Pavarotti chirped happily at Kurt as his cage was freed from the Burberry cover his owner always put over him during the car drive from Dalton and back home.

“Do you think I was too harsh?” Kurt wondered at the bird as he opened a bottle of water and recalled the scene that happened at Dalton's parking lot.

“Kurt!” Blaine had called after him earlier that day, making the boy turn around and stop his pace.

“What's going on, Blaine?” Kurt asked him.

“I… what did you mean earlier? When you said the Warblers were me and the Pips?”

Kurt sighed as they reached his Navigator. After carefully making sure Pavarotti's cage was secured on the back seat, he turned around to look at Blaine, his back resting against the car.

“Listen, I can imagine how flattering it is to be the leader of the Warblers but… it's not just you, you know?” Kurt tried to explain. “Remember what you told me months ago, when I auditioned with Don't Cry For Me Argentina?”

“That we are wearing the uniform for a reason?”

“Exactly, no one is supposed to stand out. Yet, you are listed as the only lead vocal on all of our numbers.”

“But it's the Council…”

“Listen,” Kurt interrupted him. “I'm not saying that I should get a lead solo, even if I would kill to have one, but the New Directions won Sectionals without having Rachel, who is the leader of the group, singing on any song. And the theme is original, yet we are going to Regionals with the same program as we did for Sectionals? You really think we can win?”

“I…” Blaine gaped at him. “Maybe you are right,” he eventually admitted.

“It is probably too late anyway, to come up with a brand new program, Regionals are next week,” Kurt said eventually, carefully closing the door and walking around the car to the front.

“You said New Directions always end up choosing the set list less than two days before the competition,” Blaine piped in.

Kurt gave him a grin. “But the Warblers aren't the New Directions,” he replied, opening the door and slipping off his coat, carefully folding it on the passenger seat.

“Kurt?” Blaine called.

“Yes?” Kurt asked, looking at his friend across the roof of the car.

Blaine gave him a smile. “I'll talk with Wes and the council.”

Kurt had snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“Can you really imagine the Council changing their idea and splitting the leads among the other Warblers?” Kurt asked the yellow bird, pouring some water in the container before sitting down on the bed and taking a sip from the same bottle. “Sure, Blaine is the one person who could make them change…” the buzz of his cellphone from the desk cut off the rest of his remarks. He grabbed it and slid his fingertip over the screen, tapping on the new message.

It was from Wes.

‘Emergency meeting tomorrow at 4pm. Please, make sure to not miss it as there have been some changes in the set list.'

Kurt blinked at the screen and glanced shocked at the bird.

“Well, I guess Blaine did manage to make them change their mind,” he commented surprised, before an excited smile spread across his face.

Pavarotti just chirped at him.

* * *

Kurt was trying to take deep breaths to calm himself. The worst was behind them; they were now only faced with the curtain in front of them, waiting to rise up and reveal the three choir groups and expecting the judges to announce the winner.

If he was sure of one thing, it was that Aural Intensity didn't have a chance to win. So it all came down to the Warblers and New Directions. His ex-schoolmates had been great, they wrote their own songs and performed them flawlessly, the confetti slushies at the end were particularly well received by the crowd. But Kurt also thought the Warblers had done a decent job. Sure, he hadn't been that thrilled at the reveal of the set list. The first song had been a mash-up between ‘Hallelujah' by Leonard Cohen and the same titled song by Paramore. The council had decided on the mash up idea thanks to Kurt, who had once mentioned doing them at McKinley to Wes soon after Kurt had moved and the senior had stopped him in the hallway, questioning him about how he was adjusting to Dalton.

Being an atheist, Kurt hadn't been thrilled with the song choice but he knew that at that point, they were already running close with the time and he didn't want to throw a diva fit just because of that.

Then, the Council had announced the second song and Kurt had rolled his eyes because of course they would have gone with ‘Spirit in the Sky'. His tongue was already hurting from biting on it when Thad started listing the soloist on it, because again, it wouldn't be a full solo for Blaine. Obviously, Blaine was one of the soloists on the song but so were Wes and David. And Kurt. His eyes bulged out of his sockets at the realization that yes, he had just been listed as a lead soloist.

“We came with an arrangement that would work perfectly with your higher register, Warbler Kurt,” Thad had explained. “Do you accept the spot?”

“Sure,” Kurt had stammered. He wasn't crazy about the song choice but they had given him a lead part on it, and if an Indian family could sing on it for charity, then he could sing it for Regionals.

And he did it. And according to what Blaine, Rachel, Mercedes and the rest of Warblers and New Directions had told him after their number, he had been great on it.

So there he was now, standing near Blaine, his eyes wandering from left to right, as they waited for the proclamation.

Carla Turlington Stevens was called to announce the winner, and after a drunken slur, screams and cheers erupted all around Kurt.

The Warblers won Regionals. They were going to New York.

* * *

“Are you sure you'll be okay? I can stay here if you want,” Blaine suggested, giving Kurt's hand a squeeze.

Kurt shook his head in reply. “No, I'll be okay,” he assured his friend. “Just… go sit behind the corner? I'll come to you when we finish.”

Blaine looked at apprehensively but eventually he nodded and stood up, leaving Kurt alone after a final pat on the shoulder.

They weren't sitting at the Lima Bean for once; instead they went to a different, small coffee shop, midway between Lima and Westerville. Five days prior Kurt had received a text on his cellphone.

‘Can we meet up somewhere? I need to talk with you.'

It was from Dave Karofsky.

At first Kurt didn't know how to act so he did the only thing that his brain was telling him to do. He went to Blaine and told him everything. At the end, Kurt decided to give Karofsky a chance to see what he wanted to tell him and Blaine had offered to come with him, even if for just hiding in a corner.

“Hey.”

Kurt looked up at the sound of the voice and indeed, Dave was standing in front of him, surprisingly not wearing his letterman jacket but Kurt understood, he was probably trying to not stand out wearing a jacket from a school one hour of driving away.

“Hello Dave,” Kurt greeted back and gestured to the seat in front of him.

Karofsky sat down, his hands nervously tapping on the table.

“So…” he started only to grow silent again.

Kurt arched an eyebrow at him.

“Won't you get something to drink?” Kurt asked him, his own fingers playing with the paper cup in his hand.

Karofsky shook his head and bit nervously on his lips.

“How are things… at Dalton, I mean?” he asked eventually.

“Oh,” Kurt was surprised by the question. “Good? I mean, the commute can get tiresome but I like the school even if I have more work to do.”

“Good,” Karofsky nodded and avoided Kurt's eyes again.

Kurt sighed.

“Why did you call me, Dave?” he asked.

At that point, Dave looked at him and Kurt saw his Adam's apple bob.

“I've been seeing someone.”

“What?” Kurt's voice went high with surprise.

“Not that way!” Dave added nervously, looking around as afraid someone might have heard them. “I meant… I'm seeing people in a group? You know… like that club you once suggested?”

“A PFLAG club?” Kurt offered.

“Yes,” Karofsky nodded and suddenly he seemed a little bit calmer. “It's not in Lima, so there's no one there who could recognize me…”

“And out you?” Kurt prompted.

“Exactly,” Dave sighed.

“So, things are going better for you?”

“Yes.”

“I'm glad to hear that, Dave,” Kurt admitted with a smile and the other boy gave him a small smile in return.

“The reason why I wanted to talk with you,” David started then, stopping a bit to take a deep breath. “I'll be changing schools next year.”

Kurt stopped playing with the cup and looked at the boy in front of him, his eyes slowly blinking in surprise.

“Really?”

Dave nodded. “I talked with my father and… I don't know, I don't feel good at McKinley anymore. Between the football team and what I did to you, I just feel like… changing air for my senior year, you know?”

Kurt nodded slowly.

“I wanted you to know so… well, if you want to come back you can,” Dave added in slow voice. “Not that I would do anything to harm you if you'd ever decide to come back with me still being there,” he added in a rush.

Kurt lifted his hand and shook his head.

“Don't worry, I understand it,” he calmed the other boy. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Dave nodded back at him.

“So, will you come back?”

“I don't know,” Kurt admitted

“Also, Coach Beiste made it quite clear that if she hears anything about one of the jocks bullying any kid at school, they will be out of the team immediately,” Karofsky added in a second thought.

“That's good,” Kurt admitted, his thoughts still buzzing from the news. He was free to come back to William McKinley High in the fall, back to the New Directions but… away from Blaine. Sure, the two of them were still friends only, but this didn't mean that Kurt liked the other boy any less…

“Well, I will go now,” Karofsky suddenly said, pushing back his chair.  “Umm,” he stopped then, looking out of the window. “Do you need a ride home? I didn't see your Navigator outside…”

“Oh,” Kurt said, a feeling of heat rising up to his cheek. “I didn't drive here… I came with Blaine?” he offered.

“The curly haired guy from Dalton?”

“That would be him.”

“Are you two like… dating?” Dave asked carefully and Kurt's cheeks fully flushed now.

“No, not really,” Kurt explained with a shook of his head. “But we are really good friends and he offered to drive me here.”

“Where is he now?”

“Umm… sitting on a table in the corner?” Kurt offered.

Dave looked at him curiously.

“You sure you guys aren't dating?”

“Yes, Dave.”

“Okaay,” Karofsky dragged out the word but he seemed amused by the situation. “If you say so… well, thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“Take care,” Dave said then, standing up and zipping up his jacket.

“Bye,” Kurt said back with a wave.

“How did it go?” Blaine appeared barely seconds after the front doors of the coffee shop have closed behind Dave.

“It went okay,” Kurt said after a moment of silence. He looked up into Blaine's eyes. “He will be changing school next year, I can go back to McKinley.”

Blaine's eyes widened in shock.

“Will you go?”

Kurt looked back down to the paper cup in front of him, the remaining coffee in have gotten cold by that point.

“I don't know,” he admitted, slowly standing up and taking the cup in his hand. Blaine followed him out of the shop and onto the parking lot. “I really don't know,” Kurt repeated to himself, throwing his cup away.

* * *

“I don't know why, but I always preferred Leonardo in Romeo + Juliet rather than in Titanic.”

“He dies in both.”

“But at least his hair looks good.”

“Of course Blaine. Compared to that awful thing he had on his head in The Iron Mask, even the short cut in The Beach looks good.”

…

“Part me of always hopes that one time I will watch Moulin Rouge and Satine won't die.”

…

Kurt and Blaine were driving across Lima from Breadstix, where the two of them had went for a late dinner after spending the late afternoon and evening watching a triple feature of Luhrmann's Red Velvet Curtain Trilogy at an old movie theater.

“Can you turn left next?” Kurt suddenly asked, his voice heard above the low notes coming from the car radio.

“Kurt,” Blaine said after two seconds. “That's the street…”

“I know,” Kurt said. “McKinley is there and it's junior prom night. I want to see how it looks. Please?” he asked, turning his head to look at his friend.

“Okay,” Blaine nodded and turned on the indicator before slowly taking the turn and driving down the road and finding a parking spot in the almost full parking lot.

They walked towards the gym in silence, Kurt half of a step in front of Blaine. The hallways were empty and given the late hour, everyone was probably on the dance floor, enjoying the last fifteen minutes or so of the dance.

The music started reechoing once they made a turn and Kurt slowed down his pace until he was one step from the entrance to the gym. He could hear Mercedes singing a song and finally, he decided to sneak his head inside to peek at the dance floor.

“Oh my God,” he gasped.

“What?” Blaine asked, peeking around Kurt himself.

“Santana and Karofsky were crowned Prom Queen and King,” Kurt explained. “I don't want to be in Finn's shoes right now,” he added after a second thought.

“He was running, too?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “With Quinn. And from what he told me, she was taking the title of Prom Queen seriously.”

“I guess they didn't have a nice evening then,” Blaine commented and stepped back again, leaning against the wall near Kurt. They remained in silence, Blaine waiting for Kurt and Kurt looking around the gym. He couldn't see his step-brother or Quinn, but the rest of the New Directions seemed to be there and everyone was having fun, dancing on the dance floor on a slow ballad that had just started.

“Do you ever wonder how would it be?” Kurt asked.

“How would it be what?”

Kurt looked away from the gym and turned to look at his friend. “Being at a school dance with a boy. As a date. And spend the night dancing together, like everyone else do.”

Blaine suddenly stiffened and his body slowly slipped down to the floor until he was sitting propped against the wall.

“I did it once,” he said in a low breath. “I went to a school dance with a boy.”

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise and he knelt down near Blaine. “Really? When?”

Blaine's head thumped against the wall and he closed his eyes. “At my old school. Before I moved to Dalton.”

A sudden chill run down Kurt's spine and his hand automatically reached for Blaine's.

“Blaine,” he whispered his friend's name. “What happened?”

Blaine remained silent, simply sitting there and breathing slowly through his nose until his eyes opened and fixed on the ceiling.

“We danced, we had fun…” he bit on his lower lip and looked at Kurt. “And then we got beaten up in the parking lot. You know the rest.”

A gasp of shock left Kurt's lips and his hand tightened around Blaine's.

“Blaine, I'm sorry. I didn't knew, if I…” Kurt stumbled upon his own words, trying to figure out what exactly did he wanted to say.

“Kurt, shhh,” Blaine stopped him then, covering Kurt's hand with his other one. “It's okay. You didn't know, seriously… I'm okay now.”

“I didn't want to force you to tell me…”

Blaine gave him a small smile. “You didn't force me, I wanted to tell you.”

Kurt nodded and sniffed, trying to force the tears that suddenly have appeared in his eyes back from falling down his cheeks.

They spent more moments like that, just sitting on the floor with their hands entwined as the final notes of the ballads were belted from inside the gym.

“Come on,” Kurt said then, standing up and pulling Blaine with him. “Let's go. I was only curious about the color scheme to see if it would have matched the outfit I had planned,” he explained as he dragged Blaine back to the parking lot.

“You had an outfit planned even though you are at Dalton, now?” Blaine asked surprised.

Kurt snorted a laugh and looked back at him.

“Of course I had, Blaine. I thought you knew me!”

* * *

Kurt readjusted the suit bag hanging over his arm as he joined the rest of the Warblers after Wes called them close. He couldn't believe it; they were finally in New York. Their flight had been delayed so they ended up landing in the evening instead of the early afternoon, which meant that his time to see around was cut even shorter than he had planned, but somehow he would have to make it work.

“Warblers, may I have a minute?” Wes voice spoke up and Kurt gave him his whole attention.

“I do realize we all must be tired from the trip and I assure you I'll try to be as quick as possible,” Wes started. “I just wanted to remind you of the schedule. Tomorrow morning you will all be free to visit the city. I ask of you only three things. One,” he said, lifting his index finger. “Be back for noon, if you'll want to have lunch in the hotel, 1pm if you'll decide to eat out. We will spend the afternoon going through our last rehearsal, so please try to not spend the morning joining activities that would put a strain on your vocal chords.” His eyes landed on Jeff, who promptly gave him an anything but reassuring grin. “Two,” Wes continued, joining his middle finger to the index. “If you decide to visit the city, please make sure to be in group or at least warn someone of your plans if you'll plan on do something on your own. David, Thad and I will always have our cellphone on us. Finally, Three,” his eyes went back to Jeff as his ring finger got lifted as well. “Please, keep in mind we are still representing Dalton Academy so act according to our school policy.”

A round of affirmative sounds followed him and the Senior Warbler gave them a smile.

“You are now free to go up to your rooms, in case you forgot who are you rooming with, each of the council members have a full list. Have a good night,” he eventually finished with a clap of his hands, probably in the lack of his gavel.

Kurt bounced on his feet as he and Blaine waited for Wes to step to them, the three of them roommates.

This was going to be awesome.

* * *

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered from his kneeling position in front of his friend's bed. “Blaine!” he hissed, shoving him by the shoulder.

“Wha?” a mass of curls appeared from under the blanket. “Kurt? What's going on?”

“We have barely six hours to make the best of visiting New York City, that's what's going on,” Kurt reasoned through a hiss, trying to not wake up Wes sleeping on the other side of the room. “You have fifteen minutes to get ready.”

“Is there any coffee?” Blaine mumbled.

Kurt grinned. “It's in the plans.”

* * *

“Have I ever told you, you are a genius?” Blaine asked around a mouthful of croissant.

“No, but I knew that already,” Kurt grinned around his cup of coffee.

“And there's something about the coffee…” Blaine pointed out.

Kurt nodded. “I think it's the water!”

They grew silent as they simply enjoyed their breakfast as they looked around 5th Avenue.

“I think I'll be coming here,” Kurt said then. “After graduation.”

“Would you be shocked if I told you I wasn't even surprised?”

Kurt looked at Blaine and mirrored his smile. “What about you?” he asked.

“After graduation?”

Kurt nodded and stuffed the final bite of the croissant in his mouth.

“I don't know, I still have two years to go,” Blaine answered. “But New York certainly has its appeal,” he added in an afterthought.

“Also, you'd have a friend in the city.”

Blaine smiled at him. “The best one.”

Kurt grinned at him. Thoughts of he and Blaine walking around New York together, maybe even sharing a tiny flat started crossing his mind. And who cared if in his fantasies he and Blaine were something more than friends, maybe in two years…

“So, is there anywhere else you want to go?” Blaine, now busy with wiping his mouth with the napkin, interrupted Kurt's thoughts.

“Actually,” Kurt dragged out the words as he took the empty cup from his friend's hands and threw it in the garbage bin near-by. He turned on his heels to look at Blaine with the biggest grin he could give him. “There is another place.”

* * *

“You do know Wes can never hear about this?” Blaine hissed as he followed Kurt into the dark theater.

“Blaine Anderson, we are in the Gershwin Theatre, if you think any of the thoughts crossing my mind right now are even remotely relevant to the Warblers, you obviously don't know me,” Kurt snapped back as the two of them stopped in front of a double door. “Now, the moment of truth…” Kurt said and inhaled a deep breath as his hand slowly turned the knob.

“It's open,” he exhaled as he walked through the door and ushered Blaine with him, closing it carefully behind them.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, looking around himself. Rows and rows of seats and there it was, the stage. With the crashed house standing there, in the middle of it.

Kurt blindly grasped for Blaine's hands and tugged him forward, walking towards the stage.

“Kurt, I think…” Blaine started but a sudden booming voice interrupted him.

“What are you two doing here?” a large security man called behind them.

Kurt and Blaine turned on their heels, feet stuck on the floor and unable to move.

The security guard was slowly walking towards them. “You are not supposed to be here,” he said in deep voice.

“Sir,” Blaine started and took a half step in front of Kurt, like guarding him. “We are deeply sorry but we…”

“We're cast as extras!” Kurt piped in and stepped around his friend. “They told us to come here to fit our costumes but I think we got lost. Would you be kind enough to show us the way?”

The man looked at him and then moved his eyes to Blaine. “Where are you two from? Indiana?”

“Ohio,” Blaine answered and Kurt felt the sudden urge to step on his friend's toes.

“Let me guess,” the man, Mo – as his nametag stated, said. “You have some really big dream about singing on a real Broadway stage.”

“Actually,” Blaine tried to speak up, but Mo continued ignoring him.

“You have fifteen minutes,” he eventually said before slowly turning and walking up the rows. “Please make sure you don't leave any lights on.”

“Oh my God,” Kurt gripped Blaine's forearm.

“Did that really happen?” Blaine asked in shock.

Kurt was bouncing on his feet at that point. “Come on, come on,” he squealed with a high-pitched voice. “We have only fifteen minute,” he grabbed Blaine's hand and dragged him down the rows, quickly reaching the stairs to the stage.

His heart was beating faster than he had ever recalled and his eyes were wide, trying to look around as much as possible, hoping to imprint every sight in his memory. Blaine was beside him, looking as much in awe as Kurt was.

“Do you think I could…” Kurt wasn't even sure if he could voice out his wish.

But apparently Blaine really did know him well. “Sing a song?” he asked with a smile.

Kurt nodded nervously.

Blaine grinned. “I think the stage is all yours,” he said with a half bow as he stepped back towards the stairs.

Kurt twisted his fingers as he looked at his friend taking a seat in the front row.

“Come on, Kurt,” Blaine encouraged him. “I know one day you'll be singing on a Broadway stage, but you have a chance to do it now. Seize the moment,” he said with a smile.

“Right,” Kurt said in a nervous voice. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled with the music on it. “Yes, I have instrumentals of showtunes on my phone, don't you dare judge me,” he said without even glancing at Blaine.

His friend just gave him a laugh. “Want me to take a video of it?” he asked, taking the small camera he have used that morning already out of his pocket.

“Oh, Rachel will die of envy,” Kurt said with a nod. He took a moment to scroll down his playlist until he found the perfect song – he was on Wicked's stage, and there was one song he had been singing in his mind often recently.

He switched the volume to maximum, it was still too low to be heard in the whole theater, maybe it barely reached Blaine in the first row, but it was reechoing enough for Kurt to get his clue.

The first notes played through the speaker and Kurt took one last breath before closing his eyes and starting singing.

“Hands touch, eyes meet, sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy whirl, he could be that boy, but Im not that boy.”

He opened his eyes to peek at Blaine, to see how he had reacted to the change in the lyrics and a grin spread through his lips noticing his friend's wide eyes.

“Don't dream too far, don't lose sight of who you are, don't remember that rush of joy,” he continued singing, immersing himself in the song and easily switching the gender in the lyrics.

The last notes played and eventually silence fell upon them. Kurt blinked and realized a single tear had fell down his cheek and he quickly made a motion of wiping it away.

“How was it?” he asked as he kneeled down to pick up his phone and pocketed it back.

Blaine remained seated in his seat, his eyes looking at something in front of him.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked again, stepping in front of him.

“Huh?” Blaine shook his head, looking up at Kurt as he has just woken up from a dream.

“How was I?” Kurt repeated his question.

“You,” Blaine blinked his eyes before focusing them on Kurt. “You were breathtaking,” he said with a smile.

Kurt grinned and clapped his hands excited. “Really? Oh God, you'll have to send me that video. I can't wait to show it to Rachel and Mercedes!”

* * *

They lost

They stuck with a similar set list that had worked for Regionals. Following the theme ‘Dreams', they'd picked a group mash-up of ‘Sweet Drams' by Eurythmics versus the one by Beyoncé, adding ‘Don't Dream It's Over' as their final number.

Kurt personally thought they had done a great job, but according to the judges it wasn't enough. Kurt could see their reasoning – you couldn't really win the national title of a dancing and singing competition by simply swinging left and right.

He went to bed upset, bringing down Blaine's offer to go for a night walk after the winners were announced, claiming lack of sleep as his excuse. It still didn't really help seeing that at the end he fell asleep at 2am.

Which is why he was really contemplating killing Blaine for waking him up at 5 in the morning.

“Come on, it's our last morning in New York, we are flying back in the afternoon,” Blaine had reasoned as Kurt was dragged out of the hotel.

“I object,” Kurt grunted as he followed his friend down the street. “The sun is barely up, it's not morning yet. Are we sure it's safe to be out this early?” he asked concerned, looking around them.

“We're not going too far, just the park across the street,” Blaine explained, grasping Kurt's hand and entwining their fingers together before the two of them crossed the road.

Kurt was ready to complain some more, but the realization that he was actually walking hand in hand with Blaine down a New York street promptly shut him up. So he just squeezed Blaine's fingers back and followed him, enjoying their closeness in the loud silence of the morning.

Blaine paid for two coffees from a street vendor and then continued leading down the park until they reached the middle of a small bridge.

“This is nice,” Kurt commented as he looked around the park. The sun was slowly raising and changing the colors of the sky. By the time it would set for the day, Kurt thought, he would be back in Lima.

“You know,” Kurt started. “Even if we lost Nationals, I had fun,” he admitted.

“Really?” Blaine asked.

“Mhm,” Kurt nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. “I flew on a plane for the first time, I saw New York City, I sang at the Gershwin theater. So what if we lost Nationals, I still have one more year,” he reasoned. A thought then crossed his mind. “I think I'll be going back to Lima next year,” he admitted in a low voice.

Blaine bumped his shoulder. “It took you a while to realize it,” he said amused.

Kurt shrugged but still gave his friend a smile. “I guess there are things you know all along, you just need time to figure them out.”

“About that,” Blaine's voice suddenly dropped and his tone got more serious. “I have something to tell you.”

Kurt looked curiously at his friend - that was an odd behavior coming from Blaine. But so was waking up at 5 in the morning to take a walk down a park.

Blaine put his cup down on the balustrade and turned his body so he was standing in front of Kurt.

"There are moments, in life, that you take for granted. Like sunrises. You just know they are beautiful, because everyone says so, and because the pictures you see are proof. But then one day, you wake up earlier than usual, and youre awake to see the sun rising and… it just takes your breath away. Because seeing the sky come to life and the colors changing as time passes is a more breathtaking experience than one photo could lock in a frame,” Blaine stopped to take a breath and his eyes fell down between them. His hands suddenly moved and he took Kurt's right hand in his hand and if Kurt thought he was dreaming those words until that moment, he now knew that everything was real because Blaine's hand was warm and trembling as much as his own.

Kurt's eyes were glued to Blaine and he saw the other boy gulping before looking back up at him.

“Listening to you sing at the Gershwin theater yesterday was… it was like waking up on a dark morning and watching the sun rise for the first time."

Blaine took a small step forward and Kurt met him halfway. If ten minutes earlier he thought that walking hand in hand in New York with Blaine had been the best thing about the trip, the kiss they now shared had just stolen first place.

Blaine's hand was stroking his cheek and Kurt was tightly gripping Blaine's hair, still too afraid he was imagining everything, even if Blaine's lips, oh Blaine's lips, were certainly feeling way too real against his.

But the kiss eventually slowed down and their lips parted as the two boys panted against each other, their foreheads pressed together and their hands still entwined.

“I think we should enjoy these last moments in New York,” Blaine eventually gasped sheepishly.

Kurt closed his eyes and grinned. “I thought we were.”