The Tippler was packed. The entirety of the Nashville music scene had shown up to see the guy who fired Beverly Sugar. And Kurt was pacing back and forth across the tiny dressing room behind the stage.

“Sit down, Kurt, you're making me nervous,” Blaine said.

Kurt flopped down on the small coffee table made of reclaimed wood just as Blaine stood up and started pacing. There wasn't enough room to pace. The room was more of a storage closet with a mirror than a dressing room.

“Are you ready for this? I'm afraid more of these people showed up hoping for some drama than to truly see your show,” Kurt said, crossing his arms only to uncross them.

“I don't give a shit what these people think about me, Kurt, you know that.”

“Okay.” Kurt stood up and put his hands on Blaine's neck, rubbing his thumbs along Blaine's jawline. “You are…” Kurt smiled and leaned in, their foreheads touching.

“What? What am I?”

“You are an amazing talent. And stronger than you know. And sexy as hell. And the single greatest thing.”

Blaine sighed and leaned in to kiss Kurt, smiling into it. “Maybe you should be my manager.”

Kurt laughed and pulled away. “That's insane.”

“Why? You know me, you believe in my music, you know everyone in the industry. Why not you?”

“Blaine, I have a job to do tonight, we need-”

“It should be you.”

Kurt opened his mouth to speak right as the club manager knocked on the door. “The natives are getting restless out here. You boys ready?”

Kurt leaned over and opened the door. “Yes, ready.” He turned back to Blaine, “Do you want me to introduce you?”

“No,” Blaine said, shaking his arms loose and rolling his head from side to side. “You go find a good spot, somewhere I can see you.”

“Okay,” He kissed Blaine and stepped out the door. “Break a leg.”

————————

Blaine hopped onto the stage amid catcalls and whistles.

“Hey, everybody, I'm Blaine,” he said, picking up his guitar and pulling the strap over his head. “Thanks for coming out tonight, even if it's only because you were strong-armed by Kurt Hummel. Or because of the free booze.”

“Fuck yeah,” a tall guy yelled from the middle of the crowd, holding a mostly empty glass in the air.

“Booze hounds aside, I know these showcases normally come with some kind of agenda, and this is Nashville so I'm going to assume you've heard the news that I've parted ways with Vine Records.”

The room reacted exactly how Kurt suspected it would, with lots of head shaking and whispering. No one could believe someone would willingly give up a new artist launch at Vine.

“So you're all here tonight for me to convince you that… you know what I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to convince you to do, so fuck that noise let's play some music.”

Applause filled the room as Blaine strummed his guitar. Kurt was standing back by the bar next to Libby. Blaine found him and smiled. 

“I'd like to play you a new song I wrote a couple of days ago…for someone very special to me. Someone who taught me the importance of being true to myself, true to who I am. And he,” a low murmur spread throughout the room. Libby gasped and poked Kurt in the ribs. Kurt raised his glass to his lips to hide the gigantic grin on his face. “I feel like…well, I did… I came alive when I met him. This song is called ‘Words' and,” Blaine looked directly at Kurt, “I hope you like it.”

http://youtu.be/NybhTS6jOZw (Press play)

“Is he professing love? To you?” Libby's eyes were wide and she was whisper shouting into Kurt's ear.

“Shhh,” Kurt said, putting his hand over her mouth.

The room went quiet as Blaine started singing. There was no whispering, no networking, no clinking of glasses. The room was transfixed by Blaine's earnest delivery.

Just wanna tell you I love you

But it's the hardest thing to say

I turned my head upside down

Trying to find some kinda way

Kurt needed to be working the room, shaking hands and talking up Blaine. But he couldn't move. Couldn't blink. Couldn't breathe as Blaine sang the words.

Just to tell you I need you

In a way that will be heard

I try to be a poet

But since I met you 

I've never been good with words

Blaine was on stage singing his heart out. 

To Kurt. 

Saying that he loved him.

He loved him.

The next few songs were a blur for Kurt. Libby was talking his ear off and Deborah Overland from Billboard Magazine was giving him her best side-eye. Kurt kept drinking his drink and leaning against the bar trying to wrap his mind around it all. Around Blaine. Who loved him.

“You must have a magic fucking penis.” It was Sugar, breathing her hot, bourbon-laced breath into Kurt's ear. Kurt didn't bother looking at her, keeping his focus on Blaine. “All this time, I didn't see it. Or maybe your gay powers are just that strong, huh Kurtsie? Or maybe you're the one taking it up the ass. Is that it?”

“Fuck off, Sugar,” Kurt hissed, “and my name is Kurt.”

“I hope his sweet little ass was worth it, because you've ruined his career. You know that.”

“I said fuck off, Sugar. Why are you even here?”

“Oh, I'm leaving. I think I got what I came for.”

Kurt turned towards her, setting his glass down on the bar. “And what exactly did you come for?”

“You really think you can get away with this? Fucking the new guy? Blaine was Vine's best chance at New Artist of the Year, which I know Trevor is gunning for this year. What do you think he's going to do when he finds out what you've done?”

“I haven't done anything. Besides, I seem to recall that none of this is any of your business anymore.”

“That was you first mistake. Everything in this town is my business, Kurtsie. You'll see.”

Kurt turned back around to watch Blaine, doing his best to block out Sugar and her hissing.

———————

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine said, his guitar case in one hand, the other hand running through his sweat-wet curls. Kurt was standing with Libby by the bar while Kurt waited to settle the bill.

“Blaine, hey, this is my very good friend, Libby.”

“Nice to meet you, Blaine,” Libby said, drawing out his name with a smirk on her face. “Look at you, you're just as gorgeous as Kurt gushed you were.”

“Thanks?” Blaine said, looking at Kurt and blushing.

“I'm gonna go,” Libby said, pulling them both in close to whisper, “I want to know every single thing that happens do not leave anything out.” Then, as she walked out the door to the valet stand, she shouted, “Happy boning you two!”

“I apologize. She does that.”

Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand. “It's actually not the strangest thing that was said to me tonight. I think I schmoozed and cheek-kissed everyone here including the waitstaff.”

“They all loved you, Blaine. Everyone loved you.”

“I saw Sugar.”

“I know. I talked to her, or rather, endured her.” Blaine's thumb was rubbing the inside of Kurt's palm. He loved that.

“I don't want to know. There was one guy…I think his name was Eddy or Eric…he asked me how long I've known I'm a homo.”

“Eric Kane, he's a writer for The Tennessean and a real asshole. Don't worry about him. And, Blaine, I can't…I can't believe you did that. I…”

“Let's talk about it at your place. Can I meet you there?” Blaine was crowding into him and put his hand on his waist.

Kurt blushed and looked around the room. “I just need to pay this obscene bar tab and I'll be on my way. If you beat me just have the doorman let you in.”

“Jerry. He loves me.”

“Yes, I'm aware.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt to him and kissing him full on the lips, “don't be long.”

————————

It took twenty minutes for the club manager to finally run Kurt's card and another ten for his Uber driver to find him which made him incredibly late to meet Blaine. It had also given him a lot of time to think. About Blaine and Blaine's song and Blaine's public declaration and his own rapidly beating heart. 

And he knew they would talk about it, that they had to talk about it, but the very idea made his knees buckle. 

Because Blaine. 

And love.

And then Kurt was at his door, keys in hand, waiting to go in. 

To Blaine. 

And love.

He turned the key.

He found Blaine in his bathroom, stepping out of the shower all wet and steamy, running a towel through his hair. 

“Hey.”

Blaine looked out from under the towel, eyes wide. “I showered.”

“I see that,” Kurt said, walking over and running both of his index fingers down Blaine's chest. “Blaine, that song…”

“Are you a top or a bottom?”

Kurt paused, his hands on Blaine's hips, his naked, naked hips. “Hmm?”

“I mean, do you prefer being…do you like…when you're…” Blaine wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom with Kurt following him. Blaine wrapped his arms around himself and sat down on the bed. “I'm messing this up.”

Kurt sat down on the bed and crossed his legs, looking at Blaine. “I loved my mom.”

Blaine's brow furrowed. “Okay?”

“She died when I was young and then it was just me and my dad. And we loved each other well. We do, we love each other well.”

Blaine's expression softened. He reached out and put his hand on Kurt's thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth. “That's not hard to believe.”

“And that's important to me, the love that we share.”

“It should be.”

“And it's not something I've ever shared with anyone else. Love.”

Blaine's hand stilled. “Oh.”

Kurt took a moment to breathe. To be present. To look Blaine in the eye and say it with his whole heart. “Until now.”

“Now?”

“Blaine, I am in love with you.”

“Kurt.”

“And I'm not saying it because you said it. And, wow, now that I'm saying it out loud I'm realizing that maybe you didn't mean to say it to me and maybe it was just a song and not a declaration and this might all blow up in my face but it's too late now so I'm saying it. I'm saying it because I'm wildly, insanely, irresponsibly in love with you. And I'm going to stop talking now so that you can say something or not say something or do whatever it is you need to-”

Blaine cut him off with a searing kiss, licking into Kurt's mouth and pushing him down onto the bed.

“Kurt,” he said, nuzzling his nose and running his fingers into Kurt's hair, “I wrote that song about you, for you. I wrote that song and sang it tonight because I wanted to tell you…that I love you. I'm in love with you.”

“You are?”

“So, so much.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, putting his hands on Blaine's face, “kiss me.”

Blaine paused, gazing at Kurt, his eyes wide and happy. “I want to be with you.”

“I think we've established that.”

“No, I mean…I want…” Blaine burrowed his face into Kurt's neck. “I don't know why this is hard for me to say.”

“You can have anything you want. You can have all of me.”

Blaine looked up and looked Kurt in the eye. “I want you to fuck me.”