It was a lazy afternoon.

The sun was steadily retreating behind the trees, the golden light that had previously flooded the dorm slowly surrendering to shadows. Outside the door, faint sounds of activity served as a reminder that they weren't quite alone: footfalls along the corridor, low hums of chatter, doors opening and closing almost systematically. But there was still a sense of quiet hanging in the air, like no-one had enough energy to exert right now, like there was some collective understanding that it was time to unwind and school work can wait. And neither party noticed how long they had been laying there, wrapped up in the bed sheets and each other; time passed like treacle falling from a jar, sickly-sweet and wonderfully slow, the air just a little too thick with heat but they didn't give it much mind.

Nose-to-nose and blankets slung comfortably haphazard, they were a carefully tangled mass of limbs: Kurt had one arm trapped against the bed under Blaine's neck, another resting easy over his shoulder, and Blaine had settled his hands at Kurt's waist, absently toying his cardigan between his fingers. It was a new kind of closeness, and it took a few minutes to adjust to the physicality – like they were running water over their hands and getting used to the change in temperature – but once they had, a peace nestled around them, a familiarity which they couldn't explain, and everything fell perfectly into place.

So it wasn't until a few moments after he spoke that Kurt registered the murmur of his boyfriend's voice breaking the near-silence, close enough that he could feel the motions of his lips.

“What colour are your eyes?”

Kurt blinked. “What?”

“Your eyes,” Blaine repeated, his gaze switching between them with calm, gentle concentration, as if he were turning the pages of a book. “They… Sometimes they look bluer, and then sometimes greyer, I…can never tell.”

A pause. “Sounds like you've been staring a lot,” Kurt teased, and the corners of his mouth tugged up when he saw the other boy flush.

“No. No, I…well… ” Blaine trailed off, his lips curling into a bashful smile as he wrapped them around words he couldn't bring himself to articulate. Kurt couldn't help the giggle that escaped him. It was sweet, this side of Blaine – a little bit more boyish, a little bit shyer, a little less put-together. And he was seeing it more, now that they were on their own, with the security, the promise, of mutual affection lacing the air. Now that they were together. Kurt's heart skipped at how official it sounded in his head: You're dating Blaine Anderson.

“You can't blame me,” the boy got out eventually, pulling Kurt off his train of thought once more. “They're beautiful, they're like…oceans. Oceans in your eyes.” Blaine smiled slightly wider at that, seemingly happy with his choice of words, although Kurt could still see the pink colouring his cheeks. Part of him took heed that he was probably mirroring his boyfriend's blush, now; in fact, he realised, and promptly turned redder, that might've contributed to Blaine's smile, too.

“Oceans?” The butterflies that seemed to permanently reside in his stomach around Blaine gave a lazy flap of their wings. Blaine nodded, and Kurt bit the inside of his lip, eyes soft and blinking slowly at his boyfriend, which just made Blaine fall deeper into their depths. “Aren't you charming?”

“I try.” Blaine grinned and moved one of his hands from Kurt's waist to run the backs of his fingers over his cheek before cupping it, tracing the last rays of sunlight as they dappled the boy's skin. Hesitating, he stayed like that for a few suspended seconds, before he gathered up the courage to lean over and press his lips to the corner of Kurt's mouth.

Kurt sighed happily, eyes sliding shut, and he kept them closed even as Blaine pulled back in order to linger in the light touch of his lips, in how it made his heart flutter. “Glasz.”

“What?”

Kurt brought a hand up to Blaine's at his cheek and laced together their fingers. “I have glasz eyes,” he murmured, taking a deep breath as he scooted closer and nuzzled their noses together. His eyes were still shut; a smile graced his face. “Blue, green, grey…All of them. They change colour.”

“Like a kaleidoscope?”

“Like a kaleidoscope.”

Blaine huffed out a laugh; Kurt felt the lift of his cheeks and was pretty sure he was grinning. “So I was nearly right?”

“Emphasis on nearly,” Kurt muttered, and peered through his lashes in time to see Blaine roll his eyes fondly. For a few moments, neither spoke, before the other boy drew in a deep breath. “I like this,” he piped up. “Being…close. I really like it.”

The words seemed to seep through Kurt's skin and wrap around his heart like a blanket. He nodded, spirits dancing up in the clouds and his smile stretching wider before turning into a grin. “Me too,” was his response, voice light and happy, his chest swimming with a warm fuzziness that he wished could be kept under his pillow for when Blaine wasn't around and he needed cheering up.

He still didn't really understand it. How someone else's arms, arms that aren't belonging to a relative, could make him feel so safe. But, he supposed, Blaine had always done that; he'd always made him feel safe, right from the day they'd met. He'd made him feel less alone, more included, like he wasn't the oddball after all. And now where he lay, with the weight of the boy's arms, and the heat of his body, and the spaces between his fingers that fit Kurt's perfectly... It felt like home.

On that thought, he fell back into their comfortable silence.