From Dad:
I'll come pick you up at the airport tomorrow. Call me when you land. Dad

Kurt locks his phone screen and looks over at the cup of medium drip across from him. Blaine texted few minutes ago saying he was on his way and that it was Prince's fault for muffling the alarm clock sleeping right on top of the phone. The speakers hum one Christmas song after the other and Kurt feels a bit like a teenage boy. Back then he didn't have boyfriends to pine over, nice boys to kiss and to take on coffee dates at the Lima Bean. Now, though, things are different. There's Blaine, with his easy laugh and his insanely soft curls, his old guitar and his warm hugs.

A week has passed since the Vogue's Christmas party and Kurt can still hear the words to the song Blaine sang on the staircase landing – Funny how I feel more myself with you than anybody else that I ever knew. He hears them when he waits for his train to go to work, when he gets Blaine's good morning messages, when he falls asleep and his mind is filled with BlaineBlaineBlaine. Maybe that's why it doesn't feel right to leave.

Kurt booked the airplane tickets months ago, after Carole called and gently reminded him that he hadn't gone back to Ohio in six months. Kurt had been looking forward to it, at least before a certain model stumbled into his life and kissed him. Now it feels wrong to take that plane and leave Blaine here. It is too soon and life has taught Kurt that feelings are volatile things. Like butterflies they burst out of their chrysalis and might fly away and get lost so fast.

Kurt traces the rim of the cup, steam coming up warm and thinks about the dopey smile Blaine flashed in his direction the other night, as Kurt struggled with his chopsticks at the small Thai restaurant round the corner. It's the little things that make Kurt's breath hitch in such a new and addicting way.

The small bell over the door dingles and Kurt lifts his gaze. Blaine's hair is an unruly mop, stray snowflakes caught in between his impossibly long eyelashes. His smile when he spots Kurt is enough to make Kurt's breath stutter.

"Sorry. I swear it was Prince's fault, he..."

Kurt shakes his head but lifts his cup up in a fake toast.

"Be my guest, mister Anderson."

Blaine chuckles, warm and easy, slipping into his seat gracefully. His foot immediately finds Kurt's ankle under the table and sparks twirl up Kurt's bones at the touch. Blaine isn't the first guy Kurt has dated, but with Blaine it feels as if every single thing weighs more, shines more, getting carved right into Kurt's skin. It is scary and thrilling at the same time.

Blaine waggles his eyebrows and chink his mug against Kurt's.

"It is my pleasure, mister Hummel."

With a whole day free from work, Kurt relaxes in his chair, the coffee rich on his tongue and Blaine smiling around bits of biscotti. They chat easily, about Prince, the beauty of Abba – because Blaine totally woke up with Mamma mia stuck in his head – and the photo shoot they'll have to work on once Kurt gets back to New York.

"Oh, and Santana told me if she doesn't get to meet you after Christmas she'll make a burning pyre out of my bowties."

Kurt blinks, barely avoiding to choke on a sip of his latte. He has already met Sam; he is a nice guy, if a bit nerdy, and Kurt felt comfortable enough around him. But meeting Santana is a completely different story. From what he has gathered she is like a sister to Blaine. They have never really talked about Blaine's first times in New York, but Isabelle might have hinted something and Kurt hasn't missed the fact that Blaine has never even accidentally mentioned his family.

"Do you think..."

The music rises slightly, a chorus bursting out of the speakers. Kurt startles and Blaine chuckles. Kurt shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it from the surge of emotion that simple sound sent twirling inside him.

"Don't you...isn't it a bit early for that?"

Blaine's brow furrows and Kurt's throat tightens reflexively. He didn't mean to upset him, it's just...Kurt knows he needs time to adjust to this, to having a person close enough that he risks to hurt him. Kurt has scalded himself before and he wants to be careful with Blaine, to take care of this special thing that fell into his lap from the sky. Kurt reaches across the table, his hand covering Blaine's, the contact still managing to send a shiver down Kurt's spine.

"I didn't mean to..."

Blaine turns his hand, palm now pressing up against Kurt's. He is smiling, small and honest.

"Hey, Kurt, don't worry. I get that. You don't have to feel obliged or anything."

"I'd love to meet her, just..."

Blaine tilts his head to the side, waiting patiently for him to go on and Kurt takes a deep breath and squeezes Blaine's hand slightly before going on.

"What if she doesn't like me?"

And Kurt feels small and naked sat in this caf� with Blaine looking straight at him, his eyes soft like caramel.

"Oh, babe."

The nickname is something new and oddly pleasing – making a warm fuzzy feeling spread through Kurt's stomach.

"I am sure she will love you."

Kurt nods, more to himself than to Blaine. Maybe going back home for the holidays will help him process all that has happened in the past week better and he'll be ready once he gets back to New York.

"Let's not worry about it just now. We have a whole day just for the two us."

Blaine's fingertips brush against Kurt's palm, they are callous because of the guitar and the simple feeling of them against smooth skin is delicious. Kurt has never felt close enough to someone to let himself completely go, losing control has always been too frightening. But just watching Blaine smile at him makes Kurt think that he could with Blaine.

The day is a blur of cold wind and old Christmas songs whispered in warm puffs of breath. By the end of it Kurt can't feel the tips of his ears anymore, but Blaine tastes of hot chocolate and cinnamon and nothing else matters.

~*~

Kurt has never liked airports – the smell they leave on your skin, people running too much without really caring about where they are going, people saying goodbye. Blaine has insisted to accompany him and Kurt truly is happy with it, to have Blaine there - hair ruffled because he dragged himself out of bed impossibly early to be with Kurt – means a lot. Still it leaves Kurt wondering if this is okay, if all this affection and closeness doesn't mean they are rushing things. In the past Kurt has never lowered his barriers so fast, keeping them up despite Chandler's sweet attempts and Adam's passion. Back then the most important thing had been to protect himself, it still is, and yet when it comes to Blaine rules defined by years of experience are shaken by a wind so strong Kurt wonders if he'll fly away with it too.

"I don't want you to go."

Kurt stops walking and the trolley skids over the linoleum floor and hits the back of his shins. Blaine is looking at him sideways, a blush high on his cheeks, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Blaine..."

"And I mean...I don't want you to feel bad about visiting your dad, of course, I...gosh, sorry that came out all wrong and..."

"You get kind of cute when you get nervous."

When Kurt realizes what he has just said he can feel his cheeks on fire and he is about to apologize when Blaine wraps him in a hug, right in the middle of the corridor, the squeaking of wheels on the floor all around, the thin voice from the speaker calling a flight to Paris.

It might have been only one week, but Kurt's body has already learned how to respond to Blaine's closeness; it fits easily with the curves and planes of Blaine's body. It feels right and safe and Kurt grabs the back of Blaine's coat, holding on.

Blaine's lips brush against his jaw, fleeting and soft.

"I will count the days until you come back."

And it is so much, so big that Kurt's breath hitches in his throat. It also makes Kurt feel so deeply happy that it seems surreal. Kurt doesn't know how much or how bad he'll miss Blaine, but he is sure he will think about him, about the coffees shared sat at Blaine's kitchen table and about Blaine's hands cupping his cheeks as they kiss.

Kurt doesn't reply, but holds Blaine a bit longer under the white ceiling of JFK airport.

~*~

Blaine's gaze is like a caress on Kurt's back as he slips under the metal detector and gathers his belongings from the conveyor belt. When he turns Blaine waves at him, the gesture cheerful and bright even though his eyes look a bit sad. Blaine's voice carries over the bustling of people getting in queue – "have a safe trip" – Kurt nods, waving his hand slowly, his heart heavy with something he can't quite name yet.

Sitting in the waiting room, flipping through an issue of Elle – their accessories pages are really well done, if he has to be honest – Kurt can't help his thoughts from wandering back to Blaine. He must have reached the underground station by now, Kurt pictures him waiting for the train, his curls moving in the wind that gets stuck in the tunnels.

Kurt feels silly, but he kind of wants to send him a text, to let Blaine know he is thinking about him. He knows it would mean behaving like a schoolgirl, but, despite what Blaine told him, Kurt can't help worrying about them drifting apart, what with having miles and miles between them so soon. Trying to focus on Gucci's new collection, Kurt takes a deep breath. Worrying too much won't help; he can't cling to Blaine like this. He has never done it with anyone and he won't start now.

He is wondering if taking a look at the duty free shops would help, when his phone vibrates in his jacket pocket.

Say hi to the clouds for me.

Kurt doesn't even try to hide his smile. An old lady squints at him, he simply shrugs.

I will. Keep New York good company while I am gone.

Leaning back against the plastic chair, Kurt takes a look at the departure board. His gate will open in ten minutes.

NY will be lonely without you.

Kurt sighs, the ghost of Blaine's arms still around him. He can't bring himself to admit that he already misses Blaine's presence. Over the past week they have managed to see each other every day, even if it was only for a coffee, a take-away dinner at Blaine's place or a walk before going to bed at night. It is astounding how easily all of this fit in Kurt's tight routine; it didn't take any effort to adjust, it just happened. And now thinking about a week back in Ohio without it all feels kind of wrong.

I will text you once I land. xx

It doesn't matter if what Kurt truly wants to write is something along the lines of crazy as it might sound I would bottle up clouds if means I would get to see your smile every single day.

Please do. Xxx

As the plane sails above the sea of clouds, Kurt closes his eyes and tries to sleep. All that he sees against the back backdrop of his eyelids is Blaine playing his guitar, curls falling in front of his honey eyes.

+++

Blaine is lying on his back on the living room carpet. He still feels kind of sleepy, but he still feels strung up too tight after having said goodbye to Kurt. There is still a hour until Kurt lands and Blaine imagines him flipping through the plane magazine; he hopes Kurt is thinking about him too.

His phone rings and Blaine reaches for it with his eyes still closed. His fingers slip over scattered music sheets before closing around it.

"Hello?"

"Squirt!"

Blaine huffs out a laugh. It doesn't matter how much time passes, Cooper always behaves like his 14-year-old self and Blaine kind of loves it. Because his elder brother has always been the only true constant – there were silly nicknames and pranks, but also arms to cuddle him close and a soft voice whispering he didn't do anything wrong, that he was loved.

"Coop."

"Did I wake you up? You sound like the dead."

Blaine toys with a stray pencil that he had abandoned on the floor alongside with his music sheets.

"Nah it's just..."

Cooper's voice thrills an octave higher in Blaine's ear.

"It's a boy, isn't it? I knew it!"

Blaine smiles at the ceiling. Before he met Santana and Sam, Cooper had been the only one who would insist for Blaine to talk about his crushes. Once, before Blaine left Westerville and when Cooper was already in LA, Blaine called him after a rough day, his dad's words still lodged into his skin like blades. Cooper didn't comment on that; he simply asked Blaine what his imaginary prince charming would be like. Blaine cradled the phone closer, curled on the bed, and imagined a loving and intelligent man, one who would understand. He could hear the smile in Cooper's voice when he told Blaine that he would find him one day.

"Fine, I'll admit it."

"For how long have you been seeing each other?"

Blaine doesn't even try to stop the dopey smile pulling at his lips.

"A week."

"And you haven't told me anything? How could you do this to your precious older brother?"

"Ha! Coop you are all but precious."

"Such an ungrateful baby brother. But I'll forgive you if you tell me everything about this boy of yours."

"Coop, you're going to be here tomorrow, can't you wait until then?"

Cooper sighs and Blaine can totally imagine him pouting.

"As you wish, you royal Squirt. I should land tomorrow at 2 pm, by the way."

"I will be there."

Cooper's voice is a nudge softer when he answers – "I know you will. I can't wait to hug you."

"See you tomorrow, Coop. Have a safe flight."

"Bye, Blainey."

Blaine listens to the tu-tu-tu of the line for a few seconds before ending the call. Cooper arrives uninvited every Christmas and Blaine is deeply grateful for it. It doesn't matter if for a few days his living room is a mess of scattered clothes and abandoned mugs of tea or if his apartment is constantly filled with questionable music. What matters is Cooper ruffling his hair at the kitchen table and Cooper laughing with Santana and Sam as they sit in some bar drinking beer. After all Cooper is Blaine's only family and Christmas would never be the same without him.

The rest of the morning tickles by slowly, between lukewarm tea and stray notes that end up being jotted down randomly on wrinkled music sheets. Blaine feels like of lazy, suspended in time as he waits for Kurt to land and text him. Blaine knows this week is going to be a hard one; even though he didn't mean for it to happen, it seems Kurt has slipped underneath his skin, breathing too close, shining too bright. Sometimes when Blaine stops what he is doing – in a break from shooting or simply when he arrives back home and flops down on the couch – it hits him all over again. How lucky he has been to meet Kurt, who likes him back and is both so frail and so strong. Blaine can tell from the way his heart swells at the simple sight of Kurt's smile that he is going to fall so much faster and harder than he has ever done before.

Blaine is fixing himself a toast, wondering if he should tell Sam to drop whatever he is doing and come over, when his phone skitters on the kitchen isle.

Landed safe and sound. The clouds say hello too.

Thank you for texting. Is it too much if I say I've been thinking of you since you left?

Blaine busies himself with squeezing an orange for some juice so he won't think too much about the fact that his phone isn't bleeping with an answer. Sometimes it is hard for him to understand what might be too much for Kurt and what not. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he is already "smitten like a fucking puppy", as Santana keeps reminding him on every occasion.

It isn't. I have the feeling I've dreamed of you up there.

Grateful that there isn't anyone looking, Blaine improvises a small dance around the kitchen, his whole body humming with happiness like a well-tuned instrument.

My dad is glaring at the phone. It might be safer to text to you later :)

Blaine blinks at the words; he knows Kurt will probably tell his dad about him. From what he has gathered their relationship is pretty close and he figures Burt will want to know if his son was dating someone. Blaine doesn't know how to feel about it; it's too new and surprising for Blaine to know how to approach it.

Back in high school Wes' parents knew Blaine but only as their son's friend from school. They have never known about those shy and clumsy kisses shared over open chemistry books and under the bleachers at Dalton. When Blaine met Jeremiah, he was already in New York and their relationship was more a dancing around each other, trying to figure out whether they could work or not. Jeremiah left him on a November afternoon and before then they had never even thought to make their relationship official.

Blaine thinks about Kurt's eyes blinking open in the morning, at the playful tilt of his mouth when he teases Blaine because he is taller.

Can I call you later tonight?

Sure! I kind of miss your voice already x

Blaine walks in the living room and snaps a picture of the mess on the floor.

Look what happens when you're not here! X

That is just you being messy as always. But I wish I were there.

I wish you were here too

+++

"So...what's with all the typing?"

Kurt blinks and hastens to pocket his phone before forcing himself to look at his dad. Burt nudges his hat back with his thumb.

"You can talk to me, kiddo, you know that."

Outside the road rolls away, shiny because of the cold. As always when he hops off a plane, Kurt's brain struggles to register that he is no longer in New York, but in another state all together.

"I know, dad. It's..."

"I take he is somewhat different than that Adam guy?"

The car stops at a traffic light and Kurt turns in his seat to face his dad properly.

"He is."

Burt smiles – they I-know-my-son-like-the-back-of-my-hand smile and drums his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting. Kurt chuckles; his dad truly is incredible.

"His name is Blaine. I met him in October."

"And what does he do?"

Kurt feels his heart swell at the thought that his dad hasn't changed one bit. Also, he is kind of adorable when he tries to play the good cop, but he slips and his questions always sound a bit like an interrogation.

"He is a model. Well, he wants to be a musician."

Burt remains silent for a bit, putting the car back in gear and

"Is he any good?"

Kurt thinks about the first time he heard Blaine sing in that small pub in Greenwich Village, about the lullaby he sang on the phone. He thinks about Blaine strumming his guitar after dinner, looking at him under stray curls until Kurt stood up and kissed him.

"He is."

Burt laughs, taking the turn for their house.

"What?"

"You sure are smitten, kiddo."

"Dad!"

Kurt looks at his hands, fisted on his dark gray jeans, as his dad parks the car. Burt's hand is warm and solid and familiar on his shoulder.

"Hey."

Kurt lifts his gaze and Burt is smiling at him.

"If he is a good guy, there's nothing wrong with being smitten, you know?"

~*~

Finn nudges him with his sock-clad toe and Kurt playfully rolls his eyes before handing him the popcorn bowl. Being happy at home feels nice – Carole's kind gazes and his dad watching the game sat on his favorite armchair. And Finn, who's back home for the holidays too and has tons of stories about his students in Columbus. They make Kurt think of how they all were back in high school, when the Glee club was their second one.

"You look happy, bro."

The "bro" has stopped annoying Kurt a long time ago, now it makes him feel warm. Having a step brother like Finn is one of the best things that have ever happened to him. He hums in response and flips through one of Carole's design magazines.

"And how is Rachel?"

Kurt lifts his gaze and studies Finn's face. He knows Finn is over her and has a lovely girlfriend named Sandra now, but still it never hurts to be sure. His step brother is looking at him calmly, a sincere smile on his face, and Kurt relaxes.

"She is fine. Still working with the off-Broadway company."

Finn nods.

"That's good. She mentioned a new audition in one of her last emails?"

Sometimes Kurt envies how close Rachel and Finn have managed to remain even after all their complicated history. He has never felt comfortable enough to contact Chandler or, God forbid, Adam. It would be too embarrassing and it would make Kurt's very skin itch with discomfort.

"Yes. She landed a Funny Girl audition. You can imagine how much that means to her."

Finn grins.

"I can imagine."

When he gets to spend some time with Finn, Kurt always ends up thinking about the New Directions and all that they shared. Today he wonders if Blaine would have liked it there. What it would have been like to grow up by Blaine's side, to get to see those smiles and golden eyes in the school corridors every day. As if on cue his phone beeps insistently in his pocket. Even though he hasn't seen who is calling yet, Kurt smiles and Finn nudges him again.

"What? I need to answer."

"Someone special, uh?"

Finn is grinning wolfishly and Kurt glares at him. Finn raises his hands in mock surrender, the bowl resting on his stomach.

"Wow don't shoot, bro."

Kurt rolls his eyes and makes his way to the stairs, clutching his cell phone tightly. Once he is on the first floor landing he answers the call, even though he is pretty sure his dad has just tuned down the television's volume to hear something.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, stranger."

Kurt chuckles, leaning back against his room's door. It feels weird to be talking to Blaine, something so new in his life, standing in his old room.

"It's...it's nice to hear you."

Blaine's laugh sloshes into Kurt's ear, like warm water. Some voices come muffled down the line, Kurt thinks he recognizes Sam's. An unknown male voice rises a bit higher – "Say hi to your sweetheart for me, Blainey". Kurt tenses, nails skating over the wooden surface of the door.

"Cooper! God, sorry, Kurt. That would be my idiotic brother."

Kurt hopes Blaine doesn't catch the relief in his voice when he answers – "Oh, all right."

"So, how it is to be finally back home? Did they have the red carpet you deserve?"

Blaine's voice is gentle and Kurt doesn't mind the teasing one bit.

"That's for when I'll become the new Anna Wintour."

Blaine laughs and Kurt's heart flutters at the sound. He lets his gaze roam; everything is as it was back then – pictures of the last national competition on the corkboard, some Breadsticks' receipts, a dried rose he wore on his lapel for prom in his senior year.

"That means next time you'll be back to Ohio paparazzi will assault you."

"It's definitely a possibility."

Kurt grins even though there's no one here with him and makes his way to the bed, sitting down on top of it.

"Jokes aside, today was pretty weird."

"Why is that?"

Kurt listens to Blaine taking a breath and plays with the frayed edge of a woolen plaid Carole put on top of the comforter.

"Because I couldn't look forward to seeing you at the end of the day? I know it sounds cheesy and yeah I'm probably making a fool of myself, but..."

"You are not. I...I feel that way too."

Silence stretches and Kurt tries to count the beats of his heart, but they are too fast and he loses track.

"It was pretty cheesy, though."

Blaine chuckles and the mood lifts, Kurt allowing himself to fall backwards on the mattress and smile at the ceiling.

"I am the king of cheesiness."

More voices carry over the line, laughter and something that sounds like "squirt! Help me out here, Satan is cheating."

"Seems things are getting on without you."

Blaine hums, the sound making the hair on Kurt's arms raise.

"I don't care. I just want to hear you."

Kurt's mouth is suddenly dry and he feels too warm. His voice comes out breathless when he murmurs an "oh...really?"

"Of course. I don't know why...but it feels like you've been gone for years."

And it is insane to feel like this after one single week, Kurt knows that, but it doesn't prevent the longing from spreading through him like a flood. He closes his eyes and thinks that this week is going to be way too long.

"I know. And yet we saw each other this morning. We must be crazy."

"Maybe. I don't mind being crazy with you, though."

Kurt's cheeks are hurting because of how much he is smiling. When he was a boy he spent so many nights wishing he could have the same things as Finn and Rachel and his other friends – hours spent on the phone, and daydreams and texts and silly future plans to go and live together in the big city. Now being here, curled up on his bed, Blaine's smooth voice in his ear, it all feels a bit like a dream come true.

"I definitely don't mind either."

On Blaine's side of the line something crashes and a woman's voice laughs loudly.

"Ugh I think I might have to go and check on them this time."

"Don't worry. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Sleep well, baby."

Despite his breath playing hide and seek in his lungs, Kurt manages to reply, his heart thumping happily.

"Good night, Blaine."

+++

"It was mister hot pants, wasn't it?"

Santana's eyes are positively glinting, her lips tinted violet by the red wine.

"Stop calling him like that. He has a name and you know it."

Cooper reaches for him, dragging Blaine down to sit by his side on the couch.

"Aw look how he gets all defensive."

Blaine glares at him, but Cooper's smile is fond. Blaine hasn't told him anything about Kurt yet, but surely Cooper must have sensed he is happy and imagined that Kurt is a completely different guy compared to Jeremiah and the others.

"Dude, you didn't have enough to drink. You've to catch up with us."

Sam thrusts a bottle of beer in his hand and Blaine raises it in a mock salute before taking a swig. Over the years this has become a tradition – the day Cooper arrives in town for Christmas, Santana and Sam come over for a round of drinks and they chat and play silly games when they are in the mood. Tonight it sees the main theme is annoy-Blaine-about-Kurt, though.

"Sooo little brother of mine, isn't it time to tell me something about this mysterious guy of yours?"

Blaine shrugs, the beer cold down his throat.

"He isn't mysterious at all, Coop."

Santana, who's sitting on the floor, nudges the tip of her boot against Blaine's ankle.

"C'mon, hobbit. He has the right to know. And if you don't spill, I'll tell him all that there is to know. Like how badly you'd like to bone him or..."

"Santana!"

Cooper practically howls with laughter and Sam slaps Blaine's knee, a smile on his face that seems to say "you knew what you were in for, bro". Blaine groans, head thumping against the back of the couch.

"His name is Kurt and he is...well, he is kind of perfect."

Santana chuckles, eyes sparking over the rim of her glass.

"Aren't you the perfect Snow White."

Cooper snorts and Blaine wishes the beer could have a more immediate effect.

"You're a wicked genius, Satan. I wish I had thought about it years ago. Snow White, the perfect nickname."

Santana raises her glass in Cooper's direction before finishing the wine in one gulp.

"I know, Big Jim. But it's good to have you around to remind him."

Her smile is not nearly as scalding as her words. Blaine knows she loves Cooper, they have grown closer over time, with Santana being part of their small family now. They probably conspire behind Blaine's back for his well-being, he is sure of that.

"So, Blainey, what more, beside the fact that he is perfect?"

Cooper's words are slightly slurred – he must be on his fourth or fifth beer – but his eyes are attentive and Blaine feels oddly bared under his gaze.

"I...I really like him, like a lot."

Cooper hums, twirling the bottle in his hand.

"It has been a while."

Blaine picks at the label of his beer to give himself something to focus on. What he is about to say is big, it weighs at the back of his tongue.

"It's the first time I've felt like this."

Silence stretches and Blaine shifts on the couch. When he lifts his gaze Santana is looking at him as though he has grown a second head and Sam is sporting an eerie grin. Cooper, instead, is smiling – one of those rare, honest smiles, all fondness and pride. He smiled like that the day he visited Blaine in New York for the first time. It was raining and Blaine still remembers how tightly Cooper had hugged him, the rain drops drumming on the sidewalk.

"I do hope he is the right one for you, little bro."

Blaine blinks against the sudden pressure of tears building behind his eyes.

"I think he might be."

"All right, all right. Too much babbling and not enough drinking."

Santana snatches Blaine's beer bottle and hands him a small glass filled with vodka.

"To non-existent soulmates."

There's no bite behind her words and her smile is sweet and tender. Blaine clinks their glasses together and lets happiness spread through him along with the alcohol.

~*~

The sheets are too cold against his overheated skin and Blaine presses his face against the pillow. If he closes his eyes he has the feeling that the whole world is spinning out of axis. Why does he always make the same mistakes? Like deciding that accepting a drinking challenge by Santana might be fun. The more he drank the more his thoughts kept wandering back to Kurt. Elegant, witty, gorgeous Kurt, with his long legs and strong arms and perfect jaw. And now he is almost painfully hard, the friction of his erection against the mattress sending shocks down his spine.

Blaine whines, shoving the sheets away. There's a small part of him that thinks he should feel guilty; he and Kurt have been seeing each other only for a week after all. But to be honest Blaine has been thinking about Kurt way longer than that. From that day on Bethesda Terrace Kurt's eyes, his pale wrists, his broad shoulders have visited Blaine's dreams without him being brave enough to act on them. But now he is loose-limbed and light because of the vodka and he doesn't even try to stop his hand from wandering South, sliding under the waistband of his boxers.

It is easy to imagine Kurt over him, all lean and strong limbs, to imagine that it is Kurt who is touching him, fingers curled tight, pumping slowly. Blaine's breath hitches, his heart slamming against his ribcage. He has never realized how much he wants this with Kurt – the closeness, the touch, the overwhelming possibility of feeling Kurt.

If Kurt were here, Blaine would kiss him until their lungs burn for air, he would touch him as though Kurt was a treasure. Blaine's hand slips behind his balls, pressing lightly against his entrance. No one has ever touched him there and yet if Blaine imagines Kurt doing it heat spreads through him, burning from head to toe.

The telltale tingling at the base of his spine is there and Blaine speeds up his hand, white crowding the edge of his vision, but Kurt's eyes sparking against the backdrop of his closed eyelids.

~*~

[pic bowtie]

Look what Coop got me! Am I elegant enough for you? :D

Oh your brother has good taste ;)

Haha you're really funny. Anyway, happy Christmas! :D

[pic with Christmas hat]

Happy Christmas to you too. Also, where did you even find that? :)

It is part of Cooper's Christmas kit of course. And don't I get a picture too?

[Kurt pic]

Hope this is to your liking, mister ;)

Tina took it yesterday while we were skating.

It definitely is. Have I ever told you that you're beautiful?

I think this is the first time.

I'll never stop reminding you :)

Christmas makes you even more cheesy. (Thank you)

You've no idea! (no need to thank me, it's the absolute truth)

Also I want to kiss you...

I can't wait to be back.

You'll find me here. Always

+++


"Hey, baby."

The music in Rachel's basement is loud and Kurt has to move up the stairs and slip into the empty living room. It's five past midnight and he has been dying to hear Blaines voice for the best part of the night.

"Hey."

"Is it midnight in Ohio too already?"

"So they tell me. Happy new year, Blaine."

The fact that he can say Blaine's name so freely still makes Kurt feel slightly breathless.

"Happy new year to you too."

Kurt wonders if it is normal for his heart to feel heavier only because he can hear Blaine breathing down the phone line.

"I kind of want to be there with you. Cooper would pester you to no end, but I'd rescue you and I'd ask you to dance."

Kurt flops down on the couch; if he closes his eyes he can picture Blaine smiling, eyes sparkling and cheeks slightly redder because of the alcohol. Kurt wants to kiss him more than anything else, to feel Blaine's shoulder blades shift under his hands.

"I would accept graciously."

Blaine laughs and Kurt smiles at the sound. When Blaine speaks again his voice is lower and it makes heat pool at the bottom of Kurt's stomach.

"I wouldn't let you go, though. I would hug you close all night."

And maybe they are both slightly tipsy and high on longing, but Kurt is past the point of worrying about being inappropriate.

"I would let you."

His breath is coming shorter now and the silence down the line feels heavy with promises.

"W-we only have two days left, right?"

"Yes."

Kurt is taken aback by how strongly he wants to be back in New York, by how much being away from Blaine is affecting him. It was something he wasn't expecting and yet the weight of this longing doesn't feel unnatural or wrong. Blaine's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"We can resist then."

Kurt nods even though Blaine can't see him.

"Of course we can."

~*~

The humming of the plane's engine lulls him in and out of sleep and Kurt lets himself go. Burt accompanied him to the airport with the promise to come to New York soon and Kurt truly hopes he'll be able to keep that promise. His dad hasn't visited him much over the years, what with the shop and the Kurt's crazy schedule, but Kurt wants him to be a part of his life in the big city too, to see the places where he lives, where he dreams, where he is slowly falling in love with Blaine.

The simple thought that they are going to see each other soon, that Blaine will be waiting for him at the airport is enough for Kurt's heart to win the battle against gravity. He feels so light and excited that his head spins with it. Rachel has teased him to no end about the "pining lady look" in his eyes and Kurt has denied it until the end, even though he knows she can read him like an open book after everything they have shared. She already is back in New York, having taken an early plane because of scheduled rehearsals and Kurt is happy to not have to go back to an empty house.

The security check is a blur of drumming heart and aching fingers because he is holding the handle of his suitcase too tightly to give himself some kind of anchor. Walking out the passenger area Kurt holds his breath, there are so many people waiting for relatives and friends and colleagues and among all of them, there he is. Blaine smiles at him, holding a sheet of paper with Mr. Hummel scribbled on it. Kurt's shoes skid a bit on the linoleum floor, but it doesn't matter, not when Blaine's arms are around him, pulling him close.

"Welcome back."

Kurt holds on a bit tighter, his lips brushing against Blaine's temple.

"It is nice to be back."

Blaine smells of cider and of New York and Kurt is too overwhelmed to worry about the fact that once again they are hugging in the middle of an airport.

"Come on, I'll get you home."

Kurt takes Blaine's offered hand and doesn't let go of it until they are standing on the steps of his building, kissing as though they need it to breathe, the lights of New York blinking all around them.