Now that he thinks about it, Kurt figures coming to the protest wasn't such a good idea.

He stays almost exclusively at Brittany's side, chatting both with her and Santana while they wait for Rachel to take the stage.  Finn keeps trying to pull him into a conversation with Blaine, and even though they're technically still on speaking terms (because that wasn't' their first argument, not by far), talking to Blaine makes Kurt feel a little hollow.

Quinn comes over a few minutes before Rachel's debut, shooting him a sympathetic glance before quickly introducing herself to Blaine, Brittany, and Santana.  "Thanks for coming, guys.  Rachel really appreciates the support."

"Anything for Rachel," Brittany sighs, rolling her eyes fondly.

Smiling, Quinn nods and moves to squeeze Kurt's hand.  "Looks like Jesse showed up.  Brought some friends, too."

Following her nod reveals Jesses surrounded by a small pack of policemen.  There's a sinking feeling in the pit of Kurt's stomach when he remembers the deal to stop Rachel's protest and the almost careless way they'd put it aside.

They make eye-contact, and Kurt swears for a second he sees some compassion, maybe even remorse, in those endless pits, but Kurt's looking away before he can be sure.

"Think they'll try to stop it?" Kurt asks, devotion to Rachel setting him a bit on edge.

Genuine concern flashes past Quinn's features, but it's quickly smoothed away when she seems to realize that she's letting it show.  "They shouldn't, not unless things get out of control."  She turns her attention to everyone in the group.  "I'll be up working the lights, so I'll need you guys to keep an eye on things down here.  Just to make sure no one tempts the police to make a scene."

Finn nods vigorously behind his camera.  "Sure thing."

The lights onstage flicker, causing Quinn to jump a bit.  "Oh!  That's the two minute warning!"  She claps her hands together before reaching up on her toes a bit to peck Kurt on the cheek.  "Enjoy the show!"

Kurt watches her scurry away with a fond smile.

"Dude," Finn hisses, reaching around Brittany to pinch his step-brother's arm.  "You never told me you and Quinn were, like, cool with each other."

Rolling his eyes and rubbing at his abused arm, Kurt returns with, "Rachel's my best friend, Finn.  Of course I'm cool with her girlfriend."

Finn's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but honestly, Kurt could care less right now.  He's too busy avoiding eye contact with Blaine, who keeps trying to make it.

In fact, he's tired of thinking, so he turns away completely and patiently faces the stage.

When Rachel finally steps out, all sex appeal and passion, the small crowd goes nuts.

Honestly, Blaine could care less about Rachel Berry's protest.  Not that he isn't her friend or that he doesn't support the cause, just that he's focused on something a little more...important.

On Kurt.

It's clear that something's wrong with him, what with the stiff line of his jaw and the uncomfortable way he's holding himself.

Blaine can almost say for sure that it's because he's here.

Sure, they've fought before, and always about the same things, but their last argument was the first time Blaine ever pushed the other man away.

Usually, their fights ended with Kurt in his arms, the two of them clinging to each other while the world fell to pieces around them.

Blaine was just tired of wanting something he was sure he couldn't have.

And now...

Finn nudges him in the side and nods at the stage.  "Come on, man, participate."

On stage, Rachel is smiling expectantly while shouting "Moo with me!  Moo with me!"

Copying her motion, Blaine cups his hands around his mouth and very poorly mimics a cow.  The entire crowd follows suit and from the corner of his eye, he sees that even Kurt has taken part.

Suddenly, the entire protest is kind of exhilarating.

Drunk on their own rebellion, people have their fists in the air.  They shout their approval and whisper their awe.  Rachel's voice is electric, inspiring.  It is art, and that thought alone makes Blaine feel alive for the first time in months.

He's pretty sure Kurt even smiles at him.

It's perfect and magical and something otherworld-ly.  Everyone fighting for the same thing, connected by the same sort of passion. 

And then, all hell breaks loose.

From where he is, Blaine can't really see how it starts.  He hears Finn curse under his breath and just about dies when he looks down to see Kurt's hand wrapped around his wrist.

Suddenly, he's being pulled through a crowd of angry, vicious protestors.

He's nearly knocked over multiple times, but Kurt helps regain his balance every time he stumbles.

He watches in horror as people throw themselves at the policemen.  Their attempts are quickly thwarted by nightclubs and knees to the groin.  Though everyone is screaming, it's Rachel's voice that he hears best.

She's running back and forth across the stage, waving her hands and shrieking "Don't!  Please stop!  This was supposed to be peaceful!"

No one pays her any attention, desperate as they are to get to Jesse, who Blaine can no longer see amidst the madness.

He catches a glimpse of Finn towering over everyone else, camera in hand even as he's jostled to and fro.  Santana and Brittany are a few feet ahead of he and Kurt, broken from the crowd and making for the street.

Kurt looks over his shoulder and shoots Blaine a wide smile, and nothing else matters.  Warmth curls tight in Blaine's stomach, surprisingly pleasant. 

Breaking free from the crowd is like breathing after hours under water.  The cold, New York air is light in Blaine's lungs, lifting him a little higher than he already is.  Kurt's hand on his wrist slides down and, with a soft blush, he intertwines their fingers.

If there wasn't a riot breaking behind them, everything would be perfect...

"Life Café?" Blaine blurts.  "I mean, w-we're supposed to meet everyone there."

Something shifts in Kurt's eyes.  Blaine's stomach flips.  "Come with me."

And because Blaine would follow him anywhere, anytime, he goes.

By the time Finn finally untangles himself from the small mob, most people have either left or been carted off in police cars.

Before heading towards the café, there's something kind of important he has to do.

Pulling his camera to his chest, he heads straight towards the heart of the city.

Straight towards Buzzline.

"I can't believe him," Rachel huffs, pulling her coat tighter around her torso.

Quinn reaches over to smooth out a crease on her girlfriend's shoulder.  "I know, I know."

"I mean, we used to be friends!  Then, the asshole marries my birthmother, and everything we ever fought for together goes straight down the drain!"

"He's threatening to kick Finn, Blaine, and Kurt out of their apartment, you know."

"Are you serious?"  She turns the corner with a few nervous looks shot her way, but she's easily able to ignore them.  "Oh, that bastard's so going to regret ever stepping on my babies' toes!"

She flips her hair over her shoulder and marches across the street towards the café.  Suddenly though, as if struck by some sort of idea, she stops.

When Quinn stops beside her, she opens her mouth as if to say something, but seems to think better of it.

"Rachel, wha - "

Whatever words are on Quinn's tongue are cut off abruptly by the fierce, possessive press of Rachel's mouth against her own.  Her body does slack in Rachel's hold and, despite a firm distaste towards PDA, she willingly pulls her girlfriend closer.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispers, gasping a bit when Rachel's hands move to cup her ass.  "Forget the riot, you were amazing up there."

Rachel giggles mischievously.  "Yah, you think so?"

"Baby, I know so."

Santana has her arm around Brittany's waist while she plays almost lazily with the other girl's hair.  They're perched on a bench outside of the café, breathing warmth into the cold air while they wait for their friends.

"Think maybe they got lost?" Brittany asks seriously.

Stifling a snort, Santana gently kisses her girlfriend's forehead.  "Doubt it, babe.  They're just around the corner.  Rachel and Quinn are probably cleaning up while Finn tries to sell whatever footage he got."

"And Kurt and Blaine?"

A knowing, mischievous smile curls across Santana's features.  "Well, if the sexual tension was anything to go by, I'd bet any amount of money they're banging behind a dumpster somewhere."

"Tana!"

This time, Santana doesn't even try to hide her laugh.  "Come on, Brit.  Those two are worse than cats in heat!"

"Tana, they're in love."

"Well, duh.  I've only known them a few days and I could tell you that.  The problem is just that they've been running around it for so long..."  She trails off and waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Brittany giggles against Santana's neck.  "They have been going at it for a while now."

"All the best love stories take time."

"...what about us?"

"Brit, it took me a month to tell you how I felt.  The gay twins are insane for waiting as long as they have.  Those couple weeks just about killed me."  Her smile falters a bit, but Brittany doesn't see it.  "Besides, we're special.  We don't need all that time."

Not like we really have it, anyway.

Kurt drags Blaine down the alley between the café and the neighboring boutique.

A soft layer of snow is settling around them, encompassing the world in a shivering chill that they're too warm to feel.  It's quiet, like they're standing safely in their own little world.  Nothing can touch them.

Kurt stops walking towards the end, pulling his hand away while a nervous blush crawls across his cheeks.

He bites his lip shyly, and Blaine wants to kiss him so bad it hurts.

"Look," Kurt starts, shifting his eyes anxiously.  "There's something I should - "

"Wait," Blaine interjects suddenly.  He dons his own blush, ducking his head bashfully.  "I have...I have to apologize, Kurt."

"Blaine..."

"All we do is fight anymore, Kurt, and I hate hurting you like I do."  He looks away while his eyes burn, because all of a sudden every bitter thing between them is just too much.  "I just..."

"Blaine."  Kurt takes a step closer and cups Blaine's face in his hands.  His own eyes are watering, but there's a small smile on his face.  "Stop apologizing for the past, okay?  We've both made our mistakes; nothing can change that.  But we have now; we have this moment, so shut up and kiss me."

Blaine stops breathing.

"Blaine, kiss me."

Kurt drags a hand down to rest on the shorter man's shoulder.  His breath comes out in short, uneven bursts.  Even in the dark, Blaine can count every single freckle dusting his cheeks.  His eyes are bright with nerves and expectancy, swirling with light and, Blaine thinks, love.

The world stops.

Keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's, Blaine very slowly curls his arms around the other man's waist.

Inside the café, their friends are shoving a row of tables together.  Rachel is flipping Jesse off every time he tries to apologize.  Finn hops up on the nearest tabletop, waving his arms excitedly while announcing Buzzline's agreement to buy his footage on the riot.  Rachel hops up beside him while their fellow patrons clap their approval, pulling Quinn up with her and motioning for Brittany and Santana to do the same.  A tired waiter gives up on trying to stop them, slinking back into the kitchen with a strained sigh.

Outside, two people are falling into each other.

Outside, Kurt Hummel is falling even more in love with Blaine Anderson.

And Blaine Anderson is falling a little more in love with Kurt Hummel.

Blaine is careful to memorize the feel of Kurt's body, mapping the lines and curves across his palms.  They fit perfectly, and the hopeless romantic in Blaine wants to think it's because they were made for each other.

"Kurt, I should tell you - "

"Later," Kurt hushes him, bumping their noses in anticipation.  His fingers curl a little tighter around Blaine's shoulder to keep them from shaking.

I've been waiting so long for this, for you.

"Please."

That, Blaine cannot refuse.

Angling his head just right, Blaine moves to place a very simple, very chaste kiss right on Kurt's mouth.

When Kurt whimpers, a desperate groan builds in Blaine's throat.  He slams their mouths together and reaches up to twine his fingers through Kurt's hair.

Kurt tightens his hold around Blaine possessively, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip in a silent and burning demand for entrance.

A shutter races down Blaine's spine as he lets Kurt in and suddenly their tongues are touching and they're pressed so close together and nothing else will every matter as long as he has this and oh, why didn't he kiss Kurt sooner?

Inside, there's dancing and singing and flashing, but knowing that wouldn't change anything.  They'd still be here, tasting each other for the first time like two clumsy teenagers.

Everything is shaking fingers and choked gasps and I should tell him, I should tell him.

"Wait, wait," Kurt pants, beaming almost drunkenly when Blaine tries to go in for another kiss.

Blaine whines a little but relents and rests his forehead against Kurt's shoulder.  He settles one hand on Kurt's neck while the other remains settled on his hip.

"There's something you need to know before we...before you decide that you want this..."

Blaine looks up and has to stand a little on his toes to place a fierce, hard kiss on Kurt's forehead.  "Don't, Kurt.  I've wanted you long enough to know that nothing will ever change that."

Blinking suddenly watery eyes, Kurt has to look away.  He knows Blaine won't be disgusted, not when he's plagued by the same troubles, but it's still a possibility.  Kurt is too used to people turning him away to believe entirely that Blaine won't want to leave the moment he hears what Kurt has to say, but he knows he needs to do it.

He refuses to keep anything from Blaine.

Sweet, caring, perfect Blaine. 

Kurt won't deny him the truth.

"I'm sick."

And just like with Mercedes, Kurt doesn't need to elaborate anymore.  Blaine's eyes widen, although in shock rather than disgust or disappointment.

The hand on Kurt's waist presses a bit harder, and when Kurt looks back, he sees that Blaine is crying, yes, but with a smile on his face.

Blaine's hand slides from his neck to cup his chin, forcing their eyes to meet and stay locked.  "Kurt, that changes nothing.  I still want this, I still want you."

A rush of relief washes through Kurt's body.  He sags against Blaine, burying his head against the other man's neck.  "Y-you're sure?"

Blaine lets out a breathless sort of laugh.  "I've never been surer about anything in my entire life."

And that's the truth, isn't it?   To Blaine, nothing has ever made more sense that the appearance of Kurt in his life.  Though he tried constantly to push the other man away, scared as he was by the faults he saw there, nothing could really keep them separate for very long.  They were drawn to each other like magnets, unable to fight the pull that would inevitably bind them.

And that's definitely not a bad thing.

Because, well, all the best love stories take time.

And Blaine thinks maybe they have enough to make this work.

Although quite a bit late, Kurt and Blaine still find themselves in that café, standing on tabletops and belting lyrics into the night while strangers pluck notes from homemade and broken instruments.  Their friends congratulate them sincerely, sarcastically scolding them for taking so long.

Together, that group of friends very near literally brings the house down.

Their laughter can be heard for miles, reverberating off of the city's streets in electric currents.    Their voices carry far down abandoned alleyways and through empty warehouses.

They don't have forever, these people.  In fact, most of them probably won't even live to see an age over fifty.  Some will fall sooner than others.  Some will leave marks big enough to stain; others will leave ones small enough to move through the streets undetected. 

But, when it all comes down to it, these people are okay.

They're alright.

They're happy.

And maybe that's all that matters.