Rachel grabs my arm lightly as I leave the kitchen, a small index card bearing a recipe in my hands, "Where are you going tonight?"

"Just... out," I stammer. It's been two months since I found Blaine again, and I still have told him anything. Haven't said anything to Rachel, either. I've tried, on multiple occasions, tripping over my words, but I can never get them out right. And the longer it goes on, the more I can't find a way to say anything. I can't just tell Rachel that I've been hiding Blaine from her all this time. She's matured as a person since high school, but I can't be sure she won't shriek and demand to see him that very instant or that she'll start throwing my collection items out the window. After all these years living together, I'm still not sure if she would or not, but I don't want to take the chances.

She rolls her eyes, "One day you'll tell me who you're dating." I whip around to deny it, but she stops me with her eye narrowed and brows lifted. Of course she knows, I guess I haven't been exactly subtle, taking off every weekend, every moment I'm not at work, and she has commented more than once that I look more alive recently. "You know I'm happy for you, right? No matter what. If he makes you happy, then I'm happy for you."

I have to stop and smile at her because she's so earnest and I know she means every word. She'd be happier if she knew it was Blaine, but I can't tell her that right now. For now she rubs her thumb over my elbow and lifts the corner of her lips in a smile at me. She knows that I'll love Blaine for the rest of my life, whisper his name in my sleep until the day I die, but she sits here calmly and gives me the best advice anyone ever could: do what makes you happy. I love her for that.

I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her forehead before hugging her. "You're my best friend," I express softly, and she is. She's been here for me every single day, through every break down, every time I screamed and cried over how unfair life was. She's been there every time after I call Blaine's parents and try to get information out of them. She's always there. I find it laughable, actually, how when I first got to know her, she was just that annoying girl, but now she's my best friend. "I love you."

Rachel wraps her hands around my arms and squeezes, "I love you, too, Kurt."

We break apart and I head towards the door. Rachel leans her hip against the wall just outside the kitchen and watches me go. I don't get very far, however, because when I open the door, there's a blonde woman standing there. I'm used to seeing her by now, however. "Hey, Quinn."

Rachel rushes forward behind me and pulls the door out of my grasp and open a little farther so that she can see the blonde standing in the doorway. Her eyes go a little soft, and I almost want to laugh, because she thinks I don't know what's going on here. "Quinn," she sighs fondly, "You're early."

Quinn smiles at Rachel and gently scoots around me into the apartment, "Hey Kurt," she says as she passes before addressing Rachel, "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't mind." She looks back at me then, "Are you going out?" She sounds like she's trying to push down the hopeful tone in her voice, but she's not fooling me.

"Yeah," I answer, not offering any details. Quinn wasn't as close with Blaine as Rachel was, but they were still friends, and even so, Quinn's kind of brilliant, so I don't want to give away anything that might lead her to figure out the truth. I fidget a little and decide that if what I have a feeling is going to happen tonight doesn't, then I can always crash at Mike and Tina's, "I might not actually be home tonight, so... feel free to get really into whatever it is you two do when you're left unattended."

Rachel's eyes almost bug out of her face, but Quinn reacts coolly, saying, "Well, have fun," before toeing off her shoes and walking into the living room, Rachel spinning and trailing after her with a little wave at me.

An hour and a half later, a lingering kiss in the doorway of his apartment, and a wonderfully already prepared meal later, Blaine and I are mulling around his kitchen as I try to teach him how to make a chocolate soufflé. I know he's not really taking it in, but he's pretending, and it's such a Blaine thing to do that I don't want to stop.

"What are we?" he says suddenly. It such a silly question, and I don't know what to make of it, so I repeat it back at him and just keep doing what I'm doing.

When I look up his face has gone serious, and all I want is just a smile from him, so I wipe off my hands on a dish towel and smirk at him, "Well, we're Kurt and Blaine, are we not?" It's what we always were before. Through everything, from friends to boyfriends to lovers, we never stopped being Kurt and Blaine. KurtandBlaine.

He slumps against the counter where he's standing, his hip digging into the top, as he gives me an exasperated look, "You know what I mean."

I want to giggle like a little kid or something, but I hold it back. Getting Blaine back has been one of the best things in my life, and while being happy is one thing, I don't want to show him how much it affects me. I'm constantly trying to not scare him in any way. There's also a small part of me that hopes something's going to happen and he's going to remember me, even though the chances of that seem to lessen with each day. I lean forward and peck him on the lips. "I kind of assumed you were my boyfriend," I whisper before pulling back, my face dropping when I realize that maybe we're moving too fast. I thought I was reading him well, but what if I've only been operating on my need to have him back. "That's okay, right?"

He doesn't say anything and everything inside me starts to jitter because, oh god, I've made it all up in my head and this isn't what he wants and I can't lose him now, I can't. "I mean, we've been seeing each other for almost two months, I just thought... oh god, I've gone and over thought things and now I'm telling you and ruining everything and oh–"

My words, and effectively my thoughts, are cut off suddenly when he pulls me sharply into his body and nuzzles into my neck, "You are so adorable." And I swear I could just kill him in that moment, but he doesn't know how terrified I am that I could lose him so easily, and he's just being Blaine. The same carefree one from before the attack, and so I melt into him, because he's here now and sometimes I just want to smack him upside the head, but for now he's here and that's enough. That's all I've wished for in the past five years.

"You'll be the death of me one day, Blaine Anderson," I sigh, pulling him up for a kiss. I was aiming for something short and sweet but he's pulling me back in, flushing my body with his and my head starts to get dizzy. His kisses start to seem desperate, and I'm not sure why, but I take and take before pulling back, a little breathless, but trying to keep my cool. For some reason I know, I just know where tonight is going to take us, so I try to keep us cool for now. There's still dessert.

Blaine jumps up to sit on the counter, officially giving up on learning how to make a soufflé. "Do you have work tomorrow?"

I try to scold him for sitting on the counter, but it's his house, so I can't really dictate what he does right now. I'm still getting used to the new dynamic between us, and where I'd have been able to chastise him before for something like this, I'm not sure if I can now. "Nope. Day off. Why?"

The toes of one of his feet trail down the side of my leg and while I suppress it outwardly, a shiver runs through my blood. Not yet, not yet. Keep things cool for now. "We should do something," he says and it comes out a bit suggestive, but could also be interpreted as something nonchalant.

I stand and look him in the eye, I know if I play his game I'll be a goner in a few seconds, kissing and touching and I know we can't yet. Not yet. There's still dessert. "You should get a job, that's what you should do," I say instead, "I know your parents are happily paying for most of this, but really, Blaine?"

He laughs and I note one of his hands twitching, like it wants to reach out for me. "I have a job at the school during the year, I can make do without one in the summer."

I step in closer, between his legs, "You're impossible."

"But you like it," he teases, his nose scrunching up with his smile.

"Yeah, kind of," I shrug.

He grips my shoulder and pulls me closer, murmuring, "Come here," and then he's tipping my chin up and pressing his lips to mine, and I can't stop smiling.

It's only a moment before I can feel my head swimming again, and I'm getting lost in him, my plans are running away from me. But I'm saved by the oven dinging and Blaine positively jumps and I can't stop my laughter. "Just the oven, sweetheart," I comment, patting his leg and going back to put the soufflés in the oven.

"Do you have to leave early again tonight? I know you don't really like walking around these streets when it's dark." I don't, call it an engraved fear from walking into a still, dark parking lot with my boyfriend and watching him slip away, covered in blood saying my name like a prayer. But tonight, tonight I don't have to walk the dark streets, I know what's going to happen.

"I'll do anything to stay out later tonight," I answer, returning to the spot between his legs, my hands resting on his thighs, "Rachel's having Quinn over again, and I know they'd prefer I don't come home early. For reasons they refuse to explain but I obviously already know." I don't say that I told them I wouldn't be home at all anyways, giving them permission.

We tease each other for a bit until the truth finally comes out, that I'm not going home tonight, I'm staying here. I wish I could forever, call it my home. Even more I wish I could curl up in his bones, where it feels safe. Where his arms are my shelter and I feel like nothing bad can happen again.

I can't help it when he quirks his eyebrow at me and I need his mouth on mine, so I press forward, reach my hands around to drag him off the counter and fuck dessert, I don't even care anymore. It's him, I need him. I need my limbs wrapping with his and I need him, I need him.

I pull him with me into the living room, still kissing him, my hand scratching at the base of the back of his neck and then pushing his shirt away a little so I can slide my hand down to feel his back. We've made out before, but this feels so different, feels so urgent and now we can go further and I've waited so long, I need this.

I run my other hand to his stomach to just feel him, to reassure myself that I'm here and this is happening and this isn't some amazing dream. Blaine's whimpering with every slide of my tongue and I can almost forget about what's happened and the past five years. I can forget the small scars around his hairline and the fact that he doesn't remember me from before. Right now it's just him and me and nothing bad.

Blaine runs his hand through my hair and a small hum rumbles out of my throat. I push him back a little and his legs hit the couch. I slide my hand around to his back and keep him steady as I lower him into the cushions. It's a practiced move from before so I know just how to not lose his lips in the action.

After a moment, our lips part for a split second because I can't even breathe right now I'm so lost in him, but it can't last for long because I need him and I'm pressing into him, but he's mumbling between our lips, "Oven?" and my head's swimming so much I almost can't understand what he means before I realize and part from him, sitting up to look over the back of the couch.

"We've got ten minutes," I answer, and I dive back down. The oxygen to my lungs has made my head refocus though, and this time it's a bit gentler, a bit more savoured. We can't rush into this right now, I just got carried away. He asks if we're just making out now or if it's more, and he sounds slightly nervous, and I realize that I have been rushing this, so I clarify that, yes, we're just making out right now, and I calm our kisses.

I slip my hand under his shirt and stroke over his stomach, his chest, his stomach again, feeling the muscles twitch and jump. In return, he tucks his fingers under the edge of my shirt and I can't stop the shaky breath that leaves me as my nails digs at his skin for a moment. I don't know if I can ever get used to the feeling of him touching me again after so many years of thinking I'd never feel that familiar fire as it races over my skin.

Blaine breaks away and ducks to kiss my jaw, which threatens to tear me apart inside as I shift to accommodate him and let out some kind of noise that even I don't understand. He trails kisses down my neck and then drags his tongue firmly across the skin of my collar bone and I'm no longer responsible for whatever sounds I make because it feels so good, and it was always the weakness that Blaine used to his advantage before. I feel like even though his brain doesn't remember him, his body must, because he's so easily finding all the things that make me writhe in response.

He presses his lips against me and starts to suck a kiss at the skin and it just feels so good I could almost start crying. I have to pull away before I do, and I force my face closer to his, kissing and kissing and kissing.

The oven dings back in the kitchen and its sharp ring brings enough clarity that I know I have to stop. Can't keep getting so lost right now, and I know I growl, but I pull back. When Blaine grumbles, I'm thankful that I'm not the only one who didn't want to stop. "That wasn't ten minutes," his voice rumbles and I can help but laugh for some reason because it's light in the wake of how desperately I want to get lost in him, and it's just enough to clear my head from the nice cloud that fills my brain around him and I climb off him to go back to the kitchen while Blaine fixes his shirt and joins me.

We eat the dessert while it's fresh and Blaine is his usual adorable self, leaning forward to kiss off some food when it gets stuck to my lip. I don't know if he can tell, but I feel like I'm shaking by the time we've finished and Blaine's rinsing dishes in the sink. I hug him from behind and kiss his jaw and I close my eyes for a moment, playing pretend again, wondering what it would be like if we hadn't gone to prom that night and if we'd be in a different apartment in New York right now, with Blaine washing our dishes as I wrap myself around him, waiting to go back to our bed instead of just his.

He turns around and strokes over my face as I come back to this moment, this life, and he starts to speak, "I don't mean to be forward but..." and I don't let him finish, nodding and kissing him.

Blaine starts to shuffle us to his room and I can already feel the dizziness settling in. It's a good dizziness, a kind of lost where I'm only lost in him, but I find everything I need there as well. The kind of dizziness you get when you just love someone so much your head spins.

We end up on his bed, tangled and our hands are everywhere and I just want to touch him forever. He pushes me onto my back so that he's leaning over me and I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I've gotten all this back. The love of my life is here and staring at me like I'm the single most beautiful person on the planet. "I'm so happy I'm here with you," I let out softly, referencing the past, but the present as well. I'm so glad he's back, I'm so glad he's here in general.

He kisses me again as he straddles my hips, exploring my mouth with his tongue. I press back to taste him, still a hint of chocolate and so much of him. I don't know if I've been savouring the taste of him since he got back, so I do so now.

I pull up on his shirt and he moves away so that I can tug it off and I feel like my mouth goes dry before he reattaches his lips to mine and then moves to my neck shortly after. There's so much skin and I need to know if it feels like it did when were seventeen. As soon as my hands are on him, I can't stop, smoothing them everywhere, feeling and memorizing every little change as Blaine starts to kiss down my neck. He's a little broader than before, more muscular. My hands burn as they move across him and I've missed this so much, missed him so much.

My breath hitches and stutters when I feel his lips brush against my stomach and I hadn't even realized he was unbuttoning my shirt, I was so caught up in all his skin. He dips his tongue into my belly button and my insides jolt before he's moving me, helping me get my shirt completely off.

He stares at me for a moment, reaching out and trailing his fingers across my stomach, and I don't know why it didn't occur to me until now that this is Blaine's first time. This Blaine at least. He'd stumbled over his words about a month ago when we'd been kissing, telling me he wasn't ready for anything yet, that he'd never been with anyone before and wanted it to be right. And while I'd known then, I guess I'd forgotten because all my head swims with are the times when we shared a bed for the night, sweaty and tired and worn out.

Blaine kisses me again and I reach up to hold him there, hoping to calm any nerves he may have that he's not expressing. It's in that action that I missed his hand travelling down my body and I catch it as it flicks open the button on my jeans, causing my fingers to spasm lightly in his hair. He runs his hand over the front of my pants, and my mouth goes a little slack as he kisses me harder. Then he drags his palm firmly back up to the zipper and my body practically convulses under him, pulling at his hair, and I'm not thinking when my hand goes down to tug at his pants, but he knocks it away.

When he's got my zipper undone, he tries to start tugging off my jeans, and I know I whine when he breaks his lips away, but I let him go as I shift my hips up and he crawls backwards, an extremely sexy move for some reason, but I think it's just because it's Blaine, and pulls them off as he goes.

I pull myself up and shuffle to the end of the bed, reaching up and undoing his jeans, sliding them off and letting him step out of them. He's there then, in front of me, and I just want everything we ever had before. I don't even realize what I'm doing until I'm up close and my lips are tracing over him through his briefs. The gasp he lets out travels all the way down my spine and his fingers thread through my hair, which causes me to smile and pull back, looking up to him as my fingers hook around his underwear. At his nod, I pull them down, my eyes following instinctively and for some reason without clothes, it's just us, and I feel calm. My head's spinning back and forth between the present and the past, it's old Blaine, then new Blaine and I decide to settle somewhere in the middle. Just Blaine.

I reach up, my fingers slotting around his ribs as I shift back up the bed, pulling him with me and then down on top before I roll us over, kissing at his neck, hoping that he'll let me take charge because I know everything that can make him feel good. He doesn't protest, only slips his hands under my briefs and eases them off as I awkwardly clamber out of them.

He runs his hands up the back of my legs and I press forward, lowering my body over his and I feel home with the way my lines and angles fit perfectly with his, like they were made to interlock. I roll my hips down and this is right, everything feels so right and good and a groan rips out of Blaine's lips as he tosses his head back, exposing himself more to me. He bucks up after a particularly hard suck at his skin, and my lips fly off him as I gasp in surprise, not having anticipated the move.

My lips move back to his of their own accord and our tongues start up a dance that's familiar but so new as I shift my hips, the heat of both of us lining up and Blaine cries out softly against my lips. I pull back, giving us space to breathe, and we let things cool as I get up, collecting the things we'll need. When I turn back to him, he's staring, and I'm reminded of so many times before when he'd smile and offer his hand, pull me back to bed and kiss me senseless.

I get a little lost in memories as I climb back up on the bed, nudge his knees apart, and then take a moment to silently ask him if this way is okay. He agrees and I settle between his legs, kissing him while my fingers, cool and wet now, slink down low, into him. He tenses, but lets me in, and I love him for how much he trusts me. How much he did when we were younger, and how much he does now.

He kisses me, but my attention isn't in it, focused elsewhere, searching and stretching, and his whole body rocks into it when I've found what I was looking for. When I can feel that Blaine's ready, I pull my fingers back and out of him, and he lets go of the claim he has on my lips before I look around the bed for the condom I dropped earlier.

I feel his eyes on me as I ready myself, and then I'm shifting down over him, smiling lightly as he stares at me with wonder filling his eyes. He's so beautiful like this. Blaine pulls my face down for a kiss as I run my hand over his leg, pushing it up for a better angle before pushing in with an ease left over from before, knowing how to position our bodies, knowing what works and what doesn't. Knowing what's right.

Blaine pulls back from the kiss, his eyes landing on mine, and he looks conflicted, a million and one things flashing through the slim rim of honey-hazel that's left. I'm about to ask if something's wrong, if I should stop, but he seeks out my lips again and kisses me almost desperately, his tongue pushing into my mouth as if he's trying to tell me something without words.

I move, my hips, my legs, my body, aiming for the angle I know works for him, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut because it's been so long and this is everything to me. There's a wildfire coursing through my veins, my blood, my skin, everywhere. Blaine gasps and I know I've succeeded, so I pull out, thrust back in, and his whole body tries to pull me in.

My head drops to his shoulder, it's almost too much, there are sparks shooting off everywhere inside of me, so good, so good, my Blaine. He runs his hands up my back and I know I'm covered in sweat, can taste it on him as my lips brush his sternum where they rest. "Please," he begs, and who am I to deny him?

I shift my weight to one arm and brush my hand across his stomach and down to where everything's so warm, touching in the way I know will short circuit his brain. He gasping and the noises that are tumbling out of his mouth are going to be my downfall. My body is less in my control now and more its own as it focuses on pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. I could cry for how good it feels. How perfect.

"Kurt," Blaine's voice breaks me out of my fog momentarily, it's weak and I know he's close. "Kiss me."

I move my head immediately, search out his lips, kiss him desperately and I can feel the muscles of his stomach against my fingers when they clench and it feels like the beat to some beautiful song. There's a small noise between our lips as he falls over the edge, and it's that sound that undoes me, pulls me from my body as it shakes, seizes and crashes against him, throws me into pure bliss. I'm sure there are fireworks setting off on every inch of my skin. My lips rip from his to let out a gasp at the explosion, and my body drops over his as I try to remember how to work my lungs.

When the uncomfortable burn of my lungs lessens, I silently capture his lips. The calm after the storm. There's a giddiness settling in my soul and it rolls out of me in a puff of breathless laughter, because here he is, here I am, here we are. I spent five years thinking I'd never get this back, and here we are. I can't remember a time I was this happy. Probably that moment before we stepped out of the high school after prom, Blaine laughing as he pulled me off into a corner and kissed me, and I felt light and perfect. That happiness, that's what this feels like.

We clean up, everything feeling so light and good, and I'm suddenly so sleepy, and if I recall correctly, I was always the one to fall asleep first after sex before. "Let's get some sleep now," I suggest, and briefly I imagine him laughing lightly, just like he used to, but he only kisses me as I snuggle down into him, using his arm as a pillow and he swallows me up with his arms as I drift off into sleep.

I'm dreaming, and I know that I am, because it all feels like it used to. His arm draped over my waist, my head resting on his other arm. I feel safe and I feel like nothing bad could ever hurt us, just like before. The world feels right again. And that's how I know it's a dream.

"Kurt?" he whispers against my forehead. It's soft, like a caress, and I never want the dream to end. I hum lightly in response, trying not to break the spell of this dreamland, and cling tighter to him. "Kurt," he prompts softly again, "I am so in love with you."

I feel the smile play across my lips as I burrow farther into him in the dream. It's like before, and he loves me, and I know. I can feel it in every movement and word. He loves me just like he always did, and while I have Blaine again in reality, this dream is so bittersweet, giving me the allusion that none of the past five years happened. That we're here again with love and nothing can harm us. I feel safe and in love, and for once I'm not scared of the future or the ball dropping and ruining this new life we've been building. For now, for a dream, I can pretend.

I feel his arms wrap more firmly around me and then there are words on my tongue. They are gentle and happy and I know I shouldn't ruin this tender moment of the past with a reminder of the present, but my voice puffs out of me before I have the chance to pull it back in. But the dream doesn't change when I say the words, instead fading lightly away in a haze of content to my words echoing in my brain.

"I'm so glad I found you again."