Blaine sat between Kurt and Rachel on the plane and tried not to be noticeably hopelessly depressed. While they talked and tittered to each other over him, he vowed to himself to try to be happy. If he couldn't convince himself he'd done the right thing by encouraging Kurt to go, he could at least not bring them down over their first weekend in New York. They had two days all to themselves. For two days he could pretend he was going to stay with them, and that would make him happy.

"I can't believe we're going back!" Rachel bounced in her seat.

"For the record, I was not crying when I left my dad," Kurt said, rubbing his dry cheeks. He still hadn't taken off the sunglasses he'd put on between Burt's car and the terminal. Blaine put his head on Kurt's shoulder sympathetically.

"And Blaine! You're going to New York for the first time! Or have you been there before?" Rachel asked.

"No, I've never been there before," Blaine said.

"Have you ever even been on a plane before? Wait, don't answer that. You probably spent every summer of your childhood somewhere in the Mediterranean."

"No comment," Blaine answered, and they both laughed. He smiled. What a strange sensation.

In the city Rachel carried two suitcases, Kurt carried two suitcases, and Blaine carried two more of Kurt's, along with his own, sad little two-day bag. They tried not to trip strangers, or knock the legs out from anyone, as they went from train to train, from JFK all the way to Brooklyn.

By the time they were walking the final three blocks they were out of breath and had cramps in their arms. "Okay," Rachel huffed, "we should have splurged on a taxi, just this once."

"I told you I spent all my money checking four suitcases," Kurt replied.

"This is a more authentic experience," Blaine said, deciding to be optimistic about absolutely everything all weekend long. "You have to suffer to get to New York, and it won't accept you until then, or something."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Blaine and Kurt came to a quick halt when Rachel suddenly stopped and looked up to the top of a certain brick building. "This is it," she said quietly.

Kurt took a deep breath. "Remember what we promised in Lima. We got this apartment, sight unseen, on the Internet. It's probably mold infested, rat infested, bat infested—"

"Oh God," Rachel said, maybe on the verge of fainting.

"But we're going to clean it, empty it out, free all the critters, paint it, and we'll make it our own," Kurt insisted. He dropped one of his suitcases and put an arm around her shoulders.

Blaine stood awkwardly to the side, thinking about how much they looked and sounded like a newly married couple and trying not to grind his teeth down to nothing. If only things were different, he and Kurt would be finding their first place together instead.

Optimism, he repeated to himself. Optimism. You're the one he's taking to bed tonight. That thought superficially cheered him up, would keep him from sobbing for at least the next ten minutes, and that's all he needed. One step at a time.

"What if there's no floor?" Rachel was whispering. "What there are squatters in it? What if they have guns?"

Blaine took the initiative to pull open the front door, leading to the mailboxes and the stairwell. "Let's go in," he smiled at them, only marginally forced. "Eighth floor, right?"

He led the way up the stairs, but each subsequent flight slowed them more and more.

"Oh, God," Kurt gasped half way up. They were all feeling a little asthmatic. "Next time we are definitely renting in a building with an elevator."

"What is wrong with these stairs?" Rachel asked, pulling each suitcase up each stair with both hands, one at a time. "Why won't they end?"

"Just think how muscular you'll be in a month," Blaine said from the top, his emotional unease keeping him from succumbing to the stairs. He had enough suppressed rage to stomp up and down them a few times. "You'll have abs." Optimism!

They made it to the door of their apartment finally, Kurt and Rachel gasping for breath again. Rachel almost put the key in the lock but hesitated first. "Before we go in, I just want to say, if there's no floor in there, I'm sorry."

"I'll forgive you," Kurt promised, and Blaine nodded.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open.

They stared for a moment, speechless, from the hallway.

"It's fine," Blaine said finally, going in first.

"It has a floor," Kurt observed, following him.

"I think it smells weird. Does it smell weird?" Rachel asked.

"We'll open the windows," Blaine said, crossing the room to get to one. He tried to pull it open but it was painted shut. He turned back to her. "We'll buy some air freshener," he amended.

They checked closets and the bathroom for intruders of any species, but found nothing alarming at all.

"Is it actually possible we didn't make a horrible decision?" Rachel asked.

Kurt looked up. "Well, the ceiling didn't just fall on your head, so I guess it is possible."

They seemed happy. They ordered authentic New York pizza for lunch, which turned not to be very good or necessarily authentic. While they ate there was a knock on the door. They froze for a moment, wondering who could possibly be there to visit.

"This is it," Rachel said. "This is how we die."

Kurt rolled his eyes and got up to open the door.

"Delivery for Rachel Berry," a couple of men said, and proceeded to bring two bed frames, two mattresses, a sofa, a television, a small kitchen table and two chairs up all eight flights of stairs and into the appropriate rooms. All the while Rachel jumped and clapped.

"My dads are amazing," she sighed.

"They can't just buy me a bed," Kurt said, frowning into his room. "I can pretend the rest of it is yours and you let me borrow it, but not that. I have a hundred dollars saved to get a mattress."

"You can't get a mattress for a hundred dollars," Rachel and Blaine told him together.

"A… used… one?" he tried.

"If you made me sleep on someone's used mattress this weekend, I'd leave and stay at a hotel. And take you with me," Blaine said.

"Just pay them back later, if you really want to," Rachel waved it off. She ran into her room and jumped onto the bed. "It's amazing." She gave them a look. "You know what we can buy with a hundred dollars? Sheets. And dishes. Well, cheap sheets, and a few dishes. What else do we need?" Without waiting for an answer she bounced off the bed and headed to the door. "Let's go shopping."

Blaine loyally followed them around, store after store, smiling, offering advice, helping to carry even more bags, and smiling more. They were out until the sky turned black and all the lights of the city flickered on.

With their arms full of bags overflowing with household necessities, Rachel stopped them on the way home and insisted they try a certain Italian restaurant for dinner.

They sat in a dark little corner booth. Blaine pulled Kurt next to him, and they piled all their purchases next to Rachel. When she looked particularly engrossed in her menu, Kurt nudged Blaine's shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Blaine looked at him sideways. "Honestly, I'm exhausted."

Kurt smiled. "Really? I'm wide awake."

"Me too," Rachel said. "I'm just so excited. Maybe it's adrenaline. Maybe we should run around the perimeter of Manhattan."

Kurt laughed.

Blaine sighed and ordered coffee with his meal. When the waiter left he looked at Kurt again. "Are you happy?"

"Of course I am. Do I not look happy?"

"No, you do. I just want to be sure you're not… freaked out."

"No, I'm happy. I mean, look at us! We moved in, we bought stuff for our apartment, we're in an adorable New York restaurant. We haven't been held up at knifepoint yet. We can totally do this."

Rachel nodded. "We can."

Blaine turned his gaze from Kurt to Rachel. He was irrationally angry with her. He knew he shouldn't be, and that she didn't deserve it, so he was hiding it as best as he possibly could. But his nerves were wearing thin then and he decided to at prod her, just a little.

"Are we allowed to talk about Finn yet?" he asked, concentrating on pouring a packet of sugar into his coffee.

Kurt tensed beside him, and looked at Rachel to see if she would start screaming or burst into tears.

She was silent at first, but finally nodded. "Sure, we can talk about him."

Pain passed over her face, and Blaine felt as awful as he deserved to. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"I don't know what he's trying to prove," she blurted out, ignoring Blaine's apology. "Do you know about his stupid soulmate situation?"

"No," Blaine lied.

"I told him, but I made him promise to act like he doesn't know anything about it," Kurt explained.

"He doesn't want anyone to know anything about it, he doesn't want anyone to talk to him about it. I actually think he broke up with me just because I know, and now he refuses to be around me." Rachel sighed and stabbed a tomato with her fork. "It doesn't make sense otherwise. If he has no intention of finding his soulmate, why would he break up with me? We were perfect together. And I'm convinced that's why I didn't make it into NYADA. I mean, who breaks up with someone five minutes before a big audition?"

"It's life experience, Kurt insisted. "Now you can play broken hearted authentically."

"I don't know if it was worth it or not," she said, frowning, and silence followed.

"Fantastic," Blaine said. "Now I've depressed everyone."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm fine. It's just…" She looked up at him. "Since you'll be in Lima another year, it might be nice if you talk to him. Maybe he needs someone to…" she made an indecipherable gesture with her hands.

Blaine waited for her to explain in words, but she didn't. So he said, "Okay," instead, not sure what he'd just agreed to do.

She seemed to regain some, but not all, of the cheerfulness she'd had before he said anything. They shared a dessert and talked, Kurt and Rachel about the future, Blaine periodically reminding them of the past.

They paid finally, sometime around midnight, and walked back to the apartment. Kurt took Blaine's hand and they slowed to fall a few paces behind Rachel.

Kurt smiled at him and swung their clasped hands in the space between them, wordlessly pointing out that they were holding hands in public. When Blaine realized it his heart swelled. Suddenly he remembered a million times at school, or shopping at the mall, or being anywhere except alone in one of their bedrooms when he would catch himself standing too close to Kurt. A couple of times he even realized he'd unconsciously put his arm around Kurt's waist. All the times he'd grabbed Kurt's hand and then, at the contact, realized he couldn't, and dropped it again like he'd been scalded. He remembered the specific feeling in his chest every time he had to take a step back from Kurt, to check and see if anyone was watching, the fear that the wrong person might be.

Ahead of them Rachel babbled on endlessly, certain that he and Kurt were hanging on her every word, and he realized how grateful of her friendship he was, but it wasn't until then. She was certainly the most accepting of their relationship of all their friends, and he did enjoy spending time with her. He was glad she was there, even if he'd spent the whole day wishing he could obliterate her with his mind. But nothing could change the fact that there were some parts of his and Kurt's lives that she would never understand. That moment was one of them.

Blaine decided to kiss him. In less than a second his plan progressed from kissing him on the cheek, to the lips, and it ended up that he had Kurt backed up against the brick exterior of a Japanese grocery store, his fingers twined in and tugging Kurt's hair, his tongue sliding into Kurt's mouth. Kurt didn't protest; his eyebrows rose in surprise but he pulled Blaine closer, arms wrapping around his waist.

It took Rachel a few extra steps before she realized they weren't following her anymore, and she stopped short with a, "Hey! What're you—" and then put a hand on her hip and glared at them until they pulled apart from each other and followed her again.

Kurt seemed a little unsteady on his feet, which Blaine considered an accomplishment, and his hair was mussed and he was speechless.

"Can you please wait until we get home, at least?" Rachel scolded them.

They obliged, but abandoned her pretty quickly after making it through the front door. She went into her room and shut the door, saying something Blaine didn't pay attention to about noise canceling headphones.

If Blaine really thought about it, which he didn't, he would feel guilty about bringing up Rachel's breakup and then banishing her to her room to sit, alone, and wait for morning when he and Kurt would actually speak to her again. But all he could think about was Kurt.

They had to take a short break from kissing when they got into his room, realizing the mattress was bare. "My sheets!" Kurt exclaimed, and Blaine waited semi-patiently while he pulled them on and smoothed out all the wrinkles, and assured him that the viridescent color was lovely.

He'd had a plan for that night for a while. Sometimes he was too miserable to remember it, and all that day he'd purposefully not thought about it because it would have driven him crazy.

Since the first time they had sex they continued to do exactly the same thing each time afterward. It was probably because it worked well enough the first time, and it was less embarrassing to do the same thing than try something new, or even mention trying something new. It was comfortable. Which was fine. But Blaine needed to switch positions with him before he left New York. He knew somehow that his soul needed it, needed to be surrounded and enveloped, taken and penetrated by Kurt to be able to survive a year without him.

As soon as the sheets were set to Kurt's liking, Blaine pinned him down on the bed and kissed him. Kurt began to protest. "I just realized, I think… you're supposed to… wash sheets before you put them on." He pulled back from Blaine, to where Blaine couldn't reach for a moment, and looked mildly terrified. "What if someone bought them before, and used them, and returned them and—" but he stopped when Blaine hummed to the contrary against his lips.

It went against all of his wishes, but Blaine couldn't help but tease him a little. "You're the one who wanted to sleep on a used mattress."

"But that's New Yorky," Kurt said. "This is just dirty."

It made no sense to Blaine. "We are not having this conversation anymore," he decided, and kissed Kurt again.

Kurt sighed something indecipherable, maybe about laundromats and showers later, and settled down into that familiar place beneath Blaine on the bed. It was nice to have Kurt's arms around his neck, to kiss down to his throat and to just almost feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric between them, but he wasn't going to let it last long. Ignoring the part of him that wanted to stay there forever, he rolled off to the side and lay on his back, waiting for Kurt to infer the meaning and climb atop him. Instead Kurt just looked at him with a frown. "What are you doing over there?"

Blaine smiled and motioned toward himself with his hands. "Come here."

"Oh," Kurt said, and then realized what was happening. "Oh… I… I… no."

Blaine blinked at him. "No?"

"No, no. I think you… have to possess a certain talent that I'm… lacking."

"You do?"

"Yes, like… ruggedness, and general sexuality."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, pausing. "What?"

"I don't know!" Kurt yelled, and turned red. "You have to know what you're doing, to be on top. And I don't have any idea."

"Like I knew what I was doing, our first time? I didn't know, either. But now I've paved the way and it should be ten times easier for you."

Kurt chewed on his lip, thinking.

Blaine sat up. "You know what? Never mind."

"No, no!" Kurt yelled again. "I'll do it, I just—"

"No, I'm serious. You said no, I'm respecting it. Let's just… go watch TV. We can pull Rachel out of her room and have a marathon of the worst show we can possibly find."

"No," Kurt said, insistent. He put his hands on Blaine's legs to keep him from getting up off the bed completely and leaving the room. "Just give me a second to think."

Blaine leaned his elbows on his legs and put his chin in his hands, waiting. "I have no intention of letting you touch me at all after this, but for the record, you are the sexiest boy I've ever seen."

Kurt sighed. "Including celebrities?"

"Including celebrities."

He shook his head. "That's not true. Everything about me screams five year old."

"Um," Blaine said and took Kurt's hand to kiss his knuckles. "I beg to differ."

"It's also not true you're not letting me touch you anymore," Kurt smiled at him.

"Want to bet?"

"Yes," he said, and crawled closer to Blaine until he settled on his lap. "I'll do it, I just need a little encouragement."

"I'm not encouraging you to do anything you don't want to do," Blaine replied, and looked away to a random blank spot on the wall. It was proving difficult to keep a straight face. It was easier if he didn't look at him.

"All you have to say," Kurt said, expertly guiding Blaine down to his back again, "is that you want me, and you trust me, and you know I can do it."

"Isn't that exactly what I've already said?" Blaine asked, but Kurt ignored him and kissed him. "I want you all the time, I trust you with my life, and I know you can do it," he whispered against Kurt's lips. "And you're the one who told me I had to try being on the bottom."

Kurt laughed and blushed. "You can't quote me from times that I… when I…" he stopped, not knowing what to say. "Well, it's true, you should."

Blaine made a gesture that indicated he was waiting, ready when Kurt was.

Kurt took a deep breath. "Okay," he said.

At least by then they had learned to undress each other with better fluidity, and some small and still alert part of Blaine's mind was happy to note Kurt left the light on. Usually they made love in the dark, under blankets, at Kurt's will.

When Blaine was naked and Kurt only wore a thin pair of briefs, he seemed to suddenly realize the light he'd forgotten. He made a slightly unhappy noise and twisted toward the light switch, hoping to reach it without getting off the bed, but Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him back before his fingers made it.

"Leave it," Blaine whispered, "please."

Kurt hesitated, the look on his face ready to turn into the word 'no' at any second.

But before he could say it, Blaine played the best card he had. "We're going to be apart for a year after this. I won't even see your face again until Thanksgiving or Christmas. Let me see you now, while we're still together. All of you."

"You have seen me," Kurt laughed a little awkwardly.

"Not in the light," Blaine said, and didn't say that it also had a lot to do with trust, and that he wanted Kurt to trust him completely even more than he wanted to have sex with him.

But he didn't have to. Kurt sat up on his knees, looking nervous but not particularly afraid, and pulled off his underwear himself, and then waited, unmoving, for Blaine to look at him.

Blaine had seen Kurt a little bit before, in the dark shadows, and had touched him plenty of times, and imagined the look of what he was feeling. But it was nice, an understatement of the century, it was amazing and fulfilling to see Kurt's whole body, without anything in the way. It made him feel more like Kurt's lover, which was on most days the only thing he wanted to be. It made him the only person in the world besides Kurt himself who had seen him like that: adult and naked, with half an erection.

Unsurprisingly, Kurt's penis was long and lean and flushed pink like the rest of him, ending in a patch of brown hair that Blaine had secretly wanted to kiss for almost as long as he'd known him. He supposed giving Kurt his first blow job and asking him to top all in one night would be asking too much, so he suppressed the urge and pulled Kurt into his lap instead. Even though they were in opposite positions, it was a comfortable, familiar place to be and Kurt seemed to relax.

"I don't know why I always think you're going to make fun of me," Kurt smiled, embarrassed. "I value your opinion too highly, I guess."

"I'm only thinking about how beautiful you are, and all the dirty things I'm going to do to you later. I would never make fun of you, and I couldn't anyway, because there's nothing to make fun of. You're bigger than me anyway, dummy," Blaine said, and kissed him.

Kurt smiled into the kiss. "Maybe length, not girth. It doesn't—"

Blaine shushed him. "Promise me, starting now, you'll never worry about what I think, ever again. Don't ever be embarrassed around me, especially about your body or your sexuality."

"Fine," Kurt nodded. "I am kind of hot, right?"

"Right," Blaine agreed. "More than kind of. And always be honest with me. So tell me the truth. Do you want to be with me tonight? Or do you want TV night with Rachel?"

"You," Kurt answered immediately. "Definitely."

"Do you want me to be on top again?"

"No," Kurt shook his head. "I want to try it. Before you go."

Blaine sighed at the reminder. While he was momentarily distracted, Kurt leaned over and pulled a bottle of lube from one of his gigantic suitcases, one of the ones Blaine had been dragging around all day. He smiled triumphantly.

Blaine half groaned and half laughed. "I was going to attempt to discreetly buy some today and I forgot. I didn't want to fly with it. Does it count as liquid? I don't know."

"Got it myself," Kurt hummed happily and poured some into his hand.

"In Lima?"

He nodded and gave a stroke to Blaine's erection. "You should have seen what I was wearing. I scared the shit out of the cashier."

Blaine arced his hips forward into the touch and grabbed hold of Kurt's penis, teasing it until it stood fully erect. "Now you're my hero."

"You're still mine," Kurt said, and kissed him so hard he leaned back toward the bed again. "Now lie down and open your legs."

Blaine snorted but obliged. "Such a romantic," he whispered.

"I love you to death," Kurt assured him, settling on top of him. "And I am romantic, I'm just trying out strong and assertive right now. It's who I need to be for this performance."

Blaine tried not to laugh, but didn't hide his smile. He hooked his legs up onto Kurt's hips, certain this was the most vulnerable position he had ever been in, and found it thrilling.

Kurt looked at his own fingers, lubrication still on them. "Should I?" he asked nervously.

"Please, Mr. Assertive," Blaine said.

The first finger offered an expected, dull discomfort. Blaine was more nervous about the prospect of two, but tried diligently not to show it. He wanted desperately to see the whole thing through.

Without asking for permission anymore, Kurt began to slide a second finger in, and it was then that Blaine felt a change. He didn't have the capacity to feel pain or discomfort, because he became suddenly consumed and obsessed with the feeling of Kurt, his fingers were fine, but his penis would be much better, being inside him. Kurt curled his fingers slightly and stroked him from the inside, and Blaine, without warning or meaning to, shook with passion.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked when Blaine jerked, but closer to him, not away.

"Yeah," Blaine cleared his throat. "Yes." He reached down between then to pull Kurt's wrist, to pull his fingers out. "Let's really do this."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, a little taken aback. "We can spend more time preparing—"

But Blaine shook his head, ignoring him, and spreading lubrication over Kurt's length. "No, I need you, right now."

"Okay, okay, but don't rush too much," Kurt said. Blaine was trying to line himself up with Kurt without his help, to push himself into Kurt if Kurt wasn't going to push inside first.

He managed it, somehow, and allowed too much of Kurt in too fast. He was hit with a fast, hot burst of pain that brought him back down to reality, if only for a moment.

"Blaine!" Kurt scolded, and grabbed his hand. They gripped each other's fingers tightly. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry," Blaine breathed, somewhat certain he was bleeding, and not really caring. The pain was fading almost as fast as it had come, and he was being overtaken again by the absolute need to do nothing but feel Kurt moving inside him. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, of course not. You're the one who must be hurt."

He shook his head. "I'm fine now. Please." He wasn't sure what he was pleading for, or at least was too afraid to say it out loud. But Kurt knew, Kurt always knew, and he moved.

Poor, sweet Kurt was as slow and scared as Blaine had been the first time, certain if he moved much at all he might break Blaine into pieces. It was fine for a while, while Blaine recovered. But all pain was instantaneously forgotten when Kurt gently, probably accidentally, bumped into Blaine's prostate.

Blaine involuntarily clenched tight around Kurt, and Kurt gasped in response, and both of them had a moment in which they lost themselves, in which they both tried hard not to moan out loud.

Blaine had his eyes shut tight and leaned his head back far so his throat was exposed. Kurt kissed him there, at his Adam's apple, so gently it drove Blaine crazy. It was beautiful and felt wonderful, but he needed something more.

He opened his eyes and looked at Kurt. "Don't freak out," he said.

"Why? What? Why?" Kurt asked, freaking out.

Blaine held onto Kurt's waist and pulled himself up, slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the contact or allow Kurt to fall or pull out of him. He guided Kurt to his back, until he was settled down comfortably on his new sheets and Blaine was sitting up on top of him. He took Kurt's hand again, and again Kurt grasped his fingers tight.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked him.

"Are you okay?" Kurt replied.

"I'm fine, I promise. I want to try it like this," Blaine said, and wiggled down so that Kurt's entire length filled him. Kurt was too nervous to try going in all the way before, and Blaine was feeling too impatient to wait for him.

In that position the responsibility fell off Kurt, which relaxed him. In that position, Blaine had control over mostly everything, and that thrilled him, too. He tried to start slow for Kurt, but he lost himself again soon afterward, and quickly began to move faster and harder than they'd ever tried before. The harder he pushed himself onto Kurt, the better it felt, and the speed was just a consequence. He tried to remember to squeeze tight against Kurt's erection, and each time he managed Kurt would moan quietly, almost to himself, behind his hand. Blaine had to pull Kurt's hand from his mouth a dozen times, wanting to see his face, wanting to hear him.

He'd found the exact position to lean in so that the tip of Kurt's penis collided perfectly with his prostate, and when he found it he slowed somewhat, wanting to make it last. "Are you okay?" he asked again, only then realizing he was out of breath.

"F—f—fine," Kurt answered, the word knocked off its track every time Blaine came down on him. Kurt tried to touch him, to stroke Blaine like Blaine always stroked him when their roles were reversed, but Blaine took his hand and held it out of reach. He would never last if Kurt touched him, and he wanted Kurt to come first. He almost needed it to happen. He was loving the experience far too much, he hadn't spent enough time reciprocating to Kurt.

He leaned down on his elbows and brought his lips to Kurt's. "How does it feel?" he whispered, still breathing hard, still trying to move slower.

"Amazing. Fantastic."

"Fucking fantastic?"

"Fucking perfect."

Blaine smiled and rolled them over again. It wasn't quite as good for him, but he was sure it was better for Kurt. He looked up at Kurt, his soulmate, and wrapped his legs around Kurt's waist again. "You can do it," he said. Encouragement.

Kurt pushed farther into Blaine than he'd done before, smiling when Blaine whispered 'harder' and 'harder' and finally, 'good, good.' And by then Blaine was an incoherent mess and didn't have the ability to keep Kurt from stroking him, base to tip, in time with his thrusts.

They orgasmed together again, not exactly what Blaine had wanted but close enough. He hated Kurt pulling out more than Kurt seemed to hate it, and covered his face with his hands while Kurt rolled to his side and kissed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, willing his breathing to slow. His chest still rose and fell wildly. "Apparently I really liked that."

"You bled, a little bit," Kurt replied.

Blaine groaned. "Your sheets."

"I can get it out. I can get anything out of anything. I'll do it tomorrow. Don't worry about my sheets. I'm worried about you."

"Don't worry about me," Blaine said so quietly he wasn't sure Kurt could hear him.

"Can you stay awake long enough to take a shower? I want to get it off of you. It makes me sad."

But Blaine was already asleep.