"Up until yesterday I'd never been kissed..."
Blaine looked up at the boy next to him.
"At least,"Kurt sniffed, "when it counted." He turned further away from Blaine, reluctant to meet his gaze. Kurt couldn't imagine anything worse than Blaine (or anyone else for that matter) seeing his face all puffy and pink from crying- salty tears did not do his naturally pale complexion any favours. He was hunched over, delicate arms clinging to his knees as if they were a floatation device of sorts as Blaine shuffled closer. Kurt could've sworn he felt Blaine's eyes, brown with flecks of silvery green, scanning his profile with sympathy. Not adoration, Kurt reminded himself sternly, Sympathy. He's just being a good friend. Slowly, he turned to face forwards again, wiping his eyes feverishly with his fingers. To be honest, Kurt felt a bit stupid. There he was feeling sorry for himself, tears streaming down his face like a baby whilst this gorgeous guy was sitting right next to him. Of course, Kurt didn't think he had any chance with Blaine. Kurt wasn't even sure he liked him "like that", or whether the little dancing butterflies he got in his stomach every time Blaine looked at him were a sign of something entirely different. Sneakily he glanced to the side, making distinct eye contact with his stunning, smartly-dressed new friend. A smile crept its way to Kurt's lips, but then he remembered how blotchy his face must've been and snapped his head back down, eyes fixed on the floor.
"Hey, come on," Blaine chuckled lightly, a smile of his own forming as he softly rubbed Kurt's Marc Jacobs-clad shoulder, "I'll buy you lunch."
Kurt flashed him an appreciative grin. There they are again, he thought as the jittery butterflies raced around his stomach, getting up off the cold stair to follow suit. Blaine had insisted on holding Kurt's backpack, which made him feel somewhat very well cared for. Protected, even, for as the two boys walked down the vast winding corridors of William McKinley High, people stopped to stare at them, eyes flickering to Blaine as they questioned their fellow classmates as to who he was. Kurt couldn't help but grin despite himself.
"Whoever said gallantry's dead has obviously never met you, Blaine," he smiled as they approached the school gates.
Blaine adjusted the strap of Kurt's satchel and pushed the gates open with flourish. "After you, kind sir!"
Kurt gracefully crossed to the pavement. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be zooming around full speed now, causing him to shiver slightly. He didn't know what he was meant to feel at that point; he'd been similar situations before with past crushes Finn and Sam, and those both ended in farce. Blaine is different though, Kurt mused as he watched the dark-haired boy firmly shut the gate behind them, hazel eyes fixed intently as his hands worked to close the stubborn and rusty latch.
"Success!" Blaine gave a hoot of achievement as he gestured to the now locked gate.
Kurt let out a small laugh, curtseying as he did, a gesture which Blaine met with a gentlemanly bow and similarly bright smile.
Blaine was very, very different.
-Six months later -
His footsteps echoed throughout the long marble hallway as the five-foot-something boy hurried himself to European History. Classes at Dalton were twice as difficult, and similarly the teachers were about five times as strict as he was used to in the grime-and-slushy-coated realms of William McKinley High. Kurt was both grateful for the distraction (after all, what was a better way to take your mind off a particularly attractive best friend than to tackle a mound of homework?) and nervous about maintaining his recently attained good impression. At Dalton, schoolwork was a top priority.
Well, schoolwork and Warbler practise.
Which is why Kurt wasn't surprised as much as he was slightly relieved when a another, more rapid set of footsteps fell in line with his own, the owner of said footsteps beaming at him with cheery hazel eyes that one could easily melt in: Blaine.
"Hey, Kurt! Emergency Warbler's meeting," Blaine said, taking Kurt's arm in his hand as a means to slow the taller boy down. Kurt tried his best to ignore those persistent butterflies zooming around his stomach as he met Blaine's pace.
"So I get to miss European History?"
"Sadly, yes."
Kurt gave a whoop of happiness. "Oh, thank God. I didn't even finish up to the the third of the four essays Mr. Gamble assigned us and the prospect of detention on a Friday was really bringing me down."
"In that case, you're welcome," Blaine laughed, "I'm the one who called the meeting in the first place."
"Really?" Kurt raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as the two set off in the opposite direction for the Warbler's council hall. "I thought only Thad, Wes and David could call meetings."
Blaine smiled to himself, licking his lips as he momentarily brought his eyes away from Kurt's. "I pulled a few strings."
"Somehow I find that hard to believe."
"Fine. I may or may not have bribed Wes with the promise of buying him a new gavel."
"What happened to his other one?"
"Well let's just say that Nick couldn't find a fly swat at his earliest convenience and he has an all-consuming fear of anything with more than four legs."
Kurt gave a nod of understanding. "RIP Gavel the First."
"RIP Gavel the First," Blaine reiterated with mock solemnity.
Wait.
Kurt forgot about his flip-flopping, butterfly-infested stomach (because oh, his eyes...)as he realised Blaine had brought him right past their destination, and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Blaine, isn't the Council back there?"
"Oh. Yeah. But we're not going to the Council, Kurt," Blaine's grip on Kurt's arm tightened slightly in a soft squeeze, his brazen façade of confidence temporarily faltering to reveal a less-than-assured grin of hopefulness, eyes reduced to puddles of molten chocolate that Kurt would've happily fallen into then and there, "We're going to the piano room."
"...the piano room?" Kurt didn't understand. "But what about the meeting?"
Blaine looked uncomfortable again, the kind of uncomfortable that people get when their plans don't go exactly as they're meant to. "It's... it's not as much of a meeting as much as it is a... a performance."
Realisation hit Kurt like an icy slushy facial. There were those dratted butterflies again, tickling his stomach and making him feel ridiculously light headed. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, though.
"A performance? You mean... we're practising a group performance?"
Kurt already knew the answer, though. He knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear Blaine say it. Make it real.
Pause.
"Actually, Kurt," Blaine was speaking in a soft, low voice, barely there, like a whisper only much more private; his hand travelled down Kurt's, lacing their fingers briefly before properly holding hands like on the day they first met, "I wrote you a song. And I want you to hear it. Just you and me. The others aren't coming."
Kurt smiled, smothering the urge to throw his arms around Blaine and kiss him full on the lips. "Hence the bribery?"
"Hence the bribery."
As their eyes flickered apart, Blaine gripped Kurt's hand tighter, guiding him down the corridor and through a pair of heavy oak doors into the piano room. Pianos of all shapes and sizes, makes and colours, brands and origins were spread out across the vast space. Kurt couldn't help but sigh.
"Choose one."
"What?"
"Choose a piano. I want this to be perfect."
Kurt gazed at Blaine in near disbelief. Was this seriously the same boy who'd told him only months ago how lack-lustre he was at romance? The similarities seemed nonexistent, but then there it was: a momentary flash of Blaine's inner hopeless romantic, of a sixteen year old schoolboy who was trying his best to show the boy that he loved just how much he loved him.
Yes.
Love.
He turned back to the array of pianos. "The white one by the window, there." Kurt pointed at a beautiful white mahogany piano, sunlight glinting off the polished surface with all the brilliance of a cut diamond.
Blaine gave Kurt's hand another gentle squeeze as they wove their way to the anointed instrument, Blaine pulling the red velvet-covered stool out for Kurt before sitting down himself.
"Before I start, there's something I have to say," Blaine said, turning to face Kurt, their faces bathed in pale sunshine. He looks like an angel, he thought, biting his lip as he took Kurt's soft hand in his once more. "I wrote this a few weeks after I met you. I don't know when it was that I realised who I'd written it for because I had all these feelings and no idea where they'd came from, but I think it was that day last February. You know, when I'd royally embarrassed myself in front of that Jeremiah guy at The Gap and you told me..." Blaine licked his lips. His hands were uncharacteristically beginning to shake. "You told me-"
"I told you I thought you were going to ask me out on Valentine's."
"Yeah. And then I told you that I didn't want to screw this up. And by this," Blaine brought his other hand up to touch Kurt's cheek, leaning in closer, "I meant this."
Kurt's eyes fluttered shut as he waited for the gentle pressure of Blaine's lips against his.
Any second now, any seco-
Blaine's hands had suddenly left Kurt's cheek and hand, the startled boy opening his eyes upon hearing the first few bars of Blaine's song for him. He felt a little disappointed.
And then suddenly all feelings of disappointment vanished like a think wisp of smoke as Blaine began to sing.
I've been alone
Surrounded by darkness
And I've seen how heartless
The world
Can be
Blaine looked up at Kurt from the alabaster white piano keys and simply smiled. If Kurt had any doubts about his feelings for this wonderful person, he no longer had any.
And I've seen you crying
You felt like it's hopeless
I'll always do my best
To make you see
Baby, you're not alone
Now you're here with me
And nothing's ever gonna bring us down 'cause nothing could
Keep me from loving you
And you know it's true
Blaine's voice rose, eyes closing as he envisioned Kurt in his mind's eye- beautiful and hopeful and perfect in every feasible way. When he opened his eyes, that was exactly what he saw.
It don't matter what'll come to be
Our love is all we need
To make it through
Kurt willed himself not to cry, but he couldn't help it. It was everything he'd imagined it would be and so, so much more. Betraying himself, Kurt let two tears slip down his cheeks as Blaine's song swept blissfully over him.
Now I know it ain't easy
But it ain't hard trying
Every time I see you smiling
And I feel you so close
To me
Heart thudding, he watched Kurt choking back tears, his face blushing an adorable shade of pink. He shifted closer to Kurt on the stool, nudging his thigh with his knee as a means to comfort him. Please let this be a good cry instead of a bad cry, Blaine pleaded with himself, please.
And you tell me
That baby, you're not alone
'Cause you're here with me
And nothing's every gonna bring us down 'cause nothing could
Keep me from loving you
Kurt's foot wormed it's way around Blaine's as he joined in softly, his harmony mingling with Blaine's so perfectly that neither boy could quite believe it. The song was so phenomenally theirs.
And you know it's true
It don't matter what'll come to be
Our love is all we need to make it through
Kurt's voice fell away as the melody changed to merge into the bridge of the song- aka, the part that took Blaine weeks to perfect over and over again once he realised that the song had to be tailor made to fit Kurt Hummel.
I still have trouble
I trip and stumble
Trying to make sense of it sometimes
I look for reasons
But I don't need 'em
All I need is to look in your eyes
Blaine did just that, meeting Kurt's starry-eyes with his own, voice soaring as never before. Kurt brought out something inside him that no one else could. He didn't know what it was, but Kurt made him feel more alive than ever. He made his every fibre burn, made his breath shake, made his heart race, forced him not to pretend to be some handsome prince charming coming to the rescue because in the end, Kurt was his saviour- not the other way around.
Kurt joined him again for the final chorus.
And I realise
Baby I'm not alone
'Cause you're here with me
And nothing's ever gonna take us down
'Cause nothing, nothing, nothing can keep me from loving you
And you know it's true
It don't matter what'll come to be
Our love is all we need
To make it
Through.
Kurt and Blaine sat in the music room, softly panting for breath as they stared into one another's eyes. With one song, they'd laid their souls bare. With one song, there was nothing left to be said.
Except maybe one or two things.
"So, Kurt," Blaine started once he could breathe properly again, reaching an arm across the small of his back and bringing his hand up under Kurt's chin, faces barely inches apart, "I remember something about you apparently having delicious lips back around Christmastime..."
Kurt grinned. The butterflies in his stomach were seemingly in a full-blown frenzy. "And what's this I seem to recall about me putting my hands on your supposedly skin tight jeans...?"
They both giggled softly, Blaine's eyes slowly closing and Kurt's following suit, and pressed their lips together tenderly for the first time. Kurt reached up and dug his fingers into Blaine's hair, other hand knotting itself in his tie in an effort to pull him in closer, deepening the kiss. Blaine returned the passion just as hungrily, effortlessly making Kurt shudder under his warm touch as Blaine trailed his lips softly over Kurt's jawline, nipped his neck, and kissed his way back to the corners of Kurt's eager mouth, causing Kurt to sigh and moan helplessly into Blaine as he allowed himself to be enveloped by the dashing soloist. They had been waiting so long for this, so long to be together, so long to drop the pretense of being just friends. If there was a moment Kurt would've liked to replay over and over forever, this was it.
A sharp cough behind them broke the boys from their reverie.
"If you gents don't mind," David spoke, trying to be suppress a grin but failing ever so faintly, "There's going to be a music class in here in around about three minutes. Just a heads up."
Blaine laughed, arm still cradling Kurt close to his chest. "Thanks, man. You know, for everything. Tell Wes too."
"No problem," David chuckled shaking his head as he headed back for the door, "Trust me, it's a relief you two have finally got over the whole we're-just-friends stage. All the unsaid romance was near stifling. I'll tell Jeff to sleep in my room tonight then, Kurt," He added wisely.
Kurt turned beetroot. "I-I don't think there'll be any need for, um, that, thanks D-David."
Blaine gave a Kurt a quick peck on the cheek, still beaming widely, and turned back to the know hysterically laughing David. "Don't freak him out! If you scare him off I'll never forgive you."
"Just kidding. That would be inappropriate, of course," David smirked, opening the doors to leave, "See you lovebirds later!"
Kurt heaved a sigh and collapsed his forehead against Blaine's shoulder. "Sorry. I'm very easily, uh, abashed."
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's back in an affectionate embrace. "Hey, don't worry, same here," Blaine smiled into Kurt's hair. It smelt like fresh orange zest.
Kurt bobbed his head back up to deliver a cheeky kiss to Blaine's nose.
Kurt grinned.
Blaine grinned.
Now was the time to officialise it.
Blaine stroked a slow line from Kurt's forehead to his chin, skimming over his delicate lips and pert button nose.
"I love you, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt squeezed Blaine's other hand tight before bringing it up to his lips and planting a loud, smacking kiss on the back of his soon-to-be-boyfriend's hand.
"I love you too, Blaine Anderson."
