I called you up; you were in bed,

Blaine blinked at his alarm clock, the numbers blurring together into one mass of glowing red. He scrubbed at his eyes -hands coming away damp- but eventually gave up, only able to determine that there were four digits in it, indicating it was late, late at night, and Kurt still hadn’t called. Hopefully he had forgotten; although, Blaine doubted he would.

As if on cue, his phone began to buzz on the pillow next to him, a few staticy bars of “Blackbird” working their way through its tiny speakers before Blaine picked up. “Hey!” he choked out as he pressed the phone to his ears, trying to sound eager to talk to his boyfriend and rid his voice of shakiness threatening to overcome him. Naturally, Kurt picked up on his distress with merely one word, despite his valiant efforts to keep it hidden.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, skipping the hellos, and he could practically hear the question mark in his voice. Blaine couldn’t help but smile a bit at the thought of his beautiful little head, love leaking into his brain, but the grin quickly disappeared when his previous thoughts crashed down on him. He rubbed the exhaustion away from his face and patted his hair down as he sat up, worried about frizz popping out of its hold after lying down.

“Yeah, of course, I’m fine,” he answered, grimacing at the both the blatant lie and how wet his voice sounded. He swiped at a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks, and reached over to his right to flick on his bedside lamp, the teal wainscoting practically jumping out at him as the room lit up.

Silence seemed to echo on the other side of the line. “… Have you been crying?” Kurt questioned after what felt like an eternity, speaking slowly and sounding a bit unsure. A million little red flags went up in Blaine’s head, all screaming “PANIC!” He bit his lower lip, but couldn’t seem to find an answer to the question. He let out a tiny sob.

Could barely make out the words that you said

Apparently, he searched his brain too long because Kurt’s worried voice rang out over the line again. “Blaine, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” Blaine tried to talk, he really did, but no words would come out. He just laid in his bed, floundering like a fish and struggling to say anything, anything. “You have to answer me, hon. What’s going on?”

“-Kurt,” he eventually forced out, and it suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room, making him gasp for breath. He knew he was probably freaking the other boy out, but he couldn’t even move, he was so upset. Blaine held the phone impossibly close to his ear, it making an unhappy cracking noise as he pressed it against his face harder and harder and harder…

“What’s wrong? Blaine, are you hurt?” Kurt asked, obviously terrified. Well, that made two of them. “Where are you?” he questioned when he didn’t get an answer, and Blaine could hear drawers slamming open and closed as Kurt presumably got dressed in something suitable to come get him. He struggled for enough air to respond to him.

But you wanted to see me instead, so I got dressed.

“’Mm at home,” he gurgled, feeling a bit strangled by his own words. “Kurt…” he said desperately, sounding weak and pathetic even to himself. Ugh, what was wrong with him? It hadn’t been this bad just a couple minutes ago…

“Yeah?” the leaner boy responded, his voice softer but the worry he was feeling for him was still obviously there.

“C’n you c’me over?” he slurred, and rolled over to burry his face in his pillow, completely embarrassed. He sounded so… traumatized. He wasn’t traumatized; he was just… worked up. And it was okay to be worked up sometimes, just as long as people didn’t have to know about it. Unfortunately, Kurt did find out about it, and now he was coming over, and he probably looked a mess, and his room wasn’t presentable, and Blaine still wasn’t sure if there was oxygen in his room or if it had all been flushed out, and, crap, why wasn’t Kurt saying anything?

And I stepped out into the snow,

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way,” he assured him, and once again, Blaine heard drawers being opened and unopened on the other side of the line as Kurt presumably switched out of his PJs and into real pants. He couldn’t help but look down at the plaid, wrinkled pajama bottoms he had been living in since he got home. Ugh, not so dapper. His heart fell into the pit in his stomach.

He heard the faint jingle of keys and the hard closing of the Hummel’s front door, and Blaine immediately felt guilty. Kurt shouldn’t be out and about, the roads were icy and it was freezing outside. Plus, it was late and dark and they had school tomorrow. He rubbed his nose off on his sleeve. “’Mm sorry,” Blaine apologized, feeling terrible.

“For what?” Kurt asked, and Blaine knew the other boy well enough to know he was trying to put on a more cheery air for him. He could tell he was worried. Blaine hated when people worried about him, especially Kurt, who already had too much going on. His stomach twisted, and he didn’t know how to tell him, how to explain why he felt so terrible and guilty. Kurt should blame him for so much more than he did…

“Cause-cause…” Seriously? Why didn’t he know what to say? Kurt was supposed to be easy to talk to; he was easy to talk to, so why was he tongue-tied? Kurt hummed a bit to goad him on, and Blaine hated the idea of him hunched over the wheel of his Navigator, trying to calm him down despite being panicked himself. And, yes, Blaine knew he was panicked. He could feel it; he could hear it. He would hate himself if he didn’t, but a weird nauseous feeling came with knowing. He tried to get enough air in to answer, “Cause you’re busy,” he said quickly. Kurt laughed, a little anxiously, but he laughed.

And walked for a mile or so,

“Blaine, believe me, I do not mind dropping anything for you… no matter what the activity,” he guaranteed him sincerely, a tiny smile audible between the words. Of course, that only made Blaine feel a million times worse. His stomach seemed to be practicing acrobats as tears still, unfortunately, raced down his cheeks. Crying was never this hard before… And shoot, where did all the air go? He couldn’t breathe, holy crap, he couldn’t breathe.

“W-where ‘re you?” he stammered, trying to sound as sober as he could, but his own body seemed to be against him. He needed Kurt. He needed Kurt right now. He needed anyone right now. His chest felt tight, and his head hurt like a lot of things that his mother would have a conniption over hearing him saying. “I-I n-ne-nee-,” he tried. I need you, I need you, I need you.

“Ssssh. Calm down, you’re okay. I’m only a bit far, now,” Kurt told him, sounding a bit more relaxed than earlier… or, at least not as shocked. It was like he was settling into the situation a bit more, which was in itself a good thing, but Blaine didn’t like the situation. He didn’t want Kurt to have to get used to this kind of thing. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be the one Kurt came to for comfort, not to comfort. It was humiliating, and he was just so… just so…

Stupid.

He was stupid to think that he and Kurt could last, he was stupid to fall in love with him, he was stupid to get together with him in the first place because he was perfect, and eventually he’d realize that, and he’d break up with him, and he just kept letting him get closer and closer because he was amazing, and wonderful, and nice, and kind, and perfect, but eventually he would leave because they all leave, and he’d be alone, and sad, and stupid, just stupid- Blaine, of course, then remembered that he should probably try for another breath of air, but couldn’t seem to suck any in.

He needed Kurt. He needed Kurt more than he could say, more than he could even think about. It was overwhelming, and that’s what got him off on this little crying tangent of his in the first place. He loved him. He loved him so much it was upsetting. Blaine needed Kurt. It was the scariest thing in the world because, even if he didn’t know it, Kurt didn’t need him. He was strong. He was brave. Blaine was…

Stupid.

Felt the rush of blood come from the cold in my chest.

“Gah,” Kurt gasped a little, a couple small thunks of a car door opening muffled in the background before it. “Baby, it’s cold outside,” he told him with a slight tease in his tone due to the familiar words. Blaine could just melt into that. His voice was melodic, even when he wasn’t singing, and it… it wasn’t fair. Because how was Blaine not supposed to fall for him? He was perfect and beyond out of his league, and he couldn’t take it.

“K’rt?” he tried again, the word coming out more like a hiccup than anything else. “I n-n-nee-“

“Shhhh,” he shushed him, his caring nature practically visible between the lines. “Don’t worry, hon. I’m right outside. Come to the door.” Blaine nodded, swallowing hard, and dragged himself out of bed. He stumbled quickly down the stairs, face damp and hot. He smoothed his hair down before opening the door, knowing it probably looked like a mess. He dragged it into place, his fingers raking through naked curls and ones stiff and hard from gel. Yup, definitely a mess. Curly hair could be beyond impossible.

Well, you finally came to the door,

He opened the door, rubbing his eyes, and there was this terrifying moment where he was looking into Kurt’s eyes and he could see everything the older boy was holding back for his benefit. It tore him apart. Fortunately, it only lasted for a second before relief washed over his face as he pulled him into a hug. Blaine buried his nose into that little part of Kurt’s collarbone, the one made for simple kisses and brushes of fingertips, his tears suddenly gaining voice.

A loud sob erupted from his mouth, and more quickly followed before he could even comprehend what was happening. At this point, Blaine was weeping openly, his chest feeling tight and Kurt’s arms strong around him. He smelled good. Ever since Blaine figured out his sexuality, he dreamed of his boyfriend smelling just like this. He didn’t really acknowledge it in any of his fantasies, but breathing Kurt in made it apparent that it couldn’t have been anything else.

“Kurt,” he heard someone say, but he wasn’t sure if it had been him or not. Blaine felt himself slipping more and more into the other boy’s embrace. “Kurt.” Gah, who kept saying that? “Kurt, Kurt, Kurt,” the voice begged again, but Blaine was positive he said it this time. The senior merely wrapped his arms tighter around him.

“What do you need?” he asked, voice very quiet but somehow also very strong. “I’m right here.” You, Blaine wanted to say. Oh gosh, did he want to say. The word caught in his throat, though, as he gagged on his own sobs. Crap. Boy crying was so unattractive… this was definitely not what Kurt needed to be seeing. This is not what he needed to let him see, especially because Kurt looked beautiful when he cried.

However, despite him continuously trying to break himself away or make Kurt leave, he just clung to him tighter. Why did he have to need him so much? Why couldn’t he be smarter, and better, and handsomer, and be okay on his own? It was only a matter of time before Kurt, wonderful and painfully out of his league Kurt, gave up on him.

And we talked for an hour or more,

Blaine was slightly aware of the creaking of his front door as Kurt closed it with his toe. Suddenly, they were sinking to the floor, Kurt’s back against the door and his face pressed into his chest, and Blaine realized he probably should have taken him up to his room. Oh, well. His legs felt like jelly, and he couldn’t find it in himself to move.

It was a weird thing to be hugging Kurt like this. It half brought him comfort because Kurt really couldn’t bring him anything else, and it half brought him pain because he could only bring him comfort. And he was leaving. His home was leaving, and Blaine could only find fear in that. What he wouldn’t give to be clever, or attractive, or funny, or… something, anything, else. He needed insurance; he needed to keep Kurt. He needed Kurt.

His shoulders were shaking so much it hurt. His body was tired, and he had never cried like this before. It was exhausting, soul wrenching weeping and probably terrifying Kurt. Lovely. Just what he needed… His nose was pressed close against the other boy’s shirt, and he could barely acknowledged the feel of fingers working their way through the hair he had worked so desperately to fix.

Until I asked if you would stay up ‘til four, you said, “That’s fine.”

He felt Kurt’s arms shift on his back. “It’s getting late,” he murmured into Blaine’s ear as his sobbing died down to something much more graceful and much less embarrassing. Blaine blinked his eyes slowly, completely exhausted from his little display. He weakened his hold on Kurt’s midsection, briefly wondering how long he had been crying for. He tilted his head up, chin resting on his boyfriend’s chest, and met his eyes.

“I think you mean that it’s getting ‘early’,” he corrected with a watery smile, and Kurt put on his “I’m offended but not really, and I love you” face and gave his arm a little smack. Blaine just smirked, settling into Kurt a little more. His throat hurt from crying, and his back hurt from sitting in such a weird position on the floor, and he was pretty sure one leg was asleep. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He just wanted to be closer to Kurt, to grab onto him and never let go.

“Are you okay to stay up a bit later and talk to me? Or do you want me to tuck you in?” Tuck me in, Blaine wanted to say. Tucked in by Kurt… yes. But he could hear Kurt’s heart beating underneath his ear, and he didn’t like how fast it was going. He was worried, and Blaine didn’t like that.

“I can stay up,” he answered, cheeks flushing at how his voice cracked. Ugh, why did he have to be so pathetic? Seriously? Tears were still slipping past his guard, and Kurt was thumbing them away in that loving way of his, and Blaine could feel himself falling. The world was fading away, and he tried to catch it, he really did, but he couldn’t help but tumble deeper in love with the perfect boy he was leaning against. Blaine knew he got dressed in a hurry, but Kurt still managed to look perfect. And his hair. Oh gosh, his hair… he loved that hair. He loved Kurt. Why did he have to love Kurt so much?

But you said, “There’s something I have to say,

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you,” Kurt told him, angling his head up to look him in the eyes with one hand against his cheek. Once again, Blaine was struck by their perfect blue. He was never going to get tired of that… They were so beautiful it actually hurt. Kurt was… amazing. He would always take his breath away. Meanwhile, he was just so… plain. So boring.

“Positive,” he answered weakly. Blaine could look in the mirror and say “maybe”. That’s what he was: a collection of maybes. Because maybe he could find someone comparable to Kurt he could end up with, and maybe he was attractive enough to stand by Kurt’s side for the time he had with him without looking like he didn’t belong, and maybe he had enough looks about him to stay with Kurt for just a little longer.

Of course, he couldn’t. Blaine knew he wasn’t good enough for anyone, let alone flawless Kurt. Cause Kurt pulled off gorgeous and sexy and cute all at the same time so, really, who could be good enough?

But I can’t because I’m just so afraid.”

“Okay,” the senior agreed with a nod, looking at him very seriously but also very openly, “What’s going on in that little head of yours?” he asked, and Blaine wasn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do with himself. How was he supposed to just answer that? I’m all upset because you’re going to leave me. See? This is why he didn’t want Kurt to know he was so worked up. Then they could have avoided this conversation completely.

Because it was one thing to know someone was going to leave you, and another to hear them admit it.

“I don’t know if I can…” he gulped, it suddenly becoming much more difficult to swallow than it used to be. “I don’t know if I can tell you,” he told him. Blaine was admittedly starting to sweat a little. Why couldn’t everything be happy and nice now, and he and Kurt could just snuggle like this for the rest of their lives? He loved cuddling with Kurt.

His boyfriend arched an eyebrow at him, his face too adorable to bear, and Blaine clenched his jaw. “Why not?” Kurt asked, and he could see a million things pass over his face, ranging from “It’s that bad?” to “I thought we were pretty good at this whole honesty thing at this point,” to “Come let me love you!” Right. Because that didn’t make things that much more difficult. He felt his stomach twist up into knots, and he was now desperately attempting to keep tears from flowing faster down his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” he answered quietly, and Kurt’s eyes impossibly softened. Blaine was a bit stunned by this. Here was the boy who told him literally everything, no matter how traumatic, and he was treating him with such… patience right now. Like he could wait forever. If the roles had been reversed, Blaine had no doubt that he wouldn’t understand why Kurt wouldn’t just come out with it. They were supposed to be closer than close, so why wouldn’t he just tell him already? Why couldn’t he just tell him already?

So I held you as you started to shake that night.

Blaine gritted his teeth, frustrated with both the situation and himself. He was getting upset again. Because, seriously? He couldn’t be open with Kurt, and why would he want someone who couldn’t be open? And he was going to end up alone with no one to grow old with because Kurt will finally move on to someone better than him, and he felt so untouchable and so unwantable because he was, and he was stupid, just stupid.

He pulled away from Kurt, turning a bit, sitting on his heel, and leaning towards him a bit. “Kurt… I’m so, so sorry. I wanna be good enough for you forever, but I feel like… I feel stuck. I don’t know how to get better, and I’m trying, I really am, but it doesn’t mean anything cause you’re just… you’re you, and I can’t be good enough for you, Kurt. I really, really can’t be good enough for you. I’m just… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you drive over here, I’m sorry for keeping you stay up, I’m sorry for not being good enough, and… I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said very quickly, the words coming out of him like air out of a balloon: high pitched, fast, and with no way to stop them.

Kurt looked shocked, and Blaine didn’t like it. The older boy reached out to him, but he merely flinched and kicked himself away, burying his face into his knees. Kurt crawled towards him a bit and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Blaine couldn’t help but smack it away. “Blaine-“

“No, Kurt,” he said, his voice sounding a bit to sharp even to him. “Don’t… Just… Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me.” Blaine could feel himself unraveling, and it made him sick to his stomach. He felt so dirty. Just vocalizing how he felt made it all so impacting, and scary, and… real. Why did it have to be so real? He couldn’t let Kurt touch him, to feel him, not when he wasn’t perfect, not when he wasn’t thin enough, or muscular enough, or good enough; he had to be good enough. He couldn’t be good enough. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, barely able to talk with such a massive weight on his chest. Wait, when had he started crying again? “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“Blaine, look at me,” Kurt instructed. He sounded sharp and fierce, but not in an intimidating way. Just… determined. “Look at me,” he repeated, but Blaine didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to let him see what a mess he was. “Blaine Anderson, you are going to look at me right this second, or I swear, I will stick you in the car and hand you over to my dad to let him handle you,” Kurt said, a slight waver to his words.

You slowly lifted your head from your hands,

Blaine struggled to bring his eyes to meet Kurts, moving impossibly slowly to do so. Kurt gave him a hard stare and brought his hands around his shoulders. Blaine could barely swallow. Why did Kurt have to be so beautiful? “Now listen to me,” he ordered, looking more sure of himself than he sounded. “I’m not going anywhere. What on earth has gotten into you?” His eyes were searching and round, like he was scared of Blaine’s answer, which just made him feel a trillion times worse.

You said, “I just don’t think that you’ll understand.

“I can’t tell-“

“No,” Kurt interrupted him. “No. None of that crap. You tell me what is wrong right now because I’m scared, Blaine. I’m scared. And you have to know that no matter what you say, I’m going to be here with you, but you can’t just let me hang in the air scared. I wanna be patient, but you’re scaring me,” he said, and Blaine didn’t know what to say.

Because he was scared, too.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Kurt was going to leave him. Cause friendly words didn’t make him see himself differently. No, Blaine knew far too well that compliments didn’t make things better, just bearable, and with Kurt? Bearable was too good to be true. He just… Kurt couldn’t stay. There was no way.

You’ll never look at me that way again, if you knew what I did.”

“Kurt… I need you,” he said after a pause, mind reeling and not sure what else to say. What else was there to say? Kurt made him want to shout it out loud. I need you, I need you, I need you. Blaine forced as much of his heart out as he could with the words, “I need you.” Kurt just smirked, his face perfect, his hair perfect, the way he was looking at him… perfect. Crap, Blaine couldn’t do this. Kurt would just laugh at him. How embarrassing would that be? How could someone as beautiful as Kurt not find him throwing a pity party over his ugliness hilarious?

Cause it was funny. It was so. Freaking. Funny. You don’t get more hysterical than his stupid, stupid life. Why did he have to be so dumb?

Kurt took a breath, his fingers managing to intertwine with his own. “I need you, too,” he said softly, and suddenly the house felt very quiet. Kurt was looking at him expectantly, and Blaine couldn’t find words. It was like everything in his brain wasn’t good enough or too degrading to voice. Why was he so stupid? Use your brain, use your brain, use your brain.

So your tears fell and melted the snow,

He must have zoned out because all of a sudden, Kurt’s arms were snaked around his waist and he was sitting in his lap, the senior’s chin resting on his shoulder as he held him close. How was it possible to feel so safe and so naked at the same time? His heart fluttered as Kurt dragged him closer, now effectively hidden in the corner of his foyer. This was torture. Why did the heart always want what it couldn’t have?

Kurt’s lips pressed into the nape of his neck, and Blaine felt chills. His breath tickled his hairline, and his body felt hot, like a furnace, up against his. It was maddening. He felt his fingers on his hips and his arms close around his torso. Kurt’s legs were lined up next to his, warmth radiating from them and cozy beneath his pajama pants. And Blaine could feel him. He could feel him breathing and being under him, and he felt like his head might explode from the crazy way his brain was throbbing. Why even was that? Kurt was great enough to give him headaches now, apparently? There’d be no reason to doubt it.

“Kurt,” he squeaked.

“Blaine,” Kurt soothed.

When he didn’t say anything else, Kurt continued to talk to him, voice quiet as a few sparse beams of sunlight filtered their way over the horizon. The benefits to being awake so early in the morning… Where had the time gone? “You can tell me about it,” he said honestly. “I’ll love you just like always. I can see it, Blaine. I have seen it. You’ve got… fear eating at you, and I think you need to let it out.” Kurt paused, mulling over what he was about to say. “I needed to let it out.” Blaine twisted his head to look at him.

You told me secrets nobody had known,

“I don’t deserve you, Kurt,” he said quietly, voice sounding sad and pathetic to his own ears, and he absolutely hated the way his boyfriend’s eyes softened at the words. Like he was empathetic. No. He wasn’t getting it. “Stop. I don’t deserve you,” he said a bit more forcefully, willing Kurt to understand. He had to understand. The other boy laced his fingers through his beyond reparable hair.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, a crestfallen look on his face that Blaine wanted to wipe right off. No. Kurt didn’t have to feel like that. Not around him, not anymore. He found his forearm and squeezed it, trying to get one of those perfect smiles he was always looking for. Kurt, however, was too focused on him to notice such a tiny display of affection. Blaine sighed.

“Cause it’s true…” he said, a tremor audible in his voice now and the syllables stuck in his throat. “Because you’re beautiful. Because I’m nothing compared to you. Because you’re more than me, and you’ll always be more than me. Because you sing like an angel, and you walk like the world is yours, and you’re stronger than you know. Because I’m not any of that. Because you don’t need me, but I need you. Because I’m-I’m-“ he gagged, “beneath you. Because I have triangle eyebrows, and I’m a hobbit, and I’m a faggo-“ Kurt smacked him on the side of the head.

“No. Not that word. Not out of your mouth, not ever, and especially not when it’s about you. You’re above that,” he told him, looking momentarily angry before his expression calmed a bit. “And why would you think that? Blaine, honey, you’re perfec-“

“No. Don’t use that word either,” Blaine told him, trying desperately not to throw up all over his shoes. This was too much. He felt tears stinging his eyes but refused to let them fall; he had done enough crying for one day. “Kurt. You don’t understand… I can’t talk about this with you. Cause the more we talk about it; the more you’ll… the more you’ll see me. Like… see me without all the roses and the puppy love, and Kurt… I can’t have that. I need to hold onto you for just a bit longer. Just… just let me have you for just a second longer.”

But I never loved you more even though now I knew what you did.

Kurt smiled a sad smile and linked both of their hands together, loving him in the best way he knew how: holding hands. “I can’t ‘not say it’. You are perfect. You’re wonderful, and beautiful, and stronger than you know. You’ve gone what I’ve gone through alone,” he gave his hands a squeeze. “I need you, too,” he told him with heavy conviction. “I need you, too.”

And oh my dear, I’ll wait for you.

“I’m staying. I’m here,” Kurt said.

And grace tonight will pull us through.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Kurt said.

Until the tears have left your eyes,

“Don’t cry. I’ve got you,” Kurt said.

Until the fears can sleep at night.

“Relax,” Kurt said.

Until the demons that you’re scared of disappear from sight

“You’re loved. No one can touch you,” Kurt said.

Until this guilt begins to crack,

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Kurt said.

And the weight falls from your back.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kurt said.

Oh my dear, I’ll keep you in my arms.

“Hold me?” Blaine asked.