"Blaine - Blaine, what are you doing?"

His boyfriend is advancing towards him, brandishing a plain black Sharpie. The grin on his face is positively enormous, but the shine in his eyes is less mischievous and more tender. Kurt can't help but think that he chose the best person to fall in love with.

Still, he eyes him warily from his position on Blaine's bed. Sharpies can never be a good sign. He stiffens as Blaine flops down on the mattress, the springs creaking faintly. Kurt leans over and attempts to wrestle the marker out of Blaine's hands, but the younger boy is quick - he bats Kurt's hand away, making a comical 'shh'ing motion.

"Blaine, if that gets on my clothes, I swear to god..." Sharpie stains were painfully difficult to get rid of. Kurt would know - he's often come across one of Finn's clothes, ruined by a bright purple Sharpie mark across the collar or the edge of the sleeve. Kurt can't quite understand how Finn manages to get himself attacked by permanent markers, but he has a feeling it has something to do with the orphanage Rachel's been taking him to. Which leads him to smile, even as he bemoans the state of the shirt.

Blaine's eyes are on him, and his gaze is so, so soft - Kurt wishes for a split second that he could feel those eyes, just reach out and touch the affection that sparkles so brightly there. It would be as smooth as silk or as luxurious as velvet, he can't decide. And it's a silly thought, but Blaine Anderson makes him think silly things.

He folds his arms and stares pointedly at the marker. Blaine's shoulders shake as he laughs. "I'm not going to get it on your clothes, babe," he promises in a grave voice, the effect somewhat ruined by the smirk on his face. "I just had an idea."

Kurt can feel his eyebrows rising.

"Give me your hand," Blaine requests, and there's something new in his voice - it's almost like awe, but that's ridiculous. Kurt's not even dressed very fancily - for an afternoon at Blaine's house, dark jeans and a bright collared shirt sufficed. But Blaine still has a wonder-struck look on his face as Kurt extends his left hand, palm facing upwards. Blaine brings his own hand to rest against Kurt's, and Kurt thinks - that's them in one gesture. Trust. Simplicity. Love.

Blaine hands the Sharpie over to him, and Kurt's brow creases. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asks, accepting the marker anyway and twirling it in his free hand. Blaine smiles and turns the hand in Kurt's hand upwards, so that the palm is exposed.

"I want you to write your name here."

His eyes widen at the request. It's... well, it's odd. There's no denying that. And possibly unhealthy as well - the ink could seep into Blaine's skin, and who knows what sort of damage it could wreck. At the sound of Blaine's laughter, he realizes that he's already begun listing the problems with such an act.

"Kurt," Blaine speaks, and it's one word but it means so much. "Please." He looks shy, shifting around so that he is next to Kurt, shoulders pressing together. "It's just - I want you with me always." He drops a kiss on Kurt's cheek. "You don't have to do it, but for me? Please?"

Kurt's eyes soften, and he uncaps the marker. He sits back and crosses his legs, pulling Blaine's left hand into his lap and running his fingertips over the warm, trembling flesh. Blaine sighs.

Kurt bends over, careful not to elbow Blaine in the ribs, and draws the black marker across skin. His handwriting is not as tidy as it usually is - Blaine's palm is anything but flat, and he's inexplicably nervous - but it's legible. Kurt Hummel.

He's about to lean back, put the cap back on the marker and maybe toss it away, when Blaine's other hand is on his chin and he's being pulled into a fierce kiss. Kurt gasps into his boyfriend's mouth, dropping the Sharpie on the covers and winding his arms around Blaine's neck. The kiss ends quickly, but Kurt still feels like he's flying.

He picks up Blaine's hand, the one with his name across the palm - mine - and kisses his wrist gently. Blaine's breath catches in his throat, and when Kurt looks up to meet his gaze, he's almost blinded by the blaze of happiness there.

"Do it for me?" he asks softly. Blaine doesn't even hesitate, doesn't stop to ask why, doesn't argue about how Kurt's always so fussy about his skincare regime and this would just ruin it - he picks up the marker, scoots over to Kurt's other side, and draws Kurt's hand into his own lap.

And writes.

Carve your name into my palm
So that it will never leave my heart