"But it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note, 'The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars / But in ourselves."

-The Fault In Our Stars
John Green

"The more you try to crush your true nature, the more it will control you. Be what you are. No one who really loves you will stop."

-City of Fallen Angels
Cassandra Clare

"She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance – shattered it. He had let the walls down when he'd thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up."

-Infernal Devices
Cassandra Clare

"Hold your tongue, hold it tight, or we'll be destined to fall like the sun did tonight . . . You know if we never say, we'll never crash and burn, 'cause love is a four letter word."

-'4 Letter Word'
David Cook

"So this is the Kurt I met at Thanksgiving, right?"

Blaine and his older brother Cooper were cleaning the dishes after dinner, Cooper washing and Blaine drying and putting them away. Cooper was home for a couple weeks, having just wrapped up a movie wanting to spend time with his family (which was code for: I messed up another audition). As soon as they were alone - their parents liked to hover - Blaine explained to him what had happened between Kurt and him at the zoo.

"Yes. Tall, brown hair and blue eyes."

Cooper nodded. "Handsome kid. Good head on his shoulders. You made each other really happy."

A stab of guilt cut through Blaine like a knife; what he did to Kurt had been inexcusable. Kurt didn't deserve that from him. That's why the older boy was better off without him.

"So why did you break up, again? You only mentioned that you did."

Blaine sighed heavily, distracting himself by drying a plate very thoroughly and carefully storing it away in the cabinet above his head. "Kurt was . . . too good for me."

"What are you talking about?" Cooper had stopped now, turning completely around to face him. Unlike Blaine, Cooper had clear blue eyes, which reminded him very much of Kurt's though they weren't even close in color. But like with Kurt, Blaine could always see his brother's emotions so reflective and spelled-out. Unlike himself, who was guarded, both men found no problem displaying their thoughts and feelings to the rest of the world. Blaine hadn't forgotten how well they'd gotten along; after Kurt's initial reaction of giddy shock, they'd found a common interest of cinema and had a very lengthy discussion that even Blaine couldn't follow. At the time he was just so happy to see Kurt and his family making an effort to become closer.

"I was only going to disappoint him if he stayed with me any longer." It wasn't exactly what Blaine planned to say, but he had trouble finding the right words. "And obviously that's what I did."

"What did you tell him?" Cooper folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the counter. Blaine smiled wistfully, noticing the sweater he was wearing was one Blaine had bought him for Christmas. Kurt had picked it out, saying how well the baby blue would flatter him; naturally he was right.

"Nothing, actually. I didn't have to. You know the musical I'm working on?" He waited until Cooper nodded, still wary and confused. "I made the mistake of leaving one of the songs lying around. He saw it and got upset by it."

"But how would he know that it was about him?"

"Because it had his name in it."

"Oh." Cooper put his head in his hands, obviously embarrassed or sympathizing for his brother. "Blaine." Blaine's face fell as he registered the note of disappointment in his voice.

"I cut him loose."

"Huh?"

"He told me that he loves me, Cooper and I can't . . . I couldn't say it back. If I acknowledged it, it would be so much more – more real, you know? I can't do that. I'd feel too vulnerable."

"So you let him go?"

Blaine wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye, unaware of how it'd gotten there. "He's better off without me, Cooper. I know that. Look how much pain I've already caused."

Cooper looked considerate for a moment, digesting his younger brother's words. "But are you better off without him?"

Blaine tugged at his curls, a cocktail of confusion and panic rising in his body with the pulse of his heart, coming closer and closer to overtaking his brain.

"Do you love him?"

"No." But his voice quivered.

"Yes you do. So how much do you love him? Enough to write a whole musical around him – fine, I snooped through your things, what else is new." Cooper reached out to place a large hand on Blaine's shoulder, and that seemed to ground the curly-haired boy momentarily "I've never seen you so excited over someone – over anything – before you met that boy. It was the first time I've really seen you happy since you came out." Cooper took in a deep breath. "I know you've always resented yourself for your sexuality, Blaine – don't lie to me," he scolded when Blaine shook his head in dissent. "You pushed your feelings aside for years because you feared the retaliation. I wish it could have been easier for you . . . I wish I could have been there todo something. After you got hurt—" his voice sounded forced.

"Coop-" Blaine tried to interject, but Cooper wouldn't allow it.

"I never forgave myself. I should have been there earlier, but I was running late, and I thought you might like some more alone time with your date besides, and instead you were almost beaten to death—" He paused and collected himself. "Kurt gave me new hope for you. I thought maybe he was the one."

"Isn't that for me to decide?"

"Please," Cooper scoffed. "I know you better than you know yourself. I would have never let Kurt anywhere near you if I thought he'd hurt you, in any way. It seemed I should have been protecting him from you." Blaine's mouth twitched. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Blaine said honestly. "I don't think he'll take me back. I don't even know if that's what I want. I just . . . miss him, you know? Like there's this physical pain in my chest when I think about him or hear his name . . ."

"Sounds like you're suffering from a bad case of heartbreak, bud," said Cooper, patting him on the back gently in what was meant to be a soothing gesture, but somehow only made Blaine feel worse. "It's very common, and there's no known cure. You just have to find a way to get over it."

Blaine looked up at his brother, who was considerably taller than himself. "What happened to you, the first time you fell in love?"

Cooper's mouth twisted up in to a wry smile. "Well, I was about thirteen," he said. "You were much too young to remember, but there was this girl in my English class who I thought was so beautiful. On Valentine's Day I put a very colorful and very public poster on her locker telling her that I was in love with her."

Blaine laughed. "What happened?"

"She never even spoke to me. She threw it in the trash along with my heart."

"She sounds kind of like a bitch."

Cooper nodded. "She was. That's why it was so easy for me to move on from her. I realize I didn't like her as much as I'd thought, after I saw how she treated me. But as for you," he said, bringing them back to the issue at hand, "I think it will be much more difficult. Because, honestly, it's kind of all your fault."

Blaine punched his brother in the ribs, which only caused him to laugh. He was right, though, and Blaine hated to admit that. "I know." His eyebrow twitched slightly upward before he became serious again. "I just don't know what to do, though."

Cooper pulled him in for a sideways hug, aligning their bodies and wrapping one arm around Blaine's shoulders, pulling him in tight. "Well, first you have to ask yourself some things. Do you love Kurt?"

Blaine hesitated, as he did every time he asked himself that question. He had told Kurt he didn't believe in love, but that wasn't strictly true. In that moment, the lie had been much easier than the truth: that Blaine was afraid of love, and the vulnerability that came with it. "Yes."

"Do you want to be Kurt's boyfriend?"

This question was easier, because in Blaine's mind, the two things were unrelated. You could be in a relationship and not feel that way for one another. "Yes."

"Do you see a long-term future with this boy?"

Blaine's breath caught in his throat. He had always, all his life, been so focused on the present, absorbing all he could from what was happening around him at that specific moment in time, that he never looked ahead to what would happen next. Blaine's sole focus the past few months had been his musical and Kurt, and now one without the other meant nothing at all, because the musical was for Kurt. Blaine never imagined who he would end up with – didn't even know if he would end up anywhere at all – but if he had to decide, he knew Kurt would be a good choice. Blaine was flitting and impatient and everything with him was short-lived – settling down would mean having to give up that transitional life for one of monotony and monogamy. And that scared Blaine more than anything at all – giving up everything in the world, giving up his own heart – for this one human who could at any time choose to leave him for something or someone else. His parents had separated when he was young, after the loveless relationship and never-ending fighting became too much for them. After that, Blaine never believed he would marry and risk that kind of commitment when the repercussions were so severe. But he loved Kurt – now that he admitted it, it seemed to come to him much easier – and could feel it in the very core of his being. So if he had to lose everything, it would be worth it for Kurt. "Yes." And there was conviction in his voice. Not a hint of doubt.

"Then I think you have your answer."

"I love you," Blaine whispered, and his brother gripped him tighter.

"I love you too, bud. You'll get through it, I promise."

Kurt awoke that Saturday morning later than usual – he'd been sleeping a lot lately, his body shutting down to shake off this sickness that was plaguing him. But it wasn't a sickness; it was an affliction – a condition of the heart. He wasn't over Blaine's rejection, didn't know if he would ever be. The betrayal hurt more than anything else in his life, surpassed only but the event of his mother's death. Blaine's words had caused Kurt more pain than anything bullies had said to him in the past, because they came from a source of whom had once been his comfort and support.

He didn't need Blaine. Not if he didn't need him.

His alarm clock read ten fifteen: he would be late for work. He rubbed at his eyes, stretching his muscles and cracking his bones, trying to shake the sleep from his body. Kurt went in to the tire shop later than his father because of the need for extra beauty rest, usually rolling in around eleven to begin his secretarial duties. The last thing Kurt wanted was to put on a coverall and get his hair greasy. Most weekends working put a damper on Kurt's social plans, but that morning he could remember being more grateful for having something to keep him busy that day. He'd been going insane all week, seeing Blaine and not being able to talk to him or make eye contact. Without him, Kurt's days were becoming increasingly more suffocating. There was nothing and no one to alleviate the monotony of unbearably boring school days. Even Glee did nothing to cheer him up, instead reminding him of every single minute thing Blaine did that made Kurt fall in love with him.

And he couldn't understand it, still, even after a week and a half. How he could feel this way about someone, and that someone felt nothing of the same in return. Was it possible that Kurt had fallen too far and too fast, that Blaine had been trying to catch up to him but just didn't feel the same way? Kurt knew the answer to that question wasn't something he could handle.

Kurt showered quickly and dressed warmly, knowing Ohio would likely be blanketed in snow by noon. As Kurt grabbed for his jacket his fingers brushed against something soft on the hanger just beside it. Kurt pulled the sweatshirt from his closet instead and pulled it close to his chest, breathing in the fading scent of his ex-boyfriend all whilst knowing he would have to return it to him sometime soon. The thought of facing Blaine and actually having to speak words made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Kurt tugged on his own jacket after having carefully hung up Blaine's and put it back in his closet (what was the harm in keeping it for a few more days?) and carefully laced up his boots. By the time he made his way downstairs to a surprisingly empty house – maybe Finn was out with Rachel – and grabbed his keys from the dish by the door, it was almost eleven already and he still had a ten minute drive. After thanking every higher power, not for the first time, that he worked for his father and could afford to be late, he opened the front door and was met instantly with a sharp gust of cold air. It was already snowing, it seemed, and it looked more like a blizzard than a flurry. Kurt was having a hard time seeing three feet in front of his face, making his way carefully down his icy front steps. Because there wasn't enough room in the driveway, Kurt's Navigator was parked across the street, and he began tramping through the hard snow across the lawn.

"Going somewhere?"

Kurt nearly fell into the tall bunker of snow piled high on the side of the road. He turned around as fast as he could without slipping to see Blaine, wrapped up tightly in gloves and scarves, his face pink and splotchy from the bitter cold. Seeing him set off fireworks in Kurt's chest, and he knew he'd been lying to himself. He didn't hate Blaine, couldn't hate him when he was still so beautiful and so perfect standing right there in front of him. Kurt's breath caught in his throat, the way it always did when he was this close, and for a moment Kurt wondered if Blaine would kiss him. But no, of course he wouldn't, because they were no longer together. Because Blaine didn't really feel that way about Kurt. This was not some act of love; Blaine wasn't here to fight for him, to get him back.

"Why are you here?" Kurt wondered genuinely, because it was cold and he was waiting for him outside instead of knocking on his door, and because really he had no excuse to be visiting him at his home.

"I came to talk." Blaine was very calm, his face smooth and emotionless; his golden eyes were guarded, and Kurt almost screamed in frustration because he was never able to read Blaine, never able to get into his mind and see what he was thinking.

"About?" Kurt's haughtiness had returned before he was even aware of it, his arms folding across his chest protectively; Blaine had already done so much damage in that area, he wasn't about to let him reopen the wounds.

Blaine hesitated, clearly seeing how instantly the wall went up in Kurt's eyes, blocking his emotions from Blaine, much like the first time they met. Blaine hated that he was the one who forced Kurt back into that dishonest mask. "Do we have to do it here?" His fingers were already beginning to go stiff.

"Well, I wasn't planning on this being a long conversation. I have somewhere to be," said Kurt disdainfully, looking down upon Blaine.

"In this weather?"

Kurt raised one eyebrow but stayed silent, and Blaine took that as an invitation to continue.

"I'm sorry about what I said."

That was clearly not what Kurt had been expecting, because he let his guard down for an instant. "I do believe in love-"

"You don't have to lie to me—"

"And I believe in you," Blaine finished. Kurt's blue eyes were so bright, pinpoints of light like stars reflecting back at Blaine. "And I believe in us." Kurt was simply staring at him, clearly at a loss for words. "When you told me you loved me, it scared me. I was never so terrified in all my life." And as Blaine gained momentum, his eloquence returned. "I love you, Kurt, and I've never felt something more intensely in my whole life, and I . . . got scared. Because when you talk about love, teenagers always talk about forever and I've never really thought I'd be with anyone forever. My parents were in love and said forever and they had one of the messiest divorces I've known. I didn't want to be like my mom, who was so torn up about the split that she tried to commit suicide, or like my father, who dealt with his pain by sleeping with every woman he met. The only relationships I've ever known were messy and destructive, so I didn't want one if it was going to make me unhappy. But I liked you, and before I even realized it, we were in a relationship and I knew sooner or later you'd be expecting a commitment from me and I just . . . freaked out. I didn't want to get too involved and end up hurting you, and so I broke it off to avoid hurting you, which made no sense because I hurt you anyway . . ." Blaine paused to catch his breath from the rant. "I want to undo it. I want to start over, and I want to be with you again."

Kurt looked similar to a deer caught in a car's headlights, frozen to the spot both literally and figuratively. So many things passed through his mind, bits of Blaine's words that didn't add up because no, of course Blaine didn't want to get back together . . . but then what had he said? "The—the song," he stammered because there was something about the equation that still wasn't adding up.

"Was something that I'd written as part of a whole," Blaine replied immediately. "The musical I'm writing is for you, Kurt. About our relationship, about the stages of it. It's not how I feel about you now, it's about how I felt before, when I didn't really know what we were and where we were going, and I just really wish we could fix this because I love you I love you I love you—"

"Stop!" Kurt's voice was high and breathy, not a scream but certainly close to it. "Blaine, stop talking, I need to think—"

"But Kurt, if you would just listen—"

"I HAVE been listening! For five months, I've been there for you, I've lifted and supported you and loved you unconditionally. And the minute things get a little scary for you, you ran out! You left me when I needed you. How could you leave me, Blaine? How could you lie to me about what you were feeling? How could you have just abandoned me, left me alone? I've been going insane without you, wondering what I'd done to push you away, to make you hate me so much. I replayed our fight over and over, regretting everything I'd said, wishing I could take it back just to have more time with you, and now this?" Kurt was fuming, his breath coming heavy, leaving clouds of white hanging in the air around him. "Fuck you, Blaine."

Blaine dived for his mouth, pulling in the older boy and holding him there, kissing him soundly and wetly, and teeth clashed and tongues tangled and it wasn't romantic, it was noisy and passionate and all they needed to warm up, their cheeks flushed against the chill. Blaine pulled back warily, afraid Kurt would run away or worse, hit him, but he just stood there, looking up into Blaine's eyes. And the wall was coming down, crumbling before his eyes, and this was the most vulnerable he'd seen him, completely exposed to whatever Blaine would do or say. Blaine brushed a snowflake from his eyelashes and tilted his head up for a sweeter, softer kiss, conveying to Kurt everything that he had not been able to say with words – he wanted to marry him, have a family with him, could imagine a future for them when he couldn't even see one for himself. That one kiss pulled them down from the clouds and roughly back down on to Earth, Kurt being Blaine's anchor and Blaine being Kurt's. For the first time in a while Kurt felt grounded, like he wouldn't float away at any second. Yes, this was the boy Kurt could see himself spending every day of the rest of his life with. This was everything he ever wanted, everything he would ever need, standing right there in his arms, blinking up at him, and his eyes were liquid with tears and he knew – he knew – that Blaine was thinking the same thing, and that those were happy tears. And the last thing Kurt had spoken out loud was fuck you, Blaine, and they seemed vastly inadequate to leaving hanging in the silence, so he whispered "I love you" into the boy's ear, and this time Blaine said it back with just as much conviction.

Kurt took his hands, freezing even through his gloves, and pulled him back toward the house, going to work completely forgotten. Kurt fumbled for his keys to unlock the door because Blaine was staring at him, and his expression was hungry and Kurt's legs tingled with frostbite and possibilities of what might happen. The minute he turned the key and fumbled himself through the doorway Blaine was there, pressing him up against the door, his mouth slanted over Kurt's while he worked on unzipping his coat and untangling the scarf from around his neck. Kurt's hands trembled as they worked on the buttons of Blaine's jacket, tearing it from his shoulders just as Blaine yanked Kurt's sweater over his head. Their breathing was labored as they took the moment of separation to regain some form of control, but then Blaine's thumbs were running over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans and there was no oxygen, Kurt couldn'tbreathe. Then Blaine was unbuttoning his jeans and dipping his fingers lower, moving his mouth to bite harshly at the delicate skin at Kurt's neck, and oh God, that felt good. Kurt pushed him away, gesturing vaguely to the stairs and Blaine thankfully took the hint, running up the stairs with Kurt in tow, pulling his shirt up over his head as he went, and Kurt had a moment to admire the view of his tight rippling back muscles and his ass which was swaying back and forth in front of his face. Kurt pushed Blaine through his bedroom door and on to the bed, at once attacking his neck and licking the spots he created, relishing every moan that left Blaine's lips. They were unprepared, virgins in every way, but Kurt couldn't imagine wanting Blaine more than he did in this moment, when their hips slotted together and oh my God Blaine was right there . . . His hips pressed down in the same moment that Blaine's bucked up, and this was so new to them but it was right. Hands were everywhere, circling nipples and brushing over ribs, traveling down to clutch at hipbones and tight stomachs. They kissed until their lips were raw and swollen, crashing their hips together with needy whines and then Blaine's world came crashing down around him first, quickly followed by Kurt, both thrashing in ecstasy as their whimpers turned to screams.

Kurt collapsed on top of Blaine, who kissed the top of his head absentmindedly while stroking across his slick bare skin. "I love you," he heard Kurt murmur into his skin at the hollow of his throat, and he hummed appreciatively at the way Kurt was tracing circles on the inside of his bicep. Blaine's felt sticky and a little uncomfortably, but the way Kurt was blanketing him was too nice to pass up.

He looked to his left in the hope of finding tissues or something else to clean up with, but found something much more exciting than that. In the same place as it had been the last time he'd explored Kurt's room, was Blaine's note. It was worn out, the edges torn, as if it had been opened and refolded many times. Now that Blaine had time to concentrate on anything other than Kurt, he had realized something had been missing from the room surrounding him. With a jolt he realized that it was his own face – Kurt had had so many pictures of the two of them framed and stuck up everywhere, and they were all gone. But this note, written so many years ago and only recently changing hands, remained, and it was more of a sentiment than any picture of himself that Kurt had kept. This note was what brought them together, what kept them together even when they were so close to falling apart completely. And Blaine felt luckier than he ever had in his life to be holding this boy in his arms, to know he was his forever. And as he heard Kurt's breathing slow as he drifted off to sleep, Blaine couldn't have been happier.

Kurt was his forever, his eternity, his infinity. Up until the day he died this would be the only place he wanted to be – right here in his arms.