“When the world is puddle-wonderful,” Blaine whispers as Kurt mouths at his neck, works at unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Mm?”

“Huh?”

Kurt stops and gives Blaine a curious look. “Did you just say something about�puddles?”

Blaine blinks. “I…did not realize I said that out loud.”

“Someone spiked the punch, that’s what all this has been about, hasn’t it?”

“No!” Blaine smiles in embarrassment. “It’s from this ee cummings poem.”

“Cummings, hm?” Kurt’s fingers continue on their mission to open Blaine’s shirt. “Trying to tell me something?” Kurt smirks, stepping in closer. “You’re so dirty, Blaine.”

“Shut up,” Blaine laughs.

“You’re the one talking about coming,” Kurt says in a sing-song voice.

Blaine is half-naked now and thinking about coming and so he can’t be blamed for pressing forward and kissing any further words from Kurt’s mouth. Kurt kisses back without hesitation and it’s messy at first and just a little awkward because they are both so eager. Kurt’s hands frame Blaine’s face and hold him there, keep him still. Kurt presses him hard against the door and kisses him like he’s starving for it.

Blaine understands, he understands completely, because he needs this, too.

He never imagined being with someone could feel this way, that passion like this was real. He had�hoped,�but after so many failed dates and his inability to want anyone beyond something platonic, he had wondered if there was something wrong with him, that maybe love of this kind was just an exaggeration. He feels it now like a physical ache, this need for Kurt, and it’s scary and amazing, and to think Kurt feels even just a little of this for him? Blaine’s heart is almost fit to burst.

Kurt is breathless and flushed when he pulls away. “I want to do everything with you,” he says, kissing Blaine’s face, lips moving down to his neck, kissing everywhere.

“I want you to,” Blaine says, tilting his head back, baring throat and chest to Kurt’s mouth. Oh, Kurt’s�tongue, little wet touches along his jaw, under his ear, over his Adam’s apple. Blaine groans so Kurt’s mouth will feel the vibration and Kurt moans softly in response, sucks fleetingly along his neck.

“We should—” Blaine gasps as Kurt’s teeth worry along the side of his neck. “—Bed, Kurt.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kurt says, moves away only enough to lead them both over. Kurt sits on the edge of the mattress and stops Blaine from following, holding him by the hips, eyes on his. “What did you bring me here for, exactly?”

Blaine blushes and stutters, glances away. “To be with you.”

“But,” Kurt breathes, fingers giving the waistband of Blaine’s slacks a light tug, “in what capacity?”

Blaine pushes through sudden nervousness and makes a face, something like a smile, he hopes. “Whatever capacity you want.”

Kurt slides the button free with his thumb. “When I said everything, I meant it. I meant now.”

Blaine’s throat constricts, so he nods, words failing to express how much he wants this, too. With Kurt.

Kurt pulls Blaine’s pants down, leaving him in his boxer briefs. He reaches forward, gently touches Blaine, eliciting a soft, pleading sound. Kurt’s eyes flicker upward. “You’re already so hard for me.”

“Kurt—”

Kurt is palming him, almost kneading. Blaine leans into it with a groan, hands falling to Kurt’s shoulders. At his touch, Kurt pulls his briefs down, leaving Blaine naked. Kurt doesn’t stroke or jerk him, more like maps him out, palm and fingers skating along his skin, just�feeling. Kurt’s other hand reaches below, behind, along his thighs, everywhere. Kurt’s hands are all over and it’s all Blaine can do to keep from slumping into his lap, begging for more.

“I love this about you,” Kurt says.

“W-What?” Blaine asks, fingers tight around Kurt’s shoulders, head bowed.

Kurt gently squeezes his cock. “This. Everything�male�about you. People hate me for wanting it.” Kurt strokes just once. “Are they kidding?”

Kurt pulls him closer and slides to the floor. Blaine’s hands trace up Kurt’s neck to the back of his head, fingers disappearing in his hair. He can’t think with the way Kurt’s touching him and the things Kurt is saying. He can’t think of one thing to reply with that isn’t a moan or a plea for something more.

Kurt briefly nuzzles his nose and cheek to Blaine’s stomach, kissing his way down along the sparse trail of hair until Blaine can feel his breath where he aches most.

“They can keep their outdated morals and their Bible and their God. This is the only thing I want to worship,” Kurt whispers, and presses his lips right to the underside of Blaine’s cock.

Blaine gasps and his fingers tighten in Kurt’s hair. “Holy�shit…”

Kurt mouths at Blaine’s cock, licks, sucks lightly against the shaft, not yet taking it into his mouth but it doesn’t even matter because this is�amazing. They haven’t done this yet, at most they’ve explored handjobs and rubbing, but this is different. Wet and hot and Blaine had no idea this feeling was even�possible, but he never wants to go back.

Blaine hears the sound of a zipper.� Kurt shifts, and Blaine doesn’t know why until he looks down between them and�sees. “Kurt,” he says, startled, “I can, for you—”

Kurt’s hand is pumping himself, he’s hard and the head of his cock is shiny with smeared pre-come. “No, I just—I need to this time. I’m so turned on, you’re so—“ He doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say, moving instead to take Blaine back into his mouth.

Blaine whimpers, helplessly pushing his hips toward Kurt’s mouth, saying his name in a broken voice. It feels too good, tight and wet and perfect. Kurt sucks at the head, lowers slowly, taking more and more into his mouth, down his throat until there’s nowhere else and Kurt’s hand hovers with nothing left to hold.

“Kurt.”

Kurt moans in reply and moves back up, experimentally bobs his head, his hand returning to hold Blaine in place as he sucks.

Blaine’s hands are fists in Kurt’s hair, and he pulls a little without meaning to. He would be sorry except that Kurt makes these high-pitched sounds every time, and Blaine is craning his head to see, wants to watch Kurt’s mouth around him, Kurt’s hand jerking himself off. Kurt’s mouth moves faster, his thumb sweeping along the sensitive underside of Blaine’s cock and Blaine�can’t.

“Kurt—oh, I’m sorry, I—”

It’s as much warning as he can get out. He comes with Kurt’s mouth still around him, with Kurt’s mouth still moving, working him through his orgasm. Blaine doesn’t even know what sounds he’s making, how hard he’s pulling Kurt’s hair, because there is nothing but heat and release.

Kurt swallows and pulls off, taking a breath and then letting out a strangled moan as he stands a little to lean against Blaine. Blaine can feel it hit his thigh, hot stripes of come. He can’t help a moan of his own and tilts Kurt’s head back with a hand still in his hair, the other clutching at Kurt’s shoulder, brackets himself around Kurt and kisses him. Kurt’s hands are on his hips now and Blaine can taste himself on Kurt’s tongue, delicious and dirty.

They fall back onto the bed in a mass of sweaty, slightly sticky limbs, and neither of them can bring themselves to care. Kurt loses his pants and Blaine pulls a blanket over them.� They take their time kissing and touching, exploring with hands and mouths and heated looks. Blaine is certain there isn’t a single soul as beautiful as Kurt, and he tells him so in whispers and in as many ways as he can think of. Kurt tries to stop him with kisses, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment and love.

At first it feels like drowning, warm from the blanket and from Kurt, limbs heavy and head foggy with a mixed desire for sleep and for�more. It tapers off little by little, touch by touch, focus sharpening and heat building. He’s hard again and so is Kurt, Blaine can feel him against his thigh. It’s almost surreal, to have this.

Blaine’s fingers tease Kurt’s nipples, Kurt’s knead Blaine’s ass. Kurt’s mouth is a constant sucking pressure along his neck and Blaine doesn’t even want to know what he’s going to look like tomorrow. It’s a distracting thought, so when one of Kurt’s fingers dips down to touch where he has�definitely�never been touched before, Blaine can’t help a surprised sort of yelp.

Kurt pulls back, eyes heavy-lidded, but concerned. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I—sorry, that was embarrassing. You can continue. With my butt.”

Kurt grins and it looks almost wolfish. “You’re cute.”

Kurt moves his finger a little, rubs lightly at the opening. It feels good in a way Blaine wasn’t expecting and he unconsciously leans in toward Kurt, tiny whimpers at each movement from his finger.

Kurt is breathing heavy and whispers against his ear, “Do you have lube?”

Blaine nods, rolling on his opposite side and away from Kurt to look in the drawer of his bedside table. He’d bought lube and condoms not too long after they’d gotten together. He didn’t know when they’d use them, but he knew that eventually they would. Everything has been so fervent from the moment they kissed that it feels like a wonder they’ve waited this long.

There is no second guessing, Blaine is ready.

He turns toward Kurt with his hands hidden behind his back. “Pick a hand.”

“Is this a modern version of playing hard to get?” Kurt asks, tapping his right shoulder.

Blaine produces his hand, opening it. “Behind this hand, lube.”

“Do I have to answer a riddle to get what’s behind the other?” Kurt asks, taking the tube and smiling.

“Yes, what’s rubbery and ribbed for her pleasure?”

“Her? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Kurt takes the packet from Blaine, sets it aside and leans in to kiss him, reaching down and giving Blaine’s cock two slow, moan-inducing strokes. “Don’t feel like a girl to me.”

Blaine opens the tube for Kurt, spreading the lube on Kurt’s fingers for him. “Definitely not a girl.”

Kurt looks down to his fingers. It’s a goopy sort of mess, Blaine maybe used too much, but probably better too much than too little. “You’re sure about this?” Kurt asks.

Blaine nods, ignoring the way his heart’s pounding. “How do you want me?”

Kurt’s eyes are dark, they linger and it’s a moment before he answers. “On your elbows and knees, I think.” Blaine acquiesces, and Kurt helps direct him. “Yeah, like— knees drawn under, yeah. Like that.” Kurt moves behind him and Blaine hears him groan. “God, Blaine, I just want to—”

Blaine bites his lip, hands tightening in his bed sheet, and he lifts his ass just a little higher, presenting himself to Kurt. He just wants so�badly. “Please, Kurt.”

There’s a groan and then Blaine feels the cool, wet touch of Kurt’s finger. Kurt teases the rim again, swirls his finger, increasing and decreasing the pressure at random, making Blaine moan and squirm. When he isn't sure he can take anymore, Kurt’s finger slowly pushes inside. It’s hard to judge how far. Blaine can feel it moving, it doesn’t feel�bad, but it doesn’t exactly feel�good, either. It’s a weird sort of pressure, but the idea of it, and god, the friction against that outer edge,�that’s�turning Blaine on.�That�feels good, and he wants more, begs for it in little moans.

Kurt stretches him with that one finger for what seems like an impossibly long time.

“Kurt, more…”

“Okay,” Kurt says, and his voice sounds shaky and jesus that’s incredibly hot. Blaine wishes he could see, turns his head to look right as Kurt works another finger inside. It burns just a little, but Kurt looks up at him and the�look�in his eyes. There’s nothing else, just this boy he loves, just them.

“You’re so tight, Blaine, I—I’m gonna do another, okay? I read—”

But Blaine is already shaking his head, saying�yeah, yeah, please, and there’s this moment of�emptiness�when Kurt is adding more lube, followed by intense pressure of all three fingers entering at once. Blaine breathes and relaxes his body, head lowering a moment. Kurt’s free hand is holding onto his hip, almost bruisingly tight, and it all just feels like�a lot.

Kurt’s fingers go deeper and start to slowly thrust, start to move with purpose. Blaine is cursing under his breath and Kurt is moaning low and Blaine wonders if he even realizes. Kurt curls his fingers, or, Blaine isn’t sure, just knows it feels different, and then it feels�amazing, so amazing he cries out softly, surprised by the sudden spike of pleasure.

“Wha—”

“Yeah? Did that feel good?” Kurt’s leaning over his back in an eager sort of way, moving his fingers a little faster, massaging, and Blaine cries out again, claws at his mattress until his hands are fists in the sheet because holy fuck it’s intense and strange and�good.

“I love the sounds you’re making, they’re driving me crazy,” Kurt is saying in a husky voice, practically draped over his back, licking and sucking at Blaine’s neck, biting, mouthing his shoulder, moving his fingers over and over the same area and all Blaine can do is moan and try to remember to breathe.

The feeling ignites, flares, and Blaine almost screams, lets out this broken sob and he’s sure he’s come, he doesn’t feel anything but he must have.

“Oh my god,” Kurt says and his fingers are gone and he flips Blaine. Blaine lets Kurt manhandle him, position him. A pillow under his hips and Kurt’s hands linger on his thighs a moment.

“Did I come?” Blaine asks weakly, mindlessly.

“No, it’s—I don’t know, that was just. Can I? Is it still okay?” Kurt asks, and he has the condom clenched in both hands. He looks wild. Blaine nods.

Kurt lets out a breath like relief and gets himself ready. Blaine watches in anticipation, that edge of nervousness back, but the way Kurt adds a little lube inside the condom and rolls it on, spreads more lube along his length, the precision and preparation for what they’re about to do all feels very erotic to Blaine and there is a low buzz under his skin.

Kurt scoots up between Blaine’s legs, holds onto his thighs, and everything at once seems sharpened. The blue of Kurt’s eyes, the bow of his lips, the touch of his fingers and the pale expanse of his chest, just a light sheen of sweat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Blaine says, and it comes out in this broken, stupid way that’s a little embarrassing, but Kurt smiles, glancing away.

“God, you have�no idea�how you look right now, Blaine.”

“Kurt…”

“I’m afraid to hurt you,” Kurt admits after a moment, hands stroking Blaine’s thighs.

“Remember…remember, I’m a masochist? You said. Maybe I’ll like it,” Blaine says, smiles to show he’s teasing.

Kurt looks like he’s laughing but there isn’t a sound. He touches Blaine’s cock, teases the spot between the base and his balls and Blaine squirms.

“Please, Kurt…”

Kurt nods and leans in, and Blaine feels the head of his cock press up against his entrance. Kurt takes a breath and starts to push in, and oh god,�oh god. It’s nothing like Kurt’s fingers had been, not even close. It’s all intense, blunt pressure, and wow, he doesn't feel two seconds away from coming now.

“Blaine.” And this time it’s Kurt’s voice that sounds broken. His face dips down close, and he’s pushing slowly, so slowly.

Blaine closes his eyes, trying to keep the sounds threatening to break free�down, but something hoarse escapes anyway, and Kurt stops moving.

“You okay?”

Blaine takes two deep breaths and nods. “Just keep—keep moving.”

Kurt peppers a few sloppy kisses along his face, shifts, and the drag of Kurt’s cock along his rim sends sparks up his spine, elicits a helpless whimper.

“Jesus, Blaine, you have no�idea—”

Kurt stops, and must be in all the way. Blaine’s hands are shaking, but sure, and bring Kurt’s head down, kissing him, feeling a rush of aching warmth because this is Kurt�inside�him. Kurt, the first boy he’s ever loved, who he’s everything with, now.� He wants Kurt so completely, his fingers tighten, body becomes impatient.

“More, Kurt.�Need�you,” he begs against Kurt’s mouth, lips still touching.

Kurt makes a sound of affirmation, and slides a hand up Blaine’s thigh, slowly pulling back. The drag of his cock makes Blaine gasp, moan just a little. Kurt starts to thrust, slow, shallow strokes, staring down like he’s trying to work out the best way to do this, eyelids heavy and mouth parted like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

“So tight,” Kurt is whispering, and all Blaine can say is�please, please.

Kurt’s thrusts pick up speed, gaining confidence, and all at once that overwhelming feeling is back. Blaine keens, shaking pleas and attempts at coaxing Kurt for�more�tumble from his mouth, his fingers hold tight, scrabbling to find purchase on Kurt’s body, hips jerking, wanting. Kurt is sweating, panting, rolling his hips with his eyes on Blaine’s, face flushed and eyes dazed. Blaine can feel his desperation just as much as he can his own.

“Touch yourself,” Kurt says, swiping his tongue over his lower lip.

Blaine groans from the sight of Kurt’s tongue, the thought of touching himself in front of Kurt, and hesitates only a moment before complying. He wraps his hand around his cock, strokes fast, hissing in relief.

“Yeah,” Kurt moans. “You’re so hot, Blaine, so hot…”

Kurt re-adjusts, braces himself, and drags Blaine’s hips higher, fucking into him with increased speed. The movements are erratic as Kurt finds a new rhythm, but Blaine cries out, forgets to pump his hand because Kurt’s cock is rubbing that spot inside over and over and it’s�too much, he�can’t�anymore, jerks frantically and comes with a helpless shout.

Kurt keens, cut short by something like a growl, and he�pounds�into Blaine, stills after several fervent thrusts, fingers clamped hard enough to make Blaine whimper. Kurt’s coming, and Blaine reaches up to touch Kurt’s cheek, Kurt’s eyes flashing open and landing on Blaine’s.

Blaine smiles and starts to say something, but Kurt cuts him off with a kiss, tender and drawn out. Blaine hums appreciatively, smooths Kurt’s hair, cradles his face, lets him go only when he shifts away to pull out.

Kurt disposes of the condom, wipes up some of the mess with some tissues, and cuddles right up to Blaine, curling around his body. Blaine burrows into his warmth, kissing lazily at the underside of his jaw, the both of them still getting their breathing back to normal.

“Sorry if I was too rough, uh—”

“No, no, I—I might be sore or whatever later—I liked it,” Blaine tries to explain, raising his face so he can see Kurt. Kurt is smiling, a sated, sleepy look on his face.

“I know it may sound clich�, but that was really amazing.”

Blaine lets out a quiet laugh. “Would it be too clich� of me, then, to tell you I love you?”

Kurt smiles softly, dragging Blaine close for a kiss. “Then I’ll finish this clich�-off. I love you, too.”

----

They sleep for forty days and forty nights, until they’re the last boys on Earth.

Or at least, that’s what Blaine dreams.� It feels true in a way. The world is quiet and still and Blaine has never been so sluggishly tired, so boneless and content to stay cocooned in blankets and Kurt’s arms.

They wake sometime the next afternoon and kiss until morning breath is only a memory. They have sex again, just lube and their hands touching each other, kissing and stroking and watching each other’s faces, marveling at the flush they bring to each other’s cheeks, the swollen state of their lips. Kurt is more beautiful than anyone Blaine’s imagination could conjure up.

Blaine comes with Kurt’s name rolling off his tongue. Kurt’s eyebrows draw up, his own orgasm given over to Blaine. Blaine takes it, worshipfully. He kisses Kurt, both of them still worked up, heavy breathing, quiet moans, and whispers to him that he’s perfect.

Perfect, perfect.

----

Kurt says he’ll ask his dad if Blaine can stay over, but Blaine doesn’t want to push it, says it’s okay. Before Kurt leaves, he sings to Blaine, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long?”�They’re standing on Blaine’s porch with snow falling around them, cheeks rosy, hands cold and breath showing in white puffs. Blaine smiles and holds Kurt’s hands between his, joins in on the last verse, “Goodnight, my baby, sleep tight, my baby…”

Blaine watches Kurt drive away, and doesn’t go inside until his fingers start to feel numb.

He has a hard time falling asleep in bed alone that night.

----

School is a reality check, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it once did.

Blaine’s hand wants to reach for Kurt’s in the hallway, and though things shifted over the weekend, as far as Blaine knows, Kurt still isn’t ready to come out. Blaine well knows it isn’t his place, or anyone else’s, to make that decision for him. With two minutes to homeroom, now isn’t the time for a discussion, so Blaine contents himself with walking alongside Kurt.

They share secret smiles all day, texts that don’t say much but still manage to make Blaine grin. At lunch they steal away to the library, taking advantage of the fact that it is nearly deserted, and make out in the religious section in the back. Kurt is atheist and Blaine knows he takes some smug satisfaction in their choice of location. Before they leave, Blaine sends a mental prayer up, asking forgiveness but he is so in love.

Artie accuses Blaine of taking roofies and Rachel gives him a full-out lecture on drug use. Someone mentions Vitamin D, whatever that means, but Blaine assures them he hasn’t taken anything; he’s just happy.

Blaine had no idea a person could be this happy.

The final bell rings, and Kurt is waiting for him as his locker.

Blaine greets him with a wide smile. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Well, I thought I was driving a certain someone over to my house because it will be empty until around five, when my father gets home.”

Kurt’s grin is positively predatory, and Blaine wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss it like mad. He stops himself at the last moment, smile disappearing when he remembers Rachel’s announcement during homeroom.

“Crap, I can’t. Glee got moved from tomorrow to today because of some football thing. It shouldn’t take too long, though, and I can drive over when it’s done?” Blaine asks, hopeful and apologetic all at once.

Kurt doesn’t look annoyed, as Blaine expected, just thoughtful. “Can I come with you?”

Blaine’s mouth falls open. “To�glee club?”

“You’ve always been so adamant about me joining, so I’ve been giving it some thought…”

"Seriously?"

Kurt nods, a bashful smile on his face. Blaine is nothing short of astonished.

“You know I don’t want you to for me, right? I mean, sure, it’d be great to spend more time with you, but I want you to because I think�you�would like it,” Blaine says, stepping closer.

Kurt's smile gains confidence. "I know."

Blaine touches his hand, because he�has�to.

“Let’s go.”

----

The choir room is at the end of the hallway past the gym. This is the hallway they danced in not two days ago. Blaine points this out, and Kurt says he knows, his feet are still recovering from Blaine clomping all over them. Blaine rolls his eyes, about to snark back, when he feels the collar of his shirt pull back sharply and suddenly against his windpipe. He gasps and flails, but it’s too fast and he’s yanked backwards, unbalanced, and slams into the wall.

Blaine registers pain, Kurt shouting, but then there's nothing but the angry face in front of his.

“You’re asking for it now,” Karofsky growls. He turns to where Kurt is trying to pull his arm away to free Blaine. “What the hell happened to you, Hummel?” Karofsky’s attention returns to Blaine. “You think you can turn�everybody�into a fag?”

“Wha—”

Karofsky slams Blaine into the wall again before he can even form an answer. “Huh!?”

“Get�off�him!” Kurt screams.� It’s so loud Blaine looks away from Karofsky, missing Karofsky’s fist until it connects with his�face.

There’s an�explosion�of pain, not in one place, not just his nose or his jaw, it’s his entire�head, and Blaine grasps at Karofsky to fend him off, but crumples to the floor. Blaine cannot�see�at the moment, can only hear Kurt's, “Don’t touch him!”

When things have stopped spinning enough and the world around him makes a little more sense, Blaine hears it again, “Don’t touch him—get the fuck away from him!” Kurt has gotten between Blaine and Karofsky, hands in fists and poised to lunge.

“He’s�mine.”

Blaine stares in shock, too frozen to move, to help. He tastes the tangy salt of blood in his mouth and ignores it, because Kurt just said. He just said…

“You’re fucking�sick,” Karofsky says, voice pitched low in morbid wonder.

“I’m not the sick one and you know it,” Kurt spits, words rushed from how heavy Kurt is breathing, how angry he is. “And if you ever get near him again you’re�done, Karofsky. He’s mine and I mean it.”

“Yeah, who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me,” comes a voice, at first unrecognizable to Blaine’s ears. His face whips to the left, where Rachel is walking out the choir room door. Karofsky’s face lifts at first, starts to smile, but quickly diminishes.

“We are.”

The entirety of New Directions file into the hallway, standing between Blaine and Karofsky. Blaine can’t see Karofsky’s face, but it doesn’t matter, because Kurt’s attention is on him now. Blaine realizes he still hasn’t gotten up, because Kurt is crouching down by him, mouth tight and eyes worried as they check every inch of his face.

“—Puck is�not�gonna be happy, you know Kurt’s his boy,” Santana is saying, but Blaine loses track again when Kurt’s fingers touch cool against his forehead and jaw.

“You didn’t have to say that,” Blaine says, voice hushed, feeling his face heat up at the look in Kurt’s eyes.

“I may not be ready to march with a rainbow flag, but,” Kurt shrugs a little, self-conscious, “I’m getting there. I’m proud of who I really am, and I’m proud to be your boyfriend.”

Blaine smiles so hard he winces. “…Ow.”

Kurt cringes in sympathy. “If he broke your nose I will break his�dick.”

Blaine huffs out a surprised laugh and it�hurts. “Oh god, don’t do that—”

“What’s going on here?”

Blaine and Kurt both look up to find Mr. Schuester taking in the scene, an alarmed expression on his face.

----

With a dozen witnesses, a teacher on the scene mere moments after the assault occurred, Blaine’s quite visible injury coupled with Karofsky’s prior offense, and the school’s no tolerance physical violence policy, Karofsky’s expulsion is almost a sure thing.

Everyone insists on going to Figgins’ office, Rachel the loudest of all of them. She storms in ahead of Schuester, threatening to call her fathers, member of the civil rights union, if the school doesn’t do anything about Karofsky.

Everything gets explained, documented. The nurse is brought down to check Blaine for serious injury. He is fine. He is better than fine, really, because Kurt doesn’t leave his side once. Blaine keeps looking at him in wonder. Kurt is risking everything for him.

Mr. Schuester announces that glee club is cancelled for the day, and Blaine nearly leaps from his seat in protest.

“No, Mr. Schuester. You don’t have to do that on account of me.”

“Blaine, I don’t think—”

“Really, Mr. Schue. It would…give me something nice to focus on,” he tries, glancing at Kurt.

Kurt was about to maybe join glee club, and Blaine wants it more than he can say. He doesn’t want to wait another two days. He doesn’t want to take the chance that Kurt will change his mind. Kurt is his boyfriend and now everyone knows. Now Kurt can do anything he wants.

"And we have a new recruit."

----

As if the confrontation with Karofsky wasn't enough to make Blaine's friends wonder, Kurt takes his hand on the way to the choir room. The walk back is quiet, but their curious looks say enough. Blaine doesn't feel like explaining just yet and is relieved no one asks.

Blaine lets go of Kurt's hand to take his seat. He sits in the first row, ice bag clutched to his jaw, eyes unmoving from where Kurt stops, front and center.

Kurt is standing ram-rod straight, gaze following the others as they sit and look back at him. There is an undercurrent of trepidation, but through it, Kurt's head is held high. Blaine can hardly believe it, the courage it has to take to stand, utterly vulnerable, in front of a group of people who you've made hate you for years. Kurt is willingly exposing two of his deepest secrets to a room where the majority despises him; his sexuality and his voice.

Blaine is so moved by Kurt's bravery.

"Hi. I'm Kurt Hummel," he says when everyone is settled and silent. No one says a thing. Kurt's eyes flit along their faces. Rory looks puppy dog excited, but Blaine knows the rest will be harder to win over.

"I know I've been awful to most of you. You probably don't want me here, and I understand. I'm sorry for the things I've done and said, and I hope I can make it up to you before the school year is over.

"Someone important to me wanted me to join, so you can blame him for this." Kurt is smiling at him, and Blaine’s nervousness ebbs away.

"I want to dedicate this song to him. To Blaine."

The piano begins to play, a slow and familiar melody, and Blaine’s smile deepens. Kurt closes his eyes a moment, takes a deep breath, and begins to sing. His eyes meet Blaine's upon reopening, and Blaine's heart swells with love and pride. He knows it must show on his face from the way Kurt is looking back at him.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…"