, allowing the morning sun to spill through the glass panes and over his skin, warming him and awakening his tired body, he notices a small white envelope lying on his desk. He rounds the desk and approaches, slowly lowering himself into his chair and immediately feels his heart thud hard and twice as fast in his chest.

The envelope is thick to the touch, a rich ivory and clearly not from any ordinary stationary kit, his name is scribbled over the middle in what is most definitely Kurt's curvaceous handwriting in bold black ink. Blaine traces the word gently with a trembling finger and feels his throat dry up.

What could this be, why is Kurt writing him a letter, what is it that Kurt couldn't tell him, yesterday or last night or later today.  It really could only mean one thing.

As much as Blaine doesn't want to see, he doesn't want to read the words, he just cannot think about emptying his room upstairs, loading Jes into his carry box and going back to whatever that was he called a life before, he doesn't fumble around in his desk drawer for the plush letter opener he just tears straight into the envelope and pulls the folded slip of paper out.

He opens it up in his shaking palms and gives himself a little silent pep talk before he allows his eyes to drop to the first line. Just get it over and done with, you crossed the line and now you know the consequences, there is nobody to blame but yourself, just read it and get of here.

But Kurt told him Thank You, Kurt told him that he wasn't alone. Kurt ordered the second bottle of wine.

Blaine takes a deep breath. The letter is no different to the envelope, a rich texture covered in neatly handwritten words, plucked from Kurt's own head and heart and spilled from his fingers. Personal and real.

Mr Anderson,

Blaine , I hope that you can agree that the past almost Five months have passed rather quickly, and in that time our working relationship has grown strong and efficient. You have been able to show nothing but the utmost of professionalism and respect for my company and myself.

I thank you for that, deeply and sincerely, though I must state that the dynamic has most certainly changed somewhat.

And so, I believe that it is in the best interests of you and I and the business, that we end your working Six Month probationary period as of here and now.  

Blaine swallows thickly once and then twice, his temples are pounding and he feels sweat gathering across the nape of his neck, he reads on, he must, there is nothing else to do.

Therefore I would like to offer you a full time contracted Position , with me and my company, within the condo and office space, if you shall kindly accept.

I look forward to receiving your response in good time.

Until Further Notice

Kurt.

The paper slips from Blaine's hands as he stands from the desk, the chair rolling backwards behind him and hitting the wall with a dull thud, he releases a shuddering breath that he didn't realise he was even holding.

Some of the wording he cannot quite grasp, but right now that doesn't matter. The most important thing is Kurt wants him to stay.

Kurt wants him to stay.

Blaine exhales with a soft whoosh of breath and a sigh which sounds like something between content and elated. He begins to giggle, a deep rumble in his chest which rises high and squeaky as he pushes a hand up and over his forehead, and through his hair. He has no idea what has just happened, but he is not going to try and work it out.

Kurt wants him.

“Is that a yes?”

He's startled into an adorable little jump on the spot, and his eyes dart upwards to the open doorway where Kurt is leaning against the jamb, silently like some sort of impeccable ninja. He's wearing a sharp dark fitted suit, with his strapping arms folded over his chest and thighs and ankles crossed over each over. He's also wearing a smile, wide and breathtaking that Blaine doesn't think he has a name for yet, it's spread over those pink lips and those eyes are like a twinkling galaxy.

He looks so dangerously handsome, staring back at Blaine right now, a beautiful mystery, and Blaine can't stop his feet when they carry him forward in small careful steps around to the front of his desk with a big grin that he just can't control either.

“Do you need that in writing, or?”

The laugh by way of response that Blaine receives, is more than enough reassurance that he needs, to know that he doesn't and shouldn't have to worry about anything anymore, not now.

Of all of the things Blaine has chosen to do and say in his lifetime, he is pretty damn sure that this, this job, Kurt, and everything to do with him, may actually be the best decision that he has made in his life.