Kurt hears the knock at the door while he’s watching reruns of Project Runway.

Blaine always hated this show, complained every time it was on, reviled it in front of their friends.

Kurt wonders if someone else might rejoice finally getting to watch a show they like instead of wishing the other person was still with them to complain about it two weeks after they met their unceremonious end.

He thinks about not even bothering to get up and check the door, but if someone came by to see Rachel and he didn’t tell her, he’d never hear the end of it. So, he gets out of his perch in the corner of the couch, leaving the cushion still shaped like the curve of his ass from hours upon hours of use, and looks through the peephole.

His ex-boyfriend is on the other side of the door.

He wonders if someone else might take measures to make sure they don’t converse with people who dumped them. He’s never had experience in such a thing before. But for him, opening the door for Blaine isn’t even a question. Just the sight of his face in the peephole has caused his heart to throb painfully against his ribs.

He opens the door and as he comes into view, Blaine huffs out a breath, halfway between a sigh and a sob, his eyes roving over Kurt’s face like he hasn’t seen him in years. “Kurt.”

Seeing Blaine in his entirety is baffling. “Why—what—You’re unkempt.”

It’s not the word Kurt expected to come out, but it’s true, nevertheless. His ungelled hair is sticking up in every direction and he’s wearing an old Dalton hoodie, the one that Kurt stole with the hole in the sleeve where Blaine puts his thumb. Kurt hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, maybe never. He’s not put together and dapper and maybe the deepest part of Blaine that Kurt has known since the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza is seeping out into his appearance.

“I—yeah.”

“Sorry, I just... How did you get here?”

“Took a train. Lots of trains. And a bus. And the subway.” He’s looking down at his feet now, as if studying the grain of the carpet.

“It’s noon; what time did you leave Lima?” He’s asking every question but the one he wants the answer to.

“Four.”

“Why?”

And there it is, finally addressing the quandary that seems apparent. Blaine broke up with him two weeks ago, told him that he thought it would be better for everyone if they weren’t together anymore. It sounded to Kurt like the most polite way of saying I’ve fallen out of love with you. Why would Blaine come back here if he didn’t love him anymore?

“I—” he pauses for a long moment before he says, “Every time I tell a joke, I still look around to see if you think it’s funny.”

Kurt wonders if someone else might be hooked on this line, falling through and believing that there wouldn’t be another person to fill the gap of approval in Blaine’s life.

“Okay, Blaine, we were together for—”

“I know you’re here, and I know I broke up with you, and I know I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to you like this and tell you I miss you, but I just—” His eyes fill with tears and he’s looking at the wall to his right now. “—can’t do this without you. I can’t get through losing you without you.” One of the tears spills over onto his cheek. “You’re my best friend.”

“Blaine.” Since Kurt has met him, Blaine has never cried in front of him. He’s been hurt, sure. His eyes have filled, he’s teared up in frustration more than once, but he’s never cried, never just opened up and lost it. He’s never let himself be vulnerable like this, not even in front of Kurt.

“I know that’s not how break-ups work, and I can’t just make everything okay again by saying I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore. I love you. I love being with you even when I don’t like you, and I can’t imagine not being with you.”

“Blaine, I don’t understand.”

At that, Blaine begins sobbing in his doorway—shoulders quaking, breath hitching, and eyes streaming in the entrance of the hatbox he shares with Rachel. He can’t believe it, refuses to accept the fact that Blaine still cares about him and is here in New York just to tell him that he wants him back. It’s not that he hasn’t wondered, hasn’t thought that Blaine still loves him, but he can’t let himself get hurt like this. Blaine could easily find someone else to love him just as much as he does.

“I can’t be without you. You’re the only person I can count on to love me.”

A lump grows unbearably in Kurt’s throat. He just can’t understand. “Then why did you break up with me? Why did you tell me that that the distance wasn’t good for us? Why did you stand there in that goddamn park in the cold and tell me it was better if we weren’t together?”

Blaine still won’t look at him, is still staring at anything but him. “Because I thought you would be happier without me.”

Kurt just stares. “That’s the most stupid thing you’ve ever said.”

Blaine laughs bitterly. “Tell me about it.”

“I’m sitting here in New York, the city I’ve dreamed of since I was six, inside, watching Project Runway and praying that this is a dream and I’ll suddenly hear you nagging me to turn it off. I am working at Vogue and I still wish I was in Ohio with you, getting side-eyed by old ladies and people in the Lima Bean just so I can see you when I get off my shift. I want to be with you so badly that I can’t even breathe and you think that I’m happier? I’m not better off; I’m miserable.”

Blaine continues to cry, eyes back on his shoes. “That’s the last thing I wanted.”

“God, don’t you know better? You’re the love of my life, Blaine. I’m never saying goodbye to you, don’t you get that?”

Blaine shakes his head, his breath still hitching in nearly silent sobs. Kurt looks at him and sees the kicked puppy that everyone has made him into, sees that Blaine truly doesn’t get that Kurt won’t abandon him or think less of him when he fucks up.

“Why can’t you get that I’m not like your parents or your brother or the Warblers or anyone else and I’m not going to toss you aside for something better?” When Blaine doesn’t answer, Kurt says, “Don’t you ever think you get to decide if you’re good for me, Blaine Anderson. There’s nothing better for me than being yours. You don’t have to cut ties with me to save yourself or to save me, because I’m not going to be saved by not being with you.”

Blaine doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look up, doesn’t even move.

“Why don’t you understand?”

Blaine moves his shoulders minutely in what Kurt thinks must be a shrug. His mouth is set in a heavy line, and he’s blinking rapidly.

“Why won’t you look at me? How do you expect to see me, to see that I really can’t help but love you and want to keep your heart safe? �How can you see that if you won’t even look at me?”

His face jolts up first, eyes still downcast, like he’s afraid. Then, like they’re being dragged, his eyes shift up to look and Kurt steps back into the apartment, raising his arms in invitation.

Blaine dives in, arms wrapping around Kurt’s torso, jamming his face into his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m sorry, I am so sorry."

“Shhh, we can talk about it later,” Kurt reassures, squeezing Blaine until his arms ache.

“You shouldn’t want to talk to me. You shouldn’t even want to look at me. Why didn’t you just send me home?”

Kurt thinks for a long time, trying to think of how to tell Blaine that every moment Blaine was gone was a moment Kurt was thinking about being with him, that even New York wasn’t worth being without him.

He wonders if someone else might have sent Blaine home. For a minute, he thinks that maybe someone else might have never given Blaine another chance, might have turned him away or never opened the door, might have taken his heartbreaking apology and startlingly honest tears as a personal insult. �Someone else could have had the audacity to deny him the opportunity to prove that he wants this, wants someone to share a home with him.

And there with Blaine in his arms and his boyfriend’s adorably frizzy curls tucked up under his chin, Kurt’s never been more happy that he’s not someone else.

“Because when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”