“What ever happened with Hummel?”

Blaine glares at Santana briefly before turning back to his file.

She rolls her eyes and perches on the edge of his desk. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t spoken to each other since you got back.”

“It’s true,” he shrugs.

She frowns. “But - ”

“No, Santana,” Blaine snaps, shutting the folder. “I asked to be taken off the assignment, and Kurt was reassigned as well. I don’t know where he is, and he hasn’t contacted me. That’s it. It’s over.”

Santana looks like she wants to argue it more, but Blaine grabs the file and stalks off. She’s sure that there’s more going on than Blaine is admitting. He’s had flings and one-night stands and even boyfriends before, but nothing has ever left him this messed up for this long. She’s going to fix this, any way she can, because she can’t deal with Blaine moping around all the time. It’s definitely not because Blaine is her best friend and she actually likes him enough to want him to be happy. Or that’s what she tells herself, anyway.

-- 

Kurt’s had a really crappy two months since Saudi and Sam and Blaine. God, Blaine. It just figures that it would all go to hell as soon as he finds someone he actually genuinely likes. And the only person who he really wants to talk to about all of this is his dad, who he can’t tell because it’s all part of the case and therefore off-limits. Kurt wishes he hadn’t cut things off with Blaine so completely, he wishes he hadn’t kissed Blaine, he wishes he hadn’t lied.

It’s too late now, though. His boss had forced him to take off some time, which turned out to be nearly two months worth of personal days taken all at once. And while it had been great to catch up with his dad and Carole and Finn, being in Lima with nothing to do for two months has made him go a little stir crazy. So it’s really, really good to be back in DC. Even though he runs the risk of seeing Blaine. It’s a big building, though; the chances can’t be that high.

They are, in fact, much higher than he thought, because he sees Blaine everywhere. In the gym looking much too good in sweats and a tank top pounding at a punching bag, or sweeping down the hall in a suit with his curls gelled into submission, or coming out of the elevator at the end of the day, tired and worn-down and gorgeous. Kurt always manages to slip out of sight before Blaine can see him, but Kurt knows that at some point they’ll have to talk.

Santana gets to him before he can summon up the courage to find Blaine, though. She ambushes him, really, cornering him in the elevator and switching off the power.

“We need to have a chat, Hummel.”

         Kurt sighs and leans against the back wall of the elevator. “What, Santana?”

She scowls. “It’s about Blaine.”

Kurt swallows dryly and feels something like fear squeeze through his ribcage. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” she says dismissively. “Well, I mean, not fine, but you know, okay.”

Kurt nods slowly. He knows. It’s always a little weird using normal phrases in their line of work. Because “not fine” could mean upset over something personal, or it could mean injured or dead or missing. “So then what’s this about?”

“Look, Blaine told me about what went down in Saudi. Everything about the bomb and the kiss and Sam pulling a zombie.”

“He fidgets with the strap of his bag. “And?”

“And Blaine’s a mess. I don’t know what he means to you, or why you kissed him, or what the hell is going on up in that head of yours, but you need to suck it up and talk to him. He’s going crazy, pining over something that could have been but not knowing if he should just let it go. So get your head out of your ass and talk to him.”

Kurt lets his eyes close briefly, trying to ignore the turmoil in his stomach and the aching in his heart. “I will. I swear.”

She nods shortly. “I’ll hold you to that. Blaine is my best friend. One of my only friends and I’m not going to let this tear him up. So you’d best fix it.” She flips the power switch and the elevator shudders back to life.

Kurt watches her from the corner. “Is it true you keep razor blades in your hair.”

Santana smirks over her shoulder as the doors open. “Talk to Blaine and you’ll never have to find out.”

-- 

On second thought, finding Blaine in the gym is probably not the best idea. But Kurt’s already there and it’s too late to back out now. It’s nearly nine o’clock, well past the time most people stay in Langley, so Kurt’s not worried about anyone walking in on them, on the off chance Kurt gets to ravish Blaine. Because Blaine’s sweaty and disheveled and in a tank top that leaves very little to the imagination.

Kurt leans against the doorframe and just watches as Blaine swings and jabs through exercises that are obviously second nature to him, waits until Blaine slows and stops before stepping into the room.

“Hi.”

Blaine startles and spins to face him, eyes wide and shocked. “Kurt,” he breathes, fumbling a little with his gloves.

Kurt chews on his lip nervously. “I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “I should have picked a better time, but I really just need to talk to you...”

Blaine shakes his head, still looking a little surprised, and peels off his gloves. “It’s fine. I’m done anyway.” He gestures to the bench on the side of the room. “Do you want to sit?”

Kurt sits down next to Blaine tentatively, leaving plenty of room between them. Blaine angles himself to face Kurt, watching him as he drinks from a water bottle. Kurt finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the definition in Blaine’s neck, places he wants to kiss and bite and mark.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says suddenly. “For what I said to you back in Saudi. I - I’m still not sure what I was thinking, or how I feel, but I was a bitch, and you didn’t deserve it.”

Blaine plays with the tape on his hands and doesn’t look up. “What exactly are you sorry for, Kurt?”

“For lying to you,” Kurt blurts out before he can think twice. He claps his hand over his mouth, horrified, as Blaine looks up slowly.

“Lying?” he whispers, sounding heartbroken and hopeful in so many ways that it makes Kurt’s heart hurt.

Kurt takes a deep breath. “Yes. I mean, kissing you was a mistake, but not for the reasons you think.”

Blaine rests his elbows on his knees and scrubs his hands through his hair. “I think you’d better explain, then,” he says, voice muffled. “Because I’m really confused.”

“You - ” Kurt fumbles, “you are the most amazing man I’ve ever met. You’re sweet and compassionate and brave and smart and stunning.”

Blaine looks up at him slowly, eyes big and cautious.

“And I’ve wanted to get to know you since I saw you across the room at that gala two years ago. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that night at the beach in Saudi. But kissing you in the middle of an op., right before we might possibly have died, that was the mistake.”

Blaine shakes his head wordlessly and Kurt hurries to continue.

“I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to wait until we were back in the States and no longer working together so I could take you out to dinner. So we could talk about, I don’t know, fashion and music and politics and stretch out every minute we have together. I wanted to walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight and - ”

Kurt’s cut off by Blaine’s hands firm on his own. “Kurt,” he breathes and Kurt is taken aback by the warmth in his smile. “Kurt, I don’t care about any of that.”

Kurt presses his lips together and shakes his head stubbornly, willing the tears welling behind his eyes to disappear.

Blaine shifts closer until their legs are pressed together. “I don’t,” he insists. “It’s enough, God, more than enough, to know that you want all that with me.”

Kurt releases his breath in a stilted laugh and slumps back into the wall. “I’m terrible at relationships. I didn’t want to mess anything up with you. I guess it didn’t work.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m not so great with relationships either, Kurt.” He slides a rough hand along Kurt’s cheek and suddenly his mouth is much closer. “But maybe we can figure it out together?”

They kiss slowly, exploring and tasting and experiencing. Kurt brushes his fingers up Blaine’s arm to curl around Blaine’s wrist and tangles their other hands together. Kurt pulls back a little and grins when Blaine follows blindly, whining at the loss of contact.

“Come home with me?” Kurt asks quietly. “We - we don’t have to do anything. I just want to be close to you.”

Blaine touches a series of short kisses to Kurt’s lips, smiling. “Of course.”

-- 

Later Blaine will emerge from Kurt’s shower with damp curls, drowning adorably in Kurt’s sweatpants. They’ll curl up together under warm covers and whisper secrets into each other’s skin. Blaine will fall asleep first, head tucked under Kurt’s chin and thigh pressed against Kurt’s groin intimately. Kurt will drift off soon after, but first he’ll tug fingers through Blaine’s hair and whisper into his cheek, I’ve been looking for you forever.