It stole Blaine’s breath away, literally, like a punch in the stomach. Kurt, his beautiful Kurt, in that leather suit, the way his hips moved and his eyes sparked under the stage light. It was as though he was born to be there, to be better than all of them, with his perfect voice and his perfect heart.

If Blaine grabbed his hand and dragged him aside in the backstage after the end of their performance and kissed him until it was impossible to breathe, he thought he was perfectly justified.

*

Not even a single cell of his body hesitated; his muscles set into motion and before his brain could register what he had done he was standing in front of Kurt, the ice hitting him square in the face.

It hurt- the burning making him scream. The concrete was cold and wet underneath him, but there were only two things that he could feel: the pain spreading from his eye and numbing the rest of his face and Kurt’s hand on his shoulder, warm and gentle and worried.

He wanted to tell Kurt that he was going to be alright; he wanted to tell him not to let go of him.

*

The idea of the operation truly terrified him; what if something went wrong, what if he couldn’t perform anymore? Sure, the probability of that was quite low, but still...it scared him that he could lose it all, that he couldn’t become the musician he had always wanted to be, the right man to be by Kurt’s side.

But Kurt was always there, his soft hand into his, every single time that those thoughts started spiraling around in his head. He was there, reading to him and talking, filling Blaine’s room with his voice and with that sweet smell of his that Blaine had memorized since the first time they met on that stairway at Dalton.

When all of it would make him feel as though his ribcage was about to burst with the sheer force of what he felt for Kurt, Blaine would lean forward and kiss him.

Even after they had started exploring each other, even after he had seen the porcelain planes and curves of Kurt’s body, there was something precious in simply kissing him. So simple and so right every single time.

*

When Kurt told him about NYADA, Blaine almost tackled him to the bed, hugging him tight, as though he wanted to crawl under Kurt’s skin. He had never felt like that, so proud of someone. Indeed, before Kurt had breezed into his life, Blaine hadn’t cared so much for someone else. He had always had to fight for himself, to be liked, to find a place where his father’s disappointment couldn’t reach him.

But then he had met that beautiful and broke boy, he had looked into those eyes glossy because of the tears and he had wanted to make him feel better, to do something for him. And from then on, something new had grown inside of him.

He had never been in love before. But when Kurt sang to him, the affection lacing his words, Blaine was one hundred per cent sure that the warm knot right behind his sternum, the one that pulsed every time Kurt was close, and even more so when they were apart, was exactly that, love. And he thanked whoever was up there because he was discovering it with Kurt.