Kurt didn't believe in Gods and he most definitely did not believe he was the type of guy that would draw-designs-with-the-eyes so to speak on anyone but watching Blaine sleep late that night... he swore he'd discovered some manner of Hercules.
Kurt really wasn't that quick to open up to people and yet he'd welcomed Blaine to live with him the second time of their meeting. There was just something so charming about the olive-oil skin and black curls and chocolate eyes. He was like a puppy, a well-mannered broken-hearted Ivy League puppy. There was a dreamy piping of Led Zeppelin's "Since I've Been Loving You" drifting under the door like smoke from the living room where Puck still had the radio on so late at night.
Kurt released a noiseless sigh and propped his cheek on his fist, shifting his folded legs as quietly as possible. He was curled up in the little egg-shaped chair which sat against the wall just on the center divide between his side of the room and the other. Finn told him he might as well move it to his side because poor Frankenteen was well-aware that he would never actually fit in the mod-inspired thing. Yet Kurt liked it in the center there, maybe as something symbolic, but mostly for the satisfaction of his eye for design. His eyes wandered to the folded cowboy duvet that he once so loathed but couldn't throw away because it was just so Finn. Yet it wasn't that dreamy schoolboy crush sort of clinging anymore, now it was acknowledgment of what his stepbrother meant as family. Kurt's ill-fated crush on the boy which had started back in freshman year, felt so far away now. Farther than ever now that there was a very fascinating tender-eyed actually-gay boy sleeping in his room.
Blaine slept so much more disorderly than he spoke or moved. His left arm was under the pillow, the other hanging over the edge and the sheets were a curling mass around him. His handsome face contorted as the subconscious probably gave into the worry of being outed and disowned all in one day.
Kurt didn't mean to stare. He sometimes had these nights where memories of his mother came rushing to him and the vision of a dresser in a house very far away haunted him with homesickness and he was struck with insomnia. This being one of those nights, he had gotten up and taken to his notebook with the intention to write a song (Rachel was always saying that the only way he and the boys could make the big time was if they wrote original songs), but nothing came to mind so he just took to doodling dreamily in the dark and admiring his new roommate…
He was taking in the curve of Blaine's back when he blushed to think of how ironic it was that Blaine had seen him nearly bare within an hour of their meeting and he had still banished him to a different room so the two of them could change. He simply recalled too well the tender cut of Blaine's abs and truth be told, behind the fierce confidence Kurt was actually really insecure. In a way his femininity was a blessing, take the army recruiters or the crowds his androgynous voice drew in at the club. But in other ways it was torture, because he really did like masculinity, especially boys like Blaine. And when Kurt Hummel fell in love he tumbled into it, breathlessly and uncontrollably, right down the rabbit hole. His breath hitched as Blaine curled his fingers and shifted his right arm to join the other under the pillow and heap of raven hair. It was already hopeless infatuation and he knew love would not wait long after.
Kurt folded his notebook up silently and convinced himself to get back to bed lest he fall back on his sacred morning moisturizing ritual. I'm about lose to my worried mind, Robert Plant sang to him. Yes, he agreed. Yes, I am.
(A/N: "Since I've Been Loving You" was actually released in 1970 but I'd already written this when I discovered and the song is just too perfect and sexy to replace so imagine that Puck's tuned in to a live version, the way bands used to preview unreleased songs on radio stations back in the day.)