Kurt

Blaine is, I think, enjoying himself. Which is good, because I honestly thought he was going to throw up on the subway. Watching the color slowly drain from his face was agonizing, and several times I thought about getting off at the next stop and just taking a cab back to the apartment, but Blaine seemed quietly determined and surely I owe it to him to encourage that.

It's hard to talk over the noise of the train, especially when he's so quiet and concentrated on not buckling under fear, so instead I held his hand tightly, glaring at the woman opposite who seemed to have an issue with it, and I thought back to this morning, when Blaine had just casually mentioned about us being an old married couple one day.

I was kinda glad he admitted he'd worried about saying it because in all honesty, hearing those words out loud scared me and thrilled me all at the same time. It's definitely something I've thought about, especially with Blaine, but until that moment I didn't really realize it's something I can envision, too. Certainly as time goes on for us we both discover new things; mainly that this relationship isn't perfect, because neither of us are.

And that's okay.

That's okay, because if we can accept each other, flaws and all, then it makes for a stronger, happier, more settled relationship, surely? And maybe that was both our faults, before. Maybe he thought I was this perfect knight in shining armour, come to save him, and I thought he was this perfect dream boy; quiet, thoughtful, romantic. He is, of course, all of those things, but he's also still a teenager who is prone to sulking and feeling a little sorry for himself, and he's also blind.

Okay, a little more than a flaw, I'll admit, and hardly one that can be helped, but I'd severely underestimated the needs Blaine has. It's easy to do, when you only see someone in their familiar setting, and you're too preoccupied with kissing those full, precious lips, and watching that beautiful mouth curve into a smile. But when I left Blaine yesterday, all I could think in that moment was that I needed to walk away, because the red mist was descending and I didn't want to say something I'd regret.

When I called him, and, indeed, when I found him in the park, I realized what a terrible, unkind, and thoughtless thing I had done. The terror in his face was worse than I'd ever seen. This wasn't a mild panic over eating pizza in front of my dad, or worrying that his parents wouldn't let him date me. This was sheer fright, an inability to see, literally and figuratively, how he was going to get out of the situation.

Obviously things got better, but I was glad he told me in no uncertain terms not to do it again. Not that I would have; his face had taught me all the lessons I needed to know, but his words will haunt me and the guilt I feel will linger for the longest time.

It's why I'm going to make him drive this trip, to own it, to learn things about himself that he didn't know before, such as the fact that he is capable of making his own decisions. Simple things, like whether he wants coffee or lemonade, sure, but also more complex choices, such as where he might like to go to college, for example.

We grab our lemonade and sit on towels in the sun. It's getting hotter by the minute, and Blaine, I know, wants to pull his shirt off, because he keeps tugging at the collar where his bow tie sits.

"Just do it."

"Huh? No. Scars. People will stare."

"I don't stare."

"Because you're usually busy kissing," he says with a smile. "They're ugly, Kurt. Horrible."

"They're..." I stop myself from saying they're not. They are, and they're hugely noticeable. Each and every time I've been intimate with Blaine they give me a jolt when he takes his shirt off, or when my hands run over them. But to me, now, they're part of him. I'm aware it's not the same for random people on the beach.

"Yeah, okay, they're not great," I say, feeling lame. "But you know what? You shouldn't have to sit here, stifling hot, just because you're worried about offending people. I'll take my shirt off too, but you'll have to smother me in suncream because I burn easily."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I have really pale skin."

"I never knew that."

"No."

He sits for a moment, thinking, and I let him. Then the bow tie comes off, followed, slowly, by his shirt.

"Please take yours off," he whispers, hugging his arms about himself.

"Sure, but you know, no one's actually looking anyway, they're all too busy doing their own thing. Come here. I'll put cream on you then you can return the favor."

"Oh hell."

I laugh, tugging him between my legs so I can reach his back. "Come on, that can hardly be erotic sitting on a packed beach like this."

"Wanna bet? I don't see anyone. I mean, I hear them, but they're easy enough to block out when you...you...start rubbing lotion onto me like you're doing now and it feels really, really good."

Unable to resist, I lean down and kiss his shoulder. "You always feel good beneath my fingers. And tongue."

"I'm going to demand your silence now."

I laugh, but oblige him. The last thing I want is for him to feel even more self-conscious by sitting on the beach with an erection. We switch places and I'm patient as can be while Blaine sits behind me and fumbles about with the lotion. I don't interfere, or offer to help, I just wait, and then his hands are on my back, massaging slowly.

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to ask you a question, but I'm not sure how to word it, whether it'd offend you or not."

"Kurt, I love you, but you're the most blunt person I know. Just say it."

"Okay. If there was some magical operation that could restore your sight, would you have it?"

"Hmm."

He takes an absolute age to ponder his answer. So long, in fact, that he's long since finished with the sun lotion and we're both lying side by side on our fronts, with me looking out to the ocean and wondering if he'll ever speak again.

"Well, there isn't," he says eventually. "So there's that. But if there was? If I knew it would restore my vision one hundred per cent, then yes. But if it was a maybe, or I'd get back like ten per cent of my sight? No."

"What about fifty per cent?"

"I don't think I'd have it done for less than eighty, to be honest."

"Can I ask why not?"

"Well, I think it would frustrate me more than not being able to see at all. When I first lost my sight, it wasn't just an instant black. I mean, it was technically, but my brain couldn't register that. It still made images all the time. Gradually they became watery, and I hated that phase more than any other. Seeing my mom as she was talking to me, but having her face swim behind my eyes... Not being able to discern Cooper's face, or my dad... I prefer it now. I have vague memories of what they look like, but I try to block that out and most of the time, I do. I've found, through meeting you and your dad, that it's a much more enjoyable experience to meet someone completely new. I have no clue what you really look like, but I'll bet you're a dreamboat."

His choice of words make me laugh out loud, and he's pleased with himself, I can tell. "Yeah, that'll get you laid."

"Good."

"Interesting answer, though. Somehow I had a feeling you wouldn't give an outright yes."

"Of course, you know I wouldn't get a say in it anyway; my mom would have me in that operating theater before I knew what was happening."

"True. I wonder if it would take you long to adjust, if you could see again?"

"Not as long as it took to adjust to no sight, that's for sure."

"Three years on though? You're doing amazingly well."

"Actually, I'm not." There's no pity there, or indulgence, just a statement of fact, and I'm glad when he elaborates. "The Braille thing, yes. I'm smart at that, and I've really enjoyed learning it. I had to, for my own sanity, because reading text books was one of the things I missed most. But the rest of it? Yeah, not so good. I had this guy assigned, and a doctor. They were supposed to help me with coming to terms with it. Counselling, but also more practical stuff like how to cross a road, find my way around places... Only, my parents were in denial, maybe? I don't know. So we didn't do too many sessions before they took me away, saying they'd help me out at home until this had passed."

"Oh Blaine. Wow. That explains so much."

"Yeah. It never passed."

"No, and so your parents are the ones that have helped you?"

"Yes, and I'm very grateful."

"Oh, I get that, I do," I tell him quickly. "But you should've spent more time getting specialist help, surely?"

He shrugs. "It is what it is."

"I guess."

It's my turn to be quiet then, as I contemplate all Blaine has said. He takes his glasses off, turning to face me and running his fingers through my hair. "Don't be sad."

"I'm trying not to."

"Sit up." He guides me, until we're sitting facing one another, with him holding my hands in his. "See me," he says, raising my fingers to his face. "See me like I see you."

Blaine's blindness has made him both acutely aware of his surroundings and yet also entirely unaffected by them. Like now, for example, encouraging me to do this; he doesn't see and therefore doesn't care that we are on a busy beach, surrounded by people and oddly enough, with Blaine in front of me, neither do I.

Closing my eyes, I reach out, tentatively running the fingers of my right hand over his cheekbone, to start. It is defined, lifted with the hint of a smile, and his jawline is sharp.

His lips are full, and I smile as I bring them to mind. They really are perfectly kissable, and I even push the tip of my finger into his mouth, to run over his teeth. His nose is strong, as my grandma would say, but it's also cute, and I lean forward to kiss the tip of it. My hands move up to his eyelids then, closed under my touch, his impressively long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. Moving both hands back at the same time, I hold his face in my hands, just under his ears and then, still with my eyes closed, I kiss him full on the mouth, suddenly hungry with desire.

"Slow it down," he whispers when my tongue brushes over his lower lip. "Or I won't be able to move."

"Sorry. Sorry. It's just... That's like... Doing that. It's incredibly intimate, isn't it?"

"Yes, which is why I don't do it to everyone. But between us? Because we're physically attracted to each other... Yeah, it's pretty full on."

"Think you can make it to the water with me? I need to cool off."

He laughs and gets to his feet, offering his hand. "Sure."

We walk hand in hand along the shoreline, wading through the ankle deep water. We don't talk much, but we don't need to. It's a perfectly happy and serene moment until Blaine suddenly says "I'd see you, if I could. I think I'd give anything to see you."

"I think... I think you do see me," I tell him, swapping our hand holding for an arm about his waist instead. "More than most people, in fact. But I know what you mean."

"A while back, Doctor King, that's the doctor I see every couple of months, he mentioned getting a seeing eye dog, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to fall in love with a puppy and never see its face. Not that I'm comparing you to a puppy, but..."

"I get you."

"But then I do see you, don't I? I feel you beneath my fingertips, I taste you with my tongue, I know the effect you have on my heart... I'd just like a look at your face, I think. You see? I go around in circles about it all."

"I think that's understandable."

"Tell me what it's like for you."

"Being with you?" I think it over. "It's... Different, but thoroughly eye-opening."

"You pick your words."

"Ha!" He nudges me, and it takes a moment for both our laughter to subside. "Sorry. What I meant by that was, when we first met, your being blind was a major issue, because I wasn't used to it. But then it wasn't an issue at all, and I was thinking 'So, he's blind, what of it? Makes no difference.' But it does, doesn't it? It's an unavoidable fact that your disability means a difference to us as a couple and us as individuals. It could make me sad, if I let it, and it does, occasionally. If I think about it... You not being able to see stuff in our future... Like if we got a place together one day... That upsets me, for you. And realistically, if we stay together, it'll mean a lot of extra care on my part. You can't drive, so stuff like grocery shopping, running errands, that'll really be down to me. You'll always need assistance when we go new places. If we settled here, it'd take you a long time to navigate things like the subway. So I'd have to be prepared to support you in all that. I would, though, if you wanted."

"Would you like us to stay together? Honest answer, please, not a load of avoidance."

"Very much so."

I just say it, plain, simply, and then it's out there.

He beams. "Good." And then wraps up me in a strong, tight embrace. "I do too."

"When I list all those differences though, Blaine, I think what I really mean to say is, it does make a massive difference, but I don't care. I'm realizing about your needs more and more, but nothing about it is putting me off. You know what else? I think you do know me better because of your lack of sight. All those nights spent talking on the phone benefited us both. We became more attune to one another, and you're definitely more sensitive to how I'm feeling. You're pretty awesome, you know? And I'm glad I've fallen in love with you."

"I'm quite glad about that, too." We carry on walking, arm in arm, the tide washing nearly up to our knees now. "You been in love before?"

"Nope. My dating life has been a disaster. Every guy I met, I'd cling onto in the hopes that he might be the one, even though I knew from the outset that they weren't. I've had some shitty relationships, some that have lasted longer than others, but nothing that ever felt like this."

"Is that how you know?"

"That this is love? Possibly, but then how do you know?"

"Because I can envision us spending holidays together with our families, curling up by an open fire on a rainy, cold night, vacationing in the sun, buying a house together, getting married, all of that... But I can't envision my life without you in it."

I stop him in his tracks, kissing him lightly. "I'd say then...that this is true love, wouldn't you?"

"Yep." He grins mischievously, then reaches down, scooping water up and splashing me. "And the water fight is on!"