Waking up in Kurt’s arms was still one of Blaine’s favorite things in the world. Even when he was asleep, Kurt still held him like he was afraid of letting go. Slowly waking up, realizing all over again that they were both barely one step away from being naked, made Blaine flush all over again and bury his face against Kurt’s chest. Which was bare. That certainly didn’t help matters at all.

Blaine took in a deep breath, still getting hints of Kurt’s cologne through everything else. His hand drifted along his side, not wanting to wake him up but still wanting to explore. Thankfully, Kurt seemed like he wasn’t going to wake up that easily. Blaine’s fingertips played along his ribcage, trying not to tickle, and down to his hip where they dipped into the groove and lingered before brushing down to the top of his boxers. Blaine’s boxers. On Kurt.

Part of him still couldn’t believe that it had happened, because there was Kurt – amazing, gorgeous (as far as Blaine could tell and he was pretty damn sure), practically perfect Kurt. And he was Blaine. Just Blaine. He tried not to let himself get into his head too much, because he really didn’t need to ruin what had easily been the best night of his life just because he couldn’t stop himself from overthinking everything all over again. Kurt was there, that was all that mattered.

He carefully untangled himself from his boyfriend’s arms, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder before slipping out from under the covers and headed for the door. His mouth and throat were dry, as they so often were when he woke up, and he really needed something to drink. He had full plans of crawling right back into bed and staying there as long as he could, once he’d gotten some water. As soon as he got to the kitchen, it struck him that he had no idea how late it was – mostly because he could smell coffee and that meant Santana was awake, and she never got up before him on the weekends.

“Morning, hobbit,” she greeted sleepily as he shuffled his way across the threshold. “How’d your date go?”

“Good,” he mumbled, grabbing down a glass and getting a drink before trying to elaborate, considering how scratchy his voice sounded. “It was perfect. We went to the symphony.”

“Hence the suit.”

“Hence the suit,” he repeated with a nod, gulping down the rest of his water. “It was amazing, Santana.” He paused when he heard a door open, and footsteps – Kurt’s footsteps – going down the hall.

“Blaine.”

“Hm?”

“You have boxers with little polar bears on them.”

“Yes?” He reached down self-consciously to make sure that there wasn’t some sort of problem going on with his boxers, but they seemed fine.

“No, yours have candy canes on them. Not very appropriate for the season, but I’m not that surprised.” He swallowed as the realization swept over him. “Back to the polar bears. Either Kurt has those same boxers—”

“Shut up.”

“—or he is wearing your boxers.” He didn’t say anything, just clutched the glass in his hands as he felt the warmth spread steadily up his chest and neck as he blushed. It certainly didn’t help when Santana full out hit him on the chest, either, the loud smack of skin on skin contact echoing through the kitchen. “You had sex with him!”

“I’m kind of concerned about the fact that you’re so familiar with my underwear,” Blaine said, trying desperately to change the subject. “Why do you know about my boxers? Maybe… maybe they were a popular design, everyone probably has them. Polar bears are pretty cool, after all. They’re the largest bear and–”

“You are standing in the kitchen in your underwear right now. Do we really need to ponder how I could possibly know about them?” Santana interrupted dryly. “Jesus, I see you in your boxers all the damn time. It’s a good thing you’re cute or it’d be annoying. Back to the topic at hand… last night’s sausage-fest—”

“Can we talk about this later?” Blaine pleaded, setting the glass back down on the counter. Or never, he added in his head, but he knew he’d never be that lucky. He decided not to wait for her response and started out of the kitchen again. “I have some questions for you, too, so we’ll have to sit down later… and discuss… things.”

“Mhmm.” Santana slurped at her coffee and he could practically feel her watching him as he went back to his room. He climbed back into bed and under the covers, and less than a minute later he heard the door latch shut when Kurt came back.

“You’re all pink,” Kurt observed as he crawled up next to him on the bed, his hand drifting up Blaine’s chest to his shoulder. That definitely didn’t help matters.

“I’m going to have to kill Santana,” Blaine mumbled, tilting his head into Kurt’s touch as his fingers moved up to his jaw.

“I’ll help.”

“I figured I could count on you.” Kurt laughed lightly as he leaned down, pressing a kiss against his lips.

“Always.” It was a murmur, a whisper, a word that had barely been spoken, but it was still there and enough to make Blaine tingle all the way down to his toes. Kurt settled in beside him, tucked in against his side but still propped up on his elbow to look down at him. “So, about last night…”

Just like that, the tingle was gone and replaced with panic. Blaine swallowed quickly, hand moving to tug the blanket up closer to his waist. What if it hadn’t been good enough, he hadn’t been good enough? What if Kurt was regretting it? What if Kurt thought polar bear boxers were ridiculous? There were so many possible things that could be coming after ‘about last night…’ that he didn’t even know where to start. Though he knew just how stupid he was to be going to those places, those thoughts, with Kurt pressed up against him and distinctly nestling there. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said,” Kurt started, fingers carding through Blaine’s hair soothingly. “You should go for it. If you want to go into music, study it, you should do it.”

Oh, that.

“I want to,” Blaine murmured, biting his lip. “I really do. I don’t know… how I would, but I do.”

“Okay, well don’t get upset or anything, but I think it might not as out there as you think,” Kurt said, and Blaine’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head toward hm.

“What do you mean? Why would I get… upset?”

“Dr. Salido asked me about you weeks ago, you know, after she heard you playing,” Kurt said, speaking quickly. “Like I said before, she felt really bad about scaring you off and she’d seen us talking so she was trying to find out more about you, because obviously you’re amazing. I mentioned, um, how you’d said that it was hard to study music when you can’t see it, and she said there were ways around that, especially since you read Braille. It’s different with music, but it’s still basically the same, and she started looking into it just in case you showed interest in wanting to change over to music or even if you just wanted to learn something new sometime, even though God knows how many pieces you have up there in your head—”

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered, but then he stopped. He couldn’t wrap his head around everything he was saying. The fact that without any real cause, someone had gone to lengths to figure out how he could study what he wanted. Someone he didn’t even know, save for running away from them once. The thought that he might actually be able to go after what he wanted, after convincing himself there was absolutely no way that would ever be possible.

“Come with me tomorrow,” Kurt breathed out, as if he’d been building up to it but wasted all his energy on getting out all the words before. “After your classes, come to the music building, talk to her. She’s nice, she’s been working on the whole Braille thing, she wants to work with you if you want to try. You don’t have to if you don’t want, but if you do… there’s a way, Blaine. At least to try. It’s not impossible.”

“I’ll… o-okay,” Blaine stammered out, jerking his head in a slight nod. The whole concept was so foreign, still impossible in his mind. It was the least he could do considering that someone had gone out of their way to try and make it possible for him. It would have been awfully hard for him to say no with how Kurt’s fingers kept stroking through his hair, scritching against his scalp, and they were still pressed skin to skin almost all the way from shoulder to toes. “If she’s… not busy, I mean, I can go and see what it’s like.”

And after spending almost an entire Sunday in bed with Kurt, curled up together and talking and cuddling and only getting up for food, and getting through his classes on Monday, Blaine found himself sitting in a practice room in the fine arts building. There hadn’t been a time decided, not with Kurt just saying to go there after classes, and he’d never actually spoken to Dr. Salido other than whatever he’d said in that rush of panic that made him flee. So he just sat and played, not noticing the time pass by and not trying to think about how he was waiting for something that might not actually come.

There was a light knock on the door, breaking him out of his reverie. Whether it was Kurt, Dr. Salido, some random stranger, he had no idea, but he lifted his fingers off the keys and dropped his hands into his lap. “Um, yes?”

The door creaked as it opened. “Blaine? Hi, I’m Dr. Salido. We met previously…”

“I’m so, so sorry,” he started, hands smoothing over the tops of his legs. “I was having a really bad day, I swear I’m not normally… so rude like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re back. Kurt said… he spoke with you?”

“Yeah he did,” Blaine said, chewing on the inside of his lip. “He said you could teach me, maybe. Not that, uh, I expect you to, just that—”

“Blaine,” Dr. Salido said, in that exact same way that his entire family did. Patient, yet tried, and he was half-certain that he’d annoyed her already. “How about you and I go back to my office? It’s quieter there than it is here in this hallway, and I have some things to show you.”

They made their way there, down a hallway of the building Blaine had never had reason to visit before. Her office was quiet, a welcome change from the practice room. He was trying his best not to be nervous, but it wasn’t that easy. He settled in on the piano bench and kept his hands in his lap, waiting for instruction. It had been such a long time since he’d had any lessons or any interaction with a private teacher.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” she said gently, pulling her chair up beside him. “I swear I’m not a scary person, no matter what you may have heard.”

“No, that’s not – I don’t think that,” he said, shaking his head. She laughed, touching his shoulder lightly.

“How about you play through some scales for me? Just start with C major, two octaves, and work your way up chromatically. I’ll stop you when I’ve heard enough.” That was easy enough, and Blaine did as she asked, making his way up through the scales and getting halfway through all of them before she told him he could stop.

He’d never tried to read Braille music before. It seemed like a hassle, almost impossible, because how was he supposed to read it and play it at the same time? Unless he had more than two hands, it wasn’t plausible. Dr. Salido described it as like taking small bites of a big meal, having to read one measure at a time and learn it, and then eventually, bite by bite, the whole meal would be eaten – the whole piece would be learned.

“Now, I’m not proficient in reading Braille,” Dr. Salido said, shuffling some papers around. “Not at all, really, but the Braille used for music is slightly different than the normal alphabet. It’s the same basic format, of course. All the different symbols you would usually see on music, they have different notations, so you can still read them. It… sound like a lot to take in, I know, but I think once you learn the language of it, it won’t seem nearly as intimidating.”

Blaine took the small book she offered, smoothing his fingers over the cover. Learning a new system of reading shouldn’t be that difficult – not after learning Braille at first had been. That had been a trip in itself, but he was used to it by then. He just felt bad about the fact that someone who wasn’t even his teacher had spent so much time thinking about it for him. “This is, um, great. I mean, I don’t know how good I’d be at it, and I’d hate for you to think that you have to work with me—”

“Blaine, I would love to be able to try and teach you about this,” she said, her hand resting on his shoulder again. He really wondered exactly what Kurt had told her about him. “This isn’t something that is taking time away from other things in my life, I’m honestly interested in how this system works and also in you because clearly you’re talented. I know I barely heard you play before, but it sounded amazing. Technique, talent, you have that in spades. It’s just the language that you need to learn now.”

There was that guilt again, the fact that someone was going out of their way to help him completely unsolicited. He was going to try, though. He desperately wanted to be able to study music, despite what he’d told his dad months before, and if that was the way to it – he was going to do it. By the time he left Dr. Salido’s office, he’d promised to try to learn the notation method and to go back the next week, hopefully to show what he’d learned and start learning how to read music in earnest.

Santana was home when he got there, which was good because he’d spent the entire day prior focused on Kurt Kurt Kurt and avoiding a conversation with her about his (not entirely lacking anymore) sex life. Did he want to talk to her about that? Not at all. But he did have questions, and he thought maybe the enticement of it would give him enough leeway to ask them. That was why he tried to beat her to the punch after they settled down together on the couch.

“So what was Brittany doing here?” he asked, trying to sound casual but knowing the question was anything but. It was all in how she tensed up beside him as soon as he said the other girl’s name.

“Just hanging out.”

“No, that doesn’t work,” he said, shaking his head. “She wasn’t around, wasn’t even mentioned, for… like, a month, and then she was here like nothing had ever happened? I don’t buy it.”

“Not everything is as simple as you want to think,” Santana muttered, and Blaine reached over to take her hand.

“Okay, well, tell me about it then.”

“I don’t want to,” she snapped, but he kept his grip on her hand and very slowly could feel her melting away beneath his grasp. “It’s complicated.”

“Well I’d kind of figured—”

“It’s complicated,” she repeated, fingers tightening in his. “It’s hard.”

“Most things are.”

“We met at the beginning of last year,” Santana started, completely unprompted. Blaine wasn’t about to stop her, not when she was actually starting to talk. He didn’t care where the story began, honestly. “We became friends so fast, I didn’t… know she might be interested. And then once I did, she started acting like this – all interested one minute and running off with someone else the next. I can’t just spend my time chasing her around. And then she was here and acting like it was something I did.”

“What did she say you did?”

“Not give enough of a shit,” she mumbled, pulling her hand free of his.

“Maybe you should have called her or something, after the party,” Blaine said, trying not to sound like he was telling her that he’d told her so – even though he kind of had. “You could have tried to figure all this out then–”

“No kidding, Blaine. Thanks. You’re being super helpful.”

“Are you guys… okay? I mean, she was here, you talked, so now…”

“Now I know that I fucked up.” Santana shifted further away from him on the couch. “I don’t chase people, I just don’t.”

“Santana.”

“What?”

“You’re an idiot.” He hurried on as she sucked in a sharp breath next to him, knowing that if he didn’t talk fast that she would lay into him and he wouldn’t get the chance. “You say you don’t chase people but you’ve spent how long sitting here wanting to chase her? Just… go for it. You want her, want to be with her. You should start acting like it, instead of just sitting around and waiting. Do something so there’s no question about it.”

“Blaine, I hardly think that you’re some sort of expert on this kind of thing.”

“No, I’d never say that,” he said, flushing slightly. “I’m just saying that it couldn’t hurt. She said you weren’t… giving enough of a shit, so prove her wrong. Just go for it. Do something that doesn’t leave any doubt about how you feel.”

“Any bright ideas about how?” she asked, a slight dryness to her tone that made him think that maybe she wasn’t buying into his suggestion, but it wasn’t like she’d shot it down completely.

“You suck at talking about how you feel,” he said, and she snorted lightly. “No, I didn’t mean like that, just… find a different way. Maybe you should sing her something.” He paused, folding his arms across his stomach. “Kurt sang for me, and it made me feel like the most special person in the world. You’re always singing stuff around here, you’re really good, you should do something like that. Some big gesture that can’t possibly be taken any other way except that you want to be with her.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Maybe.” Blaine shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he could feel the heat of blush creeping into his cheeks as he went on. “But considering that I’ve got an incredibly hot and amazing boyfriend, I think I’m allowed to be.”

“Like you’d know if he’s hot or not,” Santana shot back, but then she stopped. “Wait. You need to tell me what happened. Because all you said was that you’d gone to the symphony but you were totally post-fuck.”

“Santana.”

“Polar bear boxers!” She sounded practically cheerful, which was at least better than the slightly defeated tone she’d been stuck in previously.

“I am not discussing my sex life with you.”

“But the point is that you have one!”

“Why are you even trying to bring it up?” he asked, his voice practically pleading her to stop. “It’s not like you’d want to hear about it. We have the wrong parts.”

“True. I don’t want details of any sort about your junk.”

“Good. So let’s talk about something else. Anything else, really.”

“How would you feel about throwing a Halloween party?” Santana asked, and just like that they were off in a different direction. Blaine was grateful.

“A Halloween party? Um, that’d be okay. I mean, the house is still standing after the first party you had, so I doubt it’ll get burned down or anything.” He tilted his head, considering for a moment. “What are you dressing up as?”

“I’m kind of torn,” she mused, turning and stretching her legs out across the couch, over his lap. “There are so many amazing possibilities. I have this killer belly dancer outfit costume, but who knows. I might see something I want to do more before then.”

“I hadn’t even thought about it,” Blaine admitted, shrugging a little. “So you might have to help me out.” He stopped, thinking, and then he shook his head with a slow smile. “Nevermind, I know what I want. I’ll just need your help actually getting it.”

“What is it?”

“Nope, I’m not telling you until we’re there.” He grinned, cowered away when she smacked his arm lightly. “Now, back to before – Brittany. I’m not kidding, I think you should sing for her or something, in some public setting so no one could question it.”

“I don’t know, Blaine.”

“Santana. Do you want to be with her?”

“More than anything,” she said, and it almost took him aback just how sincere she sounded. There was no pretense, no underlying tone, just pure honesty.

“Then do something to show her and everyone exactly how you feel.”

“Like I said, you’re a sap.”

“But I’m a smart sap. I’ll help! We’ll make sure it’s perfect.”

“Fine, we can work on something, but no promises.” He knew that was the best commitment he was going to get out of her, but he could work with it.

Kurt came over that night, after dinner had been eaten and Blaine had spent most of the night trying to familiarize himself with the book of Braille music notations that Dr. Salido had given him. He’d gotten his keyboard out from under his bed, just so he could make sure he was reading things correctly. There were just so many additional things to pay attention to, and he really just wanted to be able to see.

Reading tempo markings and expressions was easy when all he had to do was glance at the page once and take in the black notations scattered above and across the staves. Reading music was easy when it was something he’d been doing for most of his life. When it came to the Braille though, it wasn’t quite like that. It was new, a completely different way of trying to figure it out, and he was doing his best not to get discouraged.

Learn the language. That’s what Dr. Salido had said he needed to do, and that was what he focused on when Kurt got there. He was doing his best to memorize everything from that book so he didn’t have to keep going back every time he tried to go through one of the music examples. The door to his room clicked shut, but he didn’t stop in his efforts until Kurt’s arms slipped around his shoulders from behind.

“Having fun?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss just below Blaine’s ear.

“No,” Blaine answered honestly, leaning back against him. “This is hard.”

“You just started with it,” Kurt said, slipping around and sitting on the bed beside where the keyboard was perched. “It’s not going to come easy right away, but once you’ve had more time with it, I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“I know, I just think… I’m done for tonight,” Blaine said, shutting the book and slipping it onto his desk. His head felt full and tired, and Kurt was there which meant the last thing he wanted to be doing was focusing on trying to get his fingers to take in so much information. He grabbed the keyboard and slid it back underneath the bed before crawling up next to Kurt and laying down with his head resting against his shoulder.

They spent the rest of the night just lying there talking, curled up in close. Blaine discovered that Kurt actually knew Brittany, or had gotten to know her over the beginning of the semester because of how much time they both spent in the fine arts building. That meant that he was able to help with the whole Santana situation, and thankfully he was willing to do so. Anything that made Brittany happy was good for the rest of the world, he’d said, and that applied even if that something was Santana.