Kurt adjusts his position on the piano stool that he has put up in front of his old keyboard. He sighs. This'll just have to do.

They sold his piano at some point in time, when Kurt stopped taking actual lessons and began to rather invest his money in expensive outfits.

Yet, they've kept the wooden stool, since Kurt's nightstand lamp looked good on top of it, and he liked the intricate carvings.

At home and for now, that leaves only his outdated keyboard to practice on from time to time and prevent his skills from getting too rusty.

Still, somewhere inside him Kurt knows with certainty, that he will own a piano again. He just can't imagine his future house without one.

He lays his fingers onto the keys to test the feel, and glances over to Blaine.

His boyfriend sits on top of the covers of his bed Indian style, rocking and bouncing very slightly on the mattress, probably not even aware of it.

His features are all expectancy and anticipation.

"Kurt, I'm so honoured, an actual song, really?"

Kurt smiles at him.

"Yes, Blaine, really. Although I would have preferred a more appropriate setting for this momentous performance..." – A half-wink and a generous gesture of his hand - "You know, dramatic lighting, concert hall acoustics and a grand piano..."

He lets that picture painted in the air between them linger, and Blaine hums his approval.

"Oh, I think I can fill that in with my imagination." A thought makes Blaine tilt his head to the side. "But then I think I won't. Because I kind of like this, too, here, setting and all. Has its own charm and magic."

Blaine smiles sweetly at Kurt, and Kurt acknowledges him with a rather regally inclined head.

"So, can we get started?"

Blaine nods emphatically.

"Okay, good." Kurt clears his throat and places his hands on the keys again.

This is so different to performing for an audience, he thinks. It's Blaine, and so Kurt wants this to be special. Yet, this is about the gesture and not perfectionism, he reminds himself.

But, after all, he's more excited than nervous, anyway.

"So, Blaine, here goes, this is your song."

He begins playing the first few notes.

"Oh, is this actually Your Song?"

Kurt stops and takes in a breath in mock offence about the interruption.

He throws his boyfriend a look and Blaine hurries to elaborate.

"I mean, Your Song, as in, by Elton John?"

Kurt's tone is indulgent.

"Yes, Blaine, it's Elton John's song, but its also your song. Well, actually, it's kind of my song, too, since I wrote the lyrics and only borrowed the melody."

Blaine's eyebrows are up in amusement and Kurt has to hold back a chuckle at his own blabbering as well.

"But, so, yeah, it's your Your Song, kind of."

"My Your Song?"

"Yes, Blaine, now do you wanna hear it, or not?"

Blaine struggles to smooth the grin out of his features and resume a look of rapt attention.

Quickly Kurt turns his eyes away to the sheet music, or else he is not sure he'll be able to go through with this without cracking up himself.

He sits up straight and starts over with the melody, this time uninterrupted.

The version he's chosen is an intimate, simple arrangement, and Kurt plays it just like that, without excessive agitation.

When he starts to sing, it's in a comfortable lower range he doesn't use so often, but it makes his voice sound mellow and easy.

"So, I wasn't quite sure, Blaine, when I started out

which beautiful feature of yours, I should make this song about;

it's not that they're so few, that I can't think of one,

it's that I can't decide, because the list is so long..."

Kurt can't help mirroring Blaine's smile, but he grants himself only half-glances at his boyfriend to keep up his concentration.

This really is different to performing other people's songs. These are his own lyrics.

He begins the second verse with a tinge of honest reverie to his tone.

"I could sing about your face, or your invincible charm;

your warm eyes, voice, hands or lips, I'm really quite torn;

yet there is this one thing, that makes me stop and stare;"

Kurt takes a short breath and does allow a touch of good natured drama into his voice for this:

"You might have guessed it by now: this song's about your hair."

He has to. Kurt looks to Blaine to see his boyfriend's face has fallen a little in surprise at this turn. Blaine blinks tardily, lips ajar and eyebrows up even higher.

Kurt feels his own features twitch in a grin and tries to compensate by leaning into the chords with a bit more force, lunging into the chorus.

"So you can tell by one look at me, that I really do care

about a style that's smart and classy, when it comes to hair;

yet, Blaine, the thing is,

with you the thing is,

you lock each curl in place...

when all I long to see for once, 's them falling freely in your face."

Kurt can hear Blaine laugh, and his fingers play the interlude by heart, because his focus is almost lost when he turns his head to take in his boyfriend.

Blaine has that look that is so hard to fathom out for Kurt, but there is obviously laughter, silent now, or too soft to hear above the melody.

And there is something deeper, more private, shining in his boyfriend's eyes.

Kurt braces himself and raises his voice again, his eyes glued to the sheet for the beginning of the next verse, a tingle in his stomach.

"So I really wanna see you, stripped down and bare..."

He can feel Blaine's look on him and himself blush under it, despite his resolution not to.

"And I innocently mean by that: without product in your hair;"

Another breathy sound of amusement from Blaine, and Kurt's voice comes easier again.

"So that when we kiss, I can run my fingers through,

without fear of getting stuck, and hurting you..."

Blaine's eyes meet Kurt's when he glances over. They are radiant with laughter.

Kurt smiles and puts a little more theatricality in his tone, playfully venturing.

"So, babe, let your curls unfold, let them come undone.

I want to see them wild and untamed, hence Sir Elton John."

Kurt searches out Blaine's eyes and pours his full meaning into their connection.

"So let your head be messy with me, inside and out."

He shrugs it off a little in a tone that's lighter only on the surface.

"That's all that I want to say, and what this song's about."

During the short interlude Kurt has to lower his eyes. He doesn't know if it is from suppressed laughter or something else when he has to sing with a little more effort against a sudden but thankfully fleeting tightening of his throat.

"So you can tell everybody, with whom you want to share,

that your boyfriend's crazy 'bout you, and likes big hair.

I hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind,

just wanna make you see,

that you can let loose a little, when you are with me."

Kurt repeats the refrain, and as if to prove a point, has his piano playing become less exact and more passionate for the finale, the melody interpreted more freely.

He gets into it with a few mock dramatic faces, only half-serious, but nonetheless heartfelt.

"So you can tell everybody, with whom you care to share,

that your boyfriend's crazy 'bout you and yes, he really likes your hair.

You see the thing is,

with you the thing is,

I just wanna make you see...

Blaine..."

And Kurt addresses his boyfriend with a direct look as he pauses, much like before, warm eyes filled with humour but yet a lot more:

"...be the mess we all just are sometimes, when you're here with me."

His fingers repeat the melody of the last line, letting it trail and become softer, slower.

"You can strip off all pretence, being here with me."

He plays it one final time.

"Yes, you can just be yourself, ... and I'll be me."

The last words he rather speaks, with that light shrug of voice and body again.

Then, Kurt takes a second and a breath, before he turns on his stool and looks up to meet Blaine's eyes.

What he finds in them makes the flush rise in his cheeks again, as nothing could possibly be any more intimate for its sheer intensity alone.

For a moment they just stare.

Then Blaine cocks his head to the side and the sparkle of his eyes reaches into to his tone, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"So, you want me to strip?"

Kurt falters on his seat, but it is half-hearted, because the way Blaine says the words and continues gazing at him keeps him in the moment.

"Of course that would be what you make of it..." He murmurs it with a pout and rolling eyes but there is no hardness to his tone, and he feels he is actually getting a little shy.

By then Blaine is next to him, crouching before him and taking both Kurt's hands in his.

"Don't listen to me, Kurt, I'm just kidding. That was the sweetest thing ever."

The chuckle Blaine offers sounds a little self-deprecating.

"And of course I would be cracking jokes, just to cover up how really touched and moved I am right now."

Kurt looks down, lets out a long, soft breath, and doesn't meet Blaine's eyes yet, watching their joined hands with a thought tilting his head a little sideways.

When he finally lets their eyes connect, Kurt's voice is calm and tender.

"Why cover up?" He once more half-shrugs the question, making a point again, rather, than actually asking.

He waits and watches as something in Blaine's expression shifts. Watches his gaze narrow and darken for a moment. Then watches it clear up and become straight, as if something has sunk in.

"You're right." Blaine leans forward, crouching still with knees bent, and steadies his weight he's been balancing on the balls of his feet against Kurt, looking up.

"You are right."

Kurt nods once with a smile, then Blaine's lips are on his. He pulls Kurt's head down and himself up ever so slightly in a kiss, that is a little urgent, but conveys so much of what Blaine couldn't find the words for.

Then he stops, stands and drags Kurt to his feet as well, walking the few steps backwards, leading Kurt, hands in his again, and brings them down to sit on the bed next to each other.

His voice is filled with something that makes Kurt's heart stumble in his chest.

"So, I'll let you mess up my hair,... if I get to mess up yours?"

Kurt draws in a deep breath, and furrows his brow as if he had to actually think about it, pretending to ponder the thought, weigh options, and waver.

Still, when Blaine's mouth falls open in mock disbelief and indignation, both can't help but burst into laughter.

Laughter that mixes with kisses and more laughter.

Kurt curls his fingers gently into the hair at the back of Blaine's head, drawing him closer still.

"Okay, okay. You've got yourself a deal."