The silent hallway with heated stares causes Kurt's innards to tremble, but not in the wonderful anticipation that had saturated him before their Nationals performance. This feels too much like his sophomore year all over again, the constant tension that made his muscles ache, the dry throat he knew no sound could possibly be uttered, and the onlookers who would do nothing to intervene.

Rick the Stick and his band of puckheads are stalking towards him and the rest of the New Directions, hands full of the telltale slushie cups. He contemplates momentarily hiding behind his tower of a stepbrother, but realizes that his clothes would probably be stained anyway, not to mention his pride and excitement dampened by the cold ice. His hands instinctively rise to cower above his head, body recoiling into itself as it instinctively prepares for the cold dread that will surely slink down his torso.

But it's confetti. Paper confetti.

And one of the guys is hugging him and pulling him close in the sort of bro-hug that Finn has made him used to.
His white shirt remains spotless, his perfectly styled hair still upon his head and not heavy with artificial syrup and frozen water. He felt Blaine flinch behind him, and can only imagine the terrifying flashes of the incident that might have dashed across his mind. He wants to turn around and comfort him, but the hockey guys are still celebrating around him, passing him around as they cheer loudly in his ears and congratulating him on the first place win.

He's finally released from the slightly awkward and unexpected grasps of his former tormentors and stands there, breathing unevenly, still afflicted by the excitation.

The lightweight flittering papers rain down on him, brushing against his overheated skin like cool relief, happiness radiating to every nerve ending in his body. A large hand grabs his wrist and for an instant he is warped back to that time, but then those beautiful golden amber eyes trap him, molten and alluring, and the smile that stretches across his face couldn't have been stopped by anything.

Blaine pulls him closer, until they are chest to chest, the hand on his wrist relocating to his waist and the other coming up to caress his jaw. Even before he can register what's happening, plump lips he is all too familiar with capture his and his body is thrumming with energy and heat.

His hands immediately rise to bunch his boyfriend's shirt in his hands, dragging their bodies closer still until they are completely aligned, lips pulling away for a breath before diving back in with vigor.

He hopes that in his response that Blaine can feel all the emotions he's too controlled to express. He wants Blaine to understand that he is proud of their achievement, happy that they have come this far from their time together at Dalton, relieved that at the very least, in this moment, they can express themselves fully in a public setting.

Their breath continues to mingle, even when they pull away. Glasz orbs greet hazel ones with brightness, all of the emotions spilling out through his pores as he feels his boyfriends arms wrap around him into the tightest hug he's received so far.

They release one another at the same time, Kurt's wide smile complimenting Blaine's equally luminescent one.

"Congratulations, Kurt."

"Congratulations, Blaine."