There had been a surprise and a heartfelt reunion, a hug so close and so long that Blaine could feel Kurt’s breath ghosting across his cheek. There had been skating and a song, flirtatious and lovely, almost as if they were boyfriends again. There had been dinner with Burt at a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant, sharing dishes they could hardly pronounce and casting furtive glances across the table, what if and how about and perhaps…

There had been Burt’s “important meeting with campaign donors” that took him out of the apartment for hours, and there had been a long talk between Kurt and Blaine. There were explanations without excuses. There were wishes without promises. There was agreement without enthusiasm, the responsible thing to do, friends again and no expectations, just hopes, for next year in New York. And then there was Burt again at the door, and then Kurt in his own bed, and Burt in the one Rachel had vacated, and Blaine lying awake on the couch in the dark.

It was wonderful having Kurt back in his life, Blaine thought. The void when Kurt hadn’t been speaking to him had been truly unbearable. It was a relief, having his best friend again, having Kurt to talk to and laugh with and just simply relax around. It was the right thing to do, Blaine knew, mutually deciding not to try a long-distance relationship again but instead to wait until they were together in person and see if they wanted to date again. It meant setting Kurt free to date other guys if he wanted to, a thought that made Blaine’s heart clench with jealousy and hurt, but it was something he had no right to complain about, something he would have to find a way to accept. Blaine knew he wouldn’t date anyone else himself, it wasn’t even a question. Kurt was the only man he ever could want, he knew that now, too late.

Blaine sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Burt began snoring softly and Blaine counted the breaths like sheep, trying to lull himself to sleep. It was no use. He couldn’t sleep, knowing that Kurt was a few feet away and completely unreachable at the same time.

Behind the curtain, Kurt sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror. He believed every word of what he’d said to Blaine, believed that they were making the right decision by agreeing to be just friends for the time being. But he’d been sitting here for twenty minutes now, dressed for bed but unwilling to lie down, lost in his thoughts. He realized, all at once, that he didn’t want to go to bed alone.

A rustle at the curtain surrounding Kurt’s sleeping area caught Blaine’s attention, and he turned his head to look. It was Kurt, standing in the darkness, almost invisible in a black henley and yoga pants. Only his pale hands and face shone in the light filtering through the window. He looked like an apparition, and Blaine stared for a moment before he realized Kurt was beaconing to him with one hand. He stood and crossed the short distance to the curtain, unsure of what Kurt wanted.

The silence was like a spell and Kurt feared that if he spoke, their prior understanding would evaporate. He didn’t want to start all over again, didn’t want to renegotiate, he just wanted closeness. Silently, he pointed at the bed where the covers were turned down and gestured for Blaine to lie down. Blaine lifted the blanket and sheet, his hand shaking, and slid underneath to lie on his back. Kurt drew the curtain shut, then walked silently to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers himself, facing Blaine.

Blaine could hardly breathe, for the lump in his throat. The bed, the sheets, the entire sleeping area smelled like Kurt, was filled with things that reminded him of Kurt, was filled with Kurt. He was surrounded in a cocoon made of the very thing he’d been starving for. He whispered Kurt’s name, his voice breaking. Kurt raised his index finger to his own lips and shook his head, then curled his body around Blaine’s side and nuzzled his head between Blaine’s shoulder and neck.

It was heaven, Blaine thought. He had died somewhere and gone to heaven and this was heaven, he was in heaven with his arms around the love of his life, forgiven and redeemed and brought to dwell in the house of the Lord and spend eternity in a place of perfection and joy, and he didn’t understand how he could possibly deserve this bliss, and suddenly there were tears streaming down his face. He clenched one hand on the fabric of Kurt’s shirt and the other in his lovely hair and he sobbed, his chest heaving with the rush of sadness leaving him, and he felt Kurt’s body shaking too, trembling, and his shoulder was wet where Kurt’s face was pressed against it.

They held each other for a time that had no measure, for an eternity and for not nearly enough time at all, and their breathing slowed and the tears washed all the tension away and evaporated into peace and stillness and there was no reason to let go, so they didn’t.

Blaine wanted to speak, but Kurt had told him not to, so he didn’t say the words that were in his mind.

I can’t believe I almost lost this.

I will love you until the end of time.

You are perfect. You are my home.

Kurt had never really understood the concept of catharsis before this moment. He had walked through hell and come out the other side into the shining, glorious light. He was floating, flying, anchored to reality only by Blaine’s arms around him, those strong arms that always without fail made him feel safe and loved and tangible. He propped himself on one elbow and looked at Blaine’s face. His golden brown eyes were startling, red and puffy but a clear window into his soul, the love there as easy to read as if it were written in words. He wanted to speak, wanted so badly to tell Blaine what he felt, but if he spoke he would make this real and he wasn’t ready for it to be real, not quite yet, not for a few months yet.

You are my soulmate.

I will love you until the end of time.

Marry me.

Blaine winced at the sound of Kurt’s laughter, at first. He thought it must be a bitter laugh, that he’d done something wrong, ruined it all, destroyed once again what they’d just started to rebuild. But no, he listened and it was a joyous laughter, clear and beautiful and infectious, and Blaine began to laugh too, not knowing what he was laughing at but just giddy with the lightness of it.

They quieted slowly, with little hiccups and long breaths, with comforting pets of Blaine’s hair and reassuring rubs of Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt brought his head to rest tenderly on Blaine’s chest, and they fell soundly asleep, without a word.

When Blaine woke, he thought he was alone, and his heart stopped for a moment. He blinked his eyes open and there was Kurt, sitting cross-legged on the bed and watching him, a soft expression on his face. Blaine smiled shyly at him, unsure, gaining confidence again. Kurt pressed a finger to his lips, the hint of a mischievous smile sparkling in his eyes. He hopped off the bed and disappeared behind the curtain. Blaine rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and followed a moment later.

Kurt turned back to look at Blaine, the sleeping area safely out of view behind them. “Pancakes or waffles?”