“Mr. Shue?” Quinn looked up from her cell phone at the sound of Blaine’s voice, only to find her teacher just ambling into the room late yet again.

She tucked her phone into her purse next to her, folding her hands in her lap. Mr. Schue looked around wildly before settling on Blaine seated in the farthest chair on the highest riser.

Quinn felt Kurt shift beside her, tucking himself further against Mercedes’ shoulder. It had only been two weeks since the perfect couple, who everyone had placed on a pedestal, had broken up. It hadn’t been messy. It hadn’t even involved a lot of catty screaming, or snide remarks. Honestly, the two boys had been remarkably polite and cordial with each other.

It had been mutual, apparently, at least according to Mercedes who seemed honestly baffled by the sudden turnabout. One day, on the Tuesday just after Nationals, they had simply separated during a glee club meeting. Blaine had turned left and sat with Mike, Sam and Puck, and Kurt turned right to Mercedes and Rachel. Quiet and withdrawn, Blaine hadn’t even looked up as Kurt explained shortly that they were broken up—mutually, of course, and neither of them was to blame.

It had been awkward as hell, Quinn thought. The club had been baffled, staring open-mouthed at either Blaine or Kurt. The shock had kind of just melted into awkward silence and the rest of the meeting had mostly been spent trying to wrap their heads around the break up. They had seemed fine the day before, all doe-eyed and sweet smiles, and Finn even said that there hadn’t been any fighting that night either. Rachel had attempted to talk to Kurt, but he had cast one lasting, wistful look at Blaine’s retreating backside before turning in the opposite direction and ignoring Rachel.

Quinn had a niggling feeling that she knew what was going to happen. Both boys had been struggling the entire week to not stare at each other. Blaine had just about exploded when one of the smaller, attractive freshman boys had accidentally pushed Kurt in the cafeteria. The entire club had witnessed enough drama to know what was bound to happen.

And even now, as Quinn turned in her seat to see around Joe’s head of dreadlocks to look at Blaine, she couldn’t help but see how much of a toll it had taken on him. Blaine seemed oddly nervous, and pale. His eyes enormously wide as he spoke, “I really want to sing something if that’s okay.” For the last week, he had been reclusive, absolutely avoiding glee club and barely speaking in his classes. It made sense now. “I know we’re just having fun now,” He tugged on the buttons of his collar and his eyes flickered to Kurt, “But I really need to get something off of my chest.”

“Of course, go ahead, Blaine.” Mr. Shue smiled at him, and placed his briefcase on a stool, taking the empty chair next to Tina. Kurt stiffened beside Quinn, and Mercedes put a hand to his back, rubbing softly and whispering in his ear.

Blaine got to the center of the room, waving off the band
and Brad, gesturing instead for Puck to come and join him. Poorly stifling a smile, Puck grabbed his well-worn acoustic from the side—that Quinn hadn’t even noticed it was there—and settled it against his chest, sitting on the stool, waiting.

He stood quiet for almost a full minute before taking a deep breath and looking up, almost directing at Kurt, who only just met his eyes before looking away. “I know that you said we were done, but I don’t really believe it,” His voice shook a little at the end, his hand trembling a little at his side. “I’ve never been good with doing what I’m supposed to do. And I can’t let you get away from me. I know,” He cleared his throat, blinking hard and looked up at the windows. “I know that I love you, Kurt, and nothing’s going to change that.” His gaze flickered, almost against his will to look at Kurt once again.

It was so personal that Quinn almost felt like she was interrupting something by merely existing. She knew that look on Blaine’s face that sweet adoration that seemed to ooze from him and could have found it many times on Kurt’s when they shared a private moment. Her father had looked at her mom like that, once upon a time.

Beside her, Kurt breathed out shakily. He did sit a little taller as Blaine continued, “I’m miserable without you, Kurt. I miss you so much already. It’s only been eight days, you’re still in Lima,” His voice dropped, “And I can barely take it.” He nodded once at Puck and he began to strum a familiar melody that sent a smile to Quinn’s face.

“So here it is, Kurt,” A small, shy smile appeared on Blaine’s face, “I‘m not good with words, I’ve never been, but I’m good at serenading you and I want you to listen. If you decide that you want a fresh start in New York, then I’m okay and we’ll be friends.” His eyes were suspiciously glassy, “And if not, then I’m here for you and I always will be. We can decide what to do when I finish.” He waited a pulse, gathering his breath and closed his eyes, a sweet smile appearing on his face.

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?
I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

From the moment that Blaine had first seen Kurt, that faithful day on the staircase, he had fallen in love—even if he hadn’t known it yet. He had taken that poor terrified boy under wing, and had watched him blossom despite the primness of Dalton. Kurt brightened his day with a single smile. All it had taken for him to finally realize how deeply he felt for this boy, was a dead canary and a song.

Through all of the rough times, and there had been a fair few on his part and few on Kurt’s shoulders, Kurt hadn’t given up on him, hadn’t dumped his sorry ass when he had been particularly oblivious. He hadn’t brushed off his crush to see that there were many more attractive, smarter and perceptive boys that would have trampled over each other to have him.

Kurt had waited, waited for him to finally grasp that wonderful, amazing Kurt wanted him. And that just maybe, in the midst of homophobic Ohio, they could find each other.

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

Kurt was fast asleep on his bed, his hand curled into the comforter, his mouth gaping open with the tiniest bit of drool leaking out of the side. It had been a long week. Karofsky’s attempt was fresh in their minds, Quinn’s accident and hospitalization were still not quite tidied up, and their latest fight (about God and empathy and a lot more that lay underneath their words) had been particularly hard.

But they were trying. Blaine knew that Kurt’s scathing remarks about a lack of empathy were attempts to deflect his own guilt. Kurt knew that Blaine’s icy, cryptic words were merely a mean to express his frustration and hurt that Kurt hadn’t come to him for comfort. Of course, their troubles didn’t boil down to quite that simple. Blaine never quite got around to tell Kurt how familiar he was with Karofsky’s situation, and Kurt never did voice how much it meant that Karofsky didn’t become just another statistic.

They had apologized and forgiven each other for being testy and scared, putting aside their deeper issues for a time when they were both more emotionally stable. When Kurt had pulled out his copy of Julius Caesar, collapsing on his belly onto Blaine’s bed, Blaine had let him read with a smile, knowing that he was going to crash within minutes. In the silence, punctuated by soft baby snores, he had tenderly pressed his fingers to Kurt’s sleep-mussed hair, and slid his fingers through the strands. Kurt hadn’t complained—to his surprise—and had actually leaned into the touch, curling up tighter, even moving in his sleep to pillow his head on Blaine’s thigh.

Then, when Kurt had sleepily blinked his eyes open, smiling peacefully at Blaine, and patted the bed for Blaine to come join him for a quick nap, Blaine had fallen just a little bit more in love.

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend

For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am

On that warm April afternoon, when he had been left stunned by his parents’ reception at a family dinner, Kurt had been the one to find him. He had run when it had gotten so unbearably painful and awkward and hadn’t even thought to grab his jacket or find his phone. Kurt had appeared in the shade of his old tree house looking like an angel against the rain-washed landscape of a thunderstorm.

He hadn’t been able to deny or ease Kurt’s worry when he had taken a seat beside him. When he opened his mouth, a stream of nonsense about his dad and Cooper had filtered instead, and Kurt had folded him up in his arms and held him while he cried. It had taken time for him to finally be coherent and once he was settled on the Hummel-Hudson’s couch with a mug of tea and Kurt wrapped around him, he had been able to explain.

He didn’t tell him everything, but Kurt had always been perceptive and Blaine knew that he wore his emotions on his face. He didn’t tell Kurt that his father hated him, or that his mother had kissed his cheek and then avoided eye contact the entire meal. Or that Cooper had looked so damn uncomfortable the entire meal as his father praised his life choices and tore Blaine apart with the same intensity.

Within a half an hour of being in his parents’ scrutiny, he had feigned a stomachache (not that it was really hard to pretend with the way his stomach twisted into knots at every word) and ran from the house. Cooper Anderson was the perfect child, he explained. Cooper was handsome, straight and going places. He played college football. He was going to be a lawyer. Cooper was going to marry a beautiful girl and have beautiful children.

Blaine was none of those and wasn’t going to do any of that.

Even as the doorbell rang, and Cooper appeared in the living room, looking bedraggled and wet, Blaine clung to Kurt. Apologetic and angry, his older brother begged for his forgiveness, to fix what their parents had broken. Blaine did try to listen, but it was still too raw for him to adequately listen to Cooper apologize for their parents yet again. Instead, he leaned back, burying his face in Kurt’s sweater, smelling that scent that was so innately Kurt and home and love, and waited.

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up

It wasn’t so hard to picture them in a little apartment in Brooklyn in the future: cuddling on the couch on cold winter nights, walking hand in hand down Fifth Avenue at Christmas time, or tiptoeing out the door when the other didn’t have an early class. Yes, it was presumptive, but he believed with his whole heart that he and Kurt were forever.

Maybe he wasn’t giving Kurt enough of a chance to spread his wings and truly enjoy the freedom New York would give him. There were so many opportunities in the city for Kurt to find someone that would love him unconditionally. More than anything, he wanted Kurt to be happy.

In the classroom, Blaine sang only to Kurt, watching him with aching hazel eyes. Kurt didn’t look happy. Blaine didn’t think he felt happy. Blaine had agreed that night at Kurt’s house. His heart had broken, but he didn’t think Kurt believed his own words. They didn’t want to ruin what they had, but what was a relationship if neither changed nor compromised? Neither of them wanted to be apart. Would it really be that hard to make it work? Yes, there would be problems, and there would be fights, but they could do it. Both, Kurt and Blaine, had fought through more problems than needed in their young lives. They deserved some happiness, right?

And they were both so miserable right now. He could hardly take watching Kurt as he sang. Kurt had lasted until the second verse until he began to cry in earnest, tears streaking his face. Blaine had held on a touch longer, voice only cracking as he reached the second chorus. The girls, all listening with watery smiles, began to echo, true to the song.

I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

Kurt was his first love. His first kiss. His first time. He loved him with his whole heart. Maybe he was just a young, na�ve teenager, but he really could picture himself kissing Kurt after his Broadway premiere, or picking their children up from daycare, or laying next to him in bed, reading new scripts.

As they had practiced, Puck stopped playing at the end of the chorus, and let Blaine sing on. Blaine stepped forward, holding out his hand, eyes wide and pleading. Kurt answered with a shaky smile and gracefully and interlaced their fingers together, pulling Blaine into a crouch in front of him. They pressed themselves close, as Blaine sang only to him.

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

As he ended, two large tears finally fell from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. Kurt laughed wetly, and caught them with his fingers, brushing them away. He cupped his cheeks with his hand, softly caressing his damp cheek, and brought him closer for a chaste kiss. “I think we tried too hard to be mature.”

Blaine choked out a laugh, and kissed him again, needy and pained. “I really want you to be happy, Kurt.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you,” Kurt whispered, tugging Blaine into a tight hug. “I love you so much. That was such a stupid mistake to think that breaking up would be better for us.” Pressed together, as close as they had been that day in November, or that heartbreaking day in April, Kurt reveled in the pure, familiar scent of Blaine. They would have troubles, there would be fights, but they would figure it out together.

Pulling away, with a gentle kiss to his forehead, he smiled at his boyfriend. “I’ve told you before, Blaine,” Kurt whispered his face close to Blaine’s. “I’m never saying goodbye to you.”