Blaine likes to watch Kurt sleep.

Yeah, so maybe it was a touch odd to admit out loud. Maybe that's while he'll never admit it out loud.

But there's something about Kurt when he sleeps that makes Blaine's chest swell with something incomparable to the word 'love' itself.

The sun is rising slowly just outside Kurt's window, the curtains pulled back and the orange glow of morning tipping into the room and falling over the crisp white sheets covering both their bodies. Blaine can see tiny flicks of dust in the air but his eyes are too focused on the pale expanse of skin of Kurt's back. The sheet rests low on his naked hips and Blaine can make out the little dip right at the base of his spine.

He wants to kiss it.

But such an action would cause Kurt to stir and Blaine certainly didn't want that. So he simply lets his eyes linger on that tiny dip but then trails his gaze upwards, only a fraction of space, until his eyes settle on the birthmark Kurt has painted on his otherwise flawless skin. Blaine thinks the mark is shaped like a star. Kurt thinks he's delusional.

He watches the slow, steady rise and fall of Kurt's sleepy even breathing, his exhalations barely resonating in the silence of the room. His skin is so delicate, so precious and soft and warm, more fey like than any person's flesh has a right to be. But Kurt's is. Blaine remembers how it feels beneath his calloused fingertips, how unbelievable silken it is when it's covered in a thin sheen of sweat. At the moment, Blaine wants to let his tongue flit out to slide up Kurt's perfectly arched spine, to taste that salty skin he knows so well. But he doesn't.

Blaine is caught off guard when Kurt's nose twitches in his sleep and he can't help but smile at how adorable and absolutely charming the little tic is. Blaine keeps his eyes on Kurt's angelic face.

His cheeks are sleep-warm, flushed in the simple radiance of the morning sun and the angle of his jaw is shadowed by a ray of light. He looks so elegant. Kurt's eyelashes look darker, fluttered closed against his perfectly chiseled little check bones, and his features sort of glow in this light, almost incandescently. And then there's the slight slope of his pert nose that twitches again and Blaine's stomach does this swift flip-flop thing that he's only just getting used to, even though they've been together for a while now. Because Kurt is ethereally beautiful and Blaine has absolutely no idea what he's done to deserve such a striking boy in his life.

Kurt's hair is a shade of brown that Blaine has yet to identify on the color wheel because it's so much more than brown. Brown seems too plain, too drab of a word to describe the glossy locks atop his head. Honey doesn't seem the right shade either and Blaine's slowly coming to the conclusion that he might never be able to give a name to the color. And he's okay with that. Because it's just another way that Kurt defies everything he thought he knew.

And then Kurt's eyes flutter open, almost as if he senses Blaine's gaze upon him and Blaine can't help but fall into his eyes, a shiny shade of blue sprinkled with a dash of green and gold around the center. Kurt's lips turn up into a slight, weary smile and then Blaine thinks he glows just a touch more as his dimples make themselves apparent. And though the moment is over and he isn't watching Kurt sleep soundly anymore, the way Kurt's voice cracks from disuse when he whispers good morning makes Blaine's heart ache with something he can't quite define.

The sun is still spilling into the room, the heavy shade of orange flickering to yellow as a new day dawns and Blaine thinks Kurt looks just as lovely as he did when Blaine first woke to peer down at his peaceful, sleeping form.

When Kurt kisses him for the first time that morning, slow and sweet and heedless of morning breath, Blaine falls in love with Kurt Hummel all over again.

END.