So I'll make this short and sweet. 1. Thank you for everything. I appreciate you ALL! 2. I love you guys, SO MUCH. You are all so sweet! 3. Read and Enjoy. It's for you (and, of course, for my love of all things Klaine). 4. Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Less than three to errybody.

Monday, 11:38 pm

Blaine slid under the covers of his bed, being careful not to wake Ava. He was tired down to his very bones; all he needed was some rest, for god's sake. Also, it didn't help that he was still cold, because sitting outside in the pouring rain was not helpful in raising one's body temperature.

Blaine shivered and closed his eyes, the emotions and thoughts swirling around him like a kaleidoscope of voices.

11:52 pm

An image of Kurt's face flashed across Blaine's mind, forcibly causing Blaine to open his eyes again. A moment later, as Blaine tried to fall back to sleep, he heard Kurt's voice. "I sang for him, but I was singing to you…" Gosh, what did that really mean?

11:53 pm

Fuck. Blaine couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his uncontrolled mind drifted to thoughts of Kurt, of not being able to be with Kurt, of the sadness in Kurt's eyes…

12:23 am

Wow, there were some interesting cracks on the ceiling. Blaine strained to see the cracks through the darkness. Hmm. That one was almost in the shape of a bear….

2:59 am

99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around….

3:45 am

One sheep…two sheep…oh, that one missed the fence. Restart! One sheep…

5:07 am

Alabama…Little Rock? Alaska…Juneau? Arizona…Phoenix, right? Arkansas….

6:16 am

Blaine drank four cups of black coffee. Thirty minutes later he had a shot of espresso.

What a day this would be…

Tuesday, 10:31 pm

Blaine turned on his stomach and sighed. Maybe tonight he would be able to sleep…

But, wait…ah…no….images of Kurt popped into his head. Nope, there would be no sleeping tonight.

4:49 am

Blaine played solitaire for an hour before going on a run to Starbucks. He was in need of some caffeine…

Wednesday, 11:30 pm

"Blaine, honey, aren't you coming to bed?" Ava yawned, wandering into their bedroom.

"No, I think I'll stay up here and read a little…"

3:19 am

Re-reading Harry Potter wasn't the best way to induce sleep, Blaine realized.

5:55 am

Blaine rolled down the stairs. It was highly amusing when he had the idea…though it was not so much anymore…

7:37 am

Blaine went to buy more coffee.

Thursday, 11:44 pm

Night five without sleep…whoopee!

Friday, 9:00 pm

Blaine was going to need a hobby, if this no-sleeping thing was going to work out.

12:28 am

Blaine went on a midnight run in the park.

Saturday, 10:42 pm

"Blaine, are you sick? You look awful…" Ava reached over to feel Blaine's forehead to see if he had a fever.

"No…" muttered Blaine, rolling over on his side. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it onto his face. Maybe suffocation would force him to sleep…

3:10 am

Blaine got out of bed; he was tired of singing to himself. Tying to sleep was useless. He made a cup of coffee and sat down to watch TV.

4:46 am

Crap…he'd have to buy more coffee.

Sunday, 11:24 pm

Okay, tonight. Tonight, Blaine would do everything to sleep. Everything. Because this was killing him. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat…Ava thought he needed to see a doctor.

All he needed was some rest. Blaine needed to turn his brain off for just…one second, and that would be enough.

2:31 am

Blaine put socks on. He crawled back into bed and rolled onto his stomach.

2:39 am

Blaine got up and took his socks off. They weren't helping him sleep. He wandered into the kitchen and made a cup of (no, not coffee) warm milk (because a certain someone had mentioned it in passing once or twice…) in an attempt to make himself fall asleep.

2:56 am

Ah, this milk thing? No good.

3:27 am

Blaine stared, unblinking, at the light fixture above him. He felt his eyelids begin to droop…yesss. Blaine's breathing began to slow, and he could feel sleep begin to wash over him.

Oh, but wait. What was this? A dream?

A pair of hands, soft yet strong, caressing Blaine's bare chest. A pair of lips, warm and teasing, tickling the delicate skin on the back of his neck. Blaine's hands, threaded through the short cloud of hair that was never supposed to be mussed. A moan of pleasure, vibrating from Blaine's chest. A flash of bright blue, grey, green eyes. Kurt's eyes.

Oh shit.

Blaine woke up and leapt out of bed, his mind reeling. Kurt. He ran out of the bedroom and scrambled up the stairs to his office. In a daze, Blaine lowered himself to his computer and stared at the screen. He could feel something big looming, a wave of answers and relief hovering over his shoulder, waiting to come crashing down. He could do this.

Blaine's Home Office: Monday, 4:45 pm

Blaine stared at the computer screen, his eyes blurring. Since he had run up here, oh, say, thirteen hours ago, he hadn't been able to move.

"I sang for him, but I was singing to you…" Kurt's voice haunted him.

Blaine had replayed those words over and over again his head, trying to remember what Kurt's voice had sounded like when they had last spoken. It had been an entire week. One whole week of no phone calls, no coffee time, no contact whatsoever.

Blaine slumped at his computer, alone in the house. He couldn't remember the last time that he had eaten, and he didn't even care. Everything was a mess—his hair, his clothes, his work, his LIFE, for god's sake—because of Kurt. Blaine sighed and rubbed his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine noticed a cup of tea, lying cold and untouched on his desk. Huh. Ava must have brought it up sometime this morning. He hadn't even realized it…

Blaine's fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant to start typing. He had sat at the computer doing nothing but staring at this same page. He was thinking, yes, but he couldn't actually think until he did this.

Blaine sighed, and clicked on the link. ''French Translation" it read.

Blaine knew that song meant something. It had too. From the way it felt to have Kurt sing it to him, to see Kurt blanch at the mention of the song, to remember how Kurt made a clear distinction about who the song was for; Blaine needed to know what the message was. He had to be sure. Because nothing else, no words could describe, the emotion that Kurt had put into the song. And it wasn't until this morning, when he recognized that it was Kurt that he had been dreaming about, that Blaine had tried to figure this all out.

Because now, now there was a possibility for something.

Slowly, Blaine pressed the 'Translate' button, his heart in his chest. For some reason, some reason Blaine was refusing to acknowledge, it felt as if by pressing this button, his life would change unalterably. Forever.

So Blaine read. He read and read, line by line. He stopped at the end of the song and read the lyrics over again. And again.

Et malgré ça, il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort. And despite this, he still loves me, and me I love you a little more. Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort. But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more.

But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more. Blaine couldn't stop. His mind whirled and it was out of control and he was screaming, screaming for something because no one could hear him. The room was still silent.

And me, I love you a little more.

Oh, Kurt. Each time Blaine thought Kurt's name, his heart raced and something, part of his inherent self, changed. But this time, after reading this again and again, immersing himself in the words, thinking Kurt's name took on a whole other meaning.

Blaine gasped to himself, eyes wide, and cried out. Because, all the fear, all the confusion that Blaine had felt before, was nothing, because finally knowing what those words, what that song, what his relationship with Kurt actually meant, was the end of the uncertainty.

As everything dawned on him, Blaine finally, FINALLY let the walls come down, and the rush of pent up emotions, memories, everything came flooding in.

And when Blaine thought of Kurt, and the fact that Kurt loved him, all he could do was revel in the warm, happy feeling that was spreading through out his body. Because this was something that, as Blaine chose to acknowledge now, he had been waiting for his entire life. Because Blaine…well…Blaine had always known he was gay.

Really, he had known forever, it seemed. But Bliane, well, he had gone through life having everything set up for him. The business was there, the expectations were high, and it had never really occurred to him to not follow through.

Okay, screw that, he had always questioned how he acted toward other people, but it had never been an OPTION not to follow through.

When Blaine got to Dalton, everything was fresh. He could start anew and no one would know who he was. And it was easy, easier than he thought. He had run from his bullies and he could run from himself as well. He had also run from his family, who he thought would never, ever accept the idea of having a gay son. And for Blaine, he couldn't bear not loving his family or not being loved. Ever. So he stayed at Dalton, and never made that key distinction about which way he swung.

Dalton gave him the tools; the uniform, the dorms, the Warblers; everything was set so that he could fit in, and maybe shine. Just a little. And that was what everyone, EVERYONE had always wanted for Blaine, it seemed. They wanted him to shine and do what he was supposed to do because there was never a doubt in their minds that he wouldn't be what they expected.

And by the time he was a sophomore at Dalton, he just couldn't do it. He didn't have the courage to come out to his friends and ruin everything that he had. And it's not that he didn't think they would accept him; it just seemed…like he wasn't meant to be who he truly was. Not then. No one else expected anything less of him. It was also that he knew Dalton wasn't like the rest of the world; he knew that reality, of his future and of discrimination, would come crashing down on him. And for a scared, 15 year old boy who had been condemned and abused for possibly maybe perhaps not even being an out, proud, gay man, it really was too much to throw away.

He had come to Dalton alone, afraid, and scarred with words and abuse that ran bone deep. So he just didn't address his sexuality, and he was doing fine. Better than fine…so why change anything? Yeah, he was miserable many a time, but god, wasn't that better than being tormented, forever? Than having everyone look at you and be disappointed when their expectations crashed and burned?

Now, Blaine knew it wasn't like that. He knew that people would accept him and they wouldn't stop loving him. But the lingering doubt that he would be hated again remained, and then he met Ava and they became best friends and everyone expected them to get married.

So they did.

Blaine was Good Ol' Dapper Blaine and he followed through on all the expectations of everyone else and he made them happy. Wasn't that enough?

But it was when he met Kurt that he seriously began to question his reasoning. Because it was one thing to be hiding in the closet, having sex dreams about guys (he had dreamed about Kurt, all along) and posting pictures of Zefron on his wall.

But it was entirely another to be honest, honest with himself, and honest with the people he loved. It was entirely something else to be proud and strong and confident, regardless of anyone else's expectations.

Blaine had never, ever met anyone like Kurt before.

But Blaine wasn't unhappy with his life. He just…didn't know that it could get any better. However, simply being with Kurt was like opening a door into an entire universe of possibilities. Every look and every touch sent Blaine reeling; his heart melted whenever Kurt smiled or laughed or whispered in his ear. It was Kurt who made him want to get up in the morning and worry about what clothes to wear; it was Kurt who made him giggle and do things he had never done before and question his entire being.

Blaine was in love with Kurt.

Blaine almost fell off his chair; the realization hit him so hard. He was in love with Kurt and it was nothing, absolutely nothing like anything he had ever imagined. It was the flutter-inducing-knee-weakening-heart-pounding-passionate-I-can't-stop-thinking-about-you love. It was a little frightening; screw that it was fuckin' SCARY how perfectly they fit together.

Dumbfounded, Blaine licked his dry lips. With his face flushed and his hair a mess, he ran down the stairs, grabbed his shoes, and sprinted out the door.

Fuck that whole 'we can't be friends anymore' bullshit. Blaine had been in love with Kurt this entire time; from the moment he saw those beautiful glasz eyes and heard that Angel's voice, Blaine had fallen. He had fallen hard for Kurt Hummel. And because of Kurt, because of who he was and his courage and his ability to be himself, Blaine was no longer afraid.

Well, he was still afraid, but afraid of being in love because it had never, ever happened before. Yeah, he loved Ava, but that was different. Completely different. Blaine had thought what they had was love, but she didn't take his breath away with a single glance. Even if she tried, Blaine knew in his heart that Ava could never measure up to Kurt.

But now, Blaine was no longer afraid to simply be and live to make himself happy. Because after all that secret pining after Neil Patrick Harris in high school, and the sex dreams about other men, the electricity that crackled every time Kurt touched him, the urges to kiss him silly, and everything else that made Blaine sure that he was absolutely 100% gay, he wasn't afraid to embrace it all.

Blaine found himself at Kurt's door, number 38, and he took a deep breath before knocking.

He heard footsteps coming, and it took all his control not to burst out and break down the door, because he, Blaine Anderson, had finally, FINALLY stopped lying to himself. And it felt so good that he could even sing—he could dance, hell he could run up and down the street naked, screaming at the top of his lungs. (well…maybe not that one). So when the door opened, Blaine didn't think twice before going in.

Mercedes' Apartment, Number 38: Monday, 4:45 pm

"Okay, white boy, this needs to stop. NOW."

"Move. You are ruining my concentration." Kurt bent over the tray of sugar cookies and, with the utmost precision, piped a thin line of pink royal icing along the edge of each cookie.

"No." Mercedes grabbed Kurt's arm.

"Damn it, you made me mess up!" Kurt snapped, turning towards his friend. "What is your problem?"

"THIS IS MY PROBLEM!" Mercedes all but shouted. She pushed Kurt into the living room, being careful to step around the boxes and trays that littered the floor.

"What?" muttered Kurt, refusing to make eye contact with Mercedes. She'd better finish her rant because he had a batch of cupcakes in the oven that he needed to take out…

Mercedes smacked her lips and gestured to their living room. It looked like a bakery had exploded. Every surface –table, chair, couch cushion, you name it—was covered in food. Baked goods, to be more specific. Cookies and cupcakes and muffins and pies and turnovers and…ahg! It was sugar overload!

Ever since Monday night, Kurt (the infamous stressbaker) had been baking nonstop. He had bought at least twelve pounds of chocolate during the past week, and it was driving Mercedes INSANE!

No one could even walk in their living room, let alone sit down in it! Mercedes had cleared a little path to the bathroom and to their bedrooms, but this was ridiculous. Every day she took as much as she could carry to work, to the elementary school down the street, and to the homeless shelter a few blocks away, but THAT MADE NO DIFFERENCE! Every night she got back, wham! There would be twice as many Raspberry Streusel bars than before, lined up on the piano bench.

Mercedes felt Kurt try to make a getaway towards the kitchen, and she grabbed his arm once more. "Nuhuh, you're not going anywhere. Kurt, I am staging an intervention here."

Kurt only glared at her and pulled away. He sprinted towards the kitchen and found his oven mitts. These cupcakes were almost done…

"Kurt, talk to me! You can't just bake and bake and bake…"

"Yes I can!" replied Kurt stubbornly, attempting to ignore Mercedes.

"No. That won't make this any better. Can you at least tell me what happened?"

Kurt shook his head. A sharp pain cut through his chest at the mere thought of talking about what happened.

Three things happened in the next moment. Mercedes opened her mouth to start a bitch fight, Kurt's cupcake timer rang, and a loud knock was heard on the door.

Kurt instinctively turned towards the oven and opened it quickly. Mmm…lemon. " 'Cedes, can you get the door, I'm in the middle of something…"

"Fine." Mercedes grumbled and walked towards the door, because this damn well better be good. She pulled the door open and gasped. There Blaine stood, looking like he hadn't slept in a week (he actually hadn't), hair sticking straight up, wearing sweatpants, moccasins, and a white t-shirt.

"Wha-?" It was then that, amid all her frustration with Kurt (he could at least TALK to her!) and her realization that Kurt's stressbaking marathon was probably because of Blaine, Mercedes whispered "Come in" to Blaine, grabbed her purse, slipped out into the hall, and closed the door firmly behind her.

"Mercedes, who was that at the do-?" Kurt stopped midsentence at the sight of Blaine.

The wooden spoon Kurt had been holding fell noiselessly to the ground, smearing cream cheese frosting on the carpet.

Kurt's jaw dropped, because he could believe Blaine was here looking like that with a look of pure, unabashed, exposed emotion in his eyes.

Kurt gasped, and reality stopped. Because this, this was like a dream, and Blaine was barreling towards Kurt, in the most inelegant yet adorably heartbreaking way possible, and in an instant they were in each other's arms.

At the first touch their bodies sizzled with electricity, and Blaine's grasp around Kurt's waist became tight and needy and their eyes locked and neither man could breathe. And it was this moment that their hearts had been yearning for, the time where both of them could look at each other, feeling both vulnerable and safe, and knowing that this; this was the result of love at first sight.

When Blaine's lips finally crashed down on Kurt's, the effect was nearly indescribable. Kurt wanted to stop and think and remember every millisecond of this. Kurt applied soft pressure to Blaine's warm mouth, and he sighed into the kiss.

A jolt of something traveled down Blaine's spine and this felt so right. It was the best feeling in the world. Blaine dragged his hands up Kurt's sides, frantically trying to touch every inch of him. God, for the first time, Blaine could act on those urges he'd had since the day they had met.

At the feel of Blaine's fingers caressing the delicate skin of his sides, Kurt melted. He melted and Blaine caught him, deepening the kiss.

Kurt tilted his head tentatively and slid his tongue across Blaine's lower lip. A moan vibrated in the back of Blaine's throat, causing Kurt to whimper in response. This was…Kurt couldn't feel his stomach. He couldn't feel his feel or his legs and he was melting again, melting into Blaine's hold, and there was nothing in the world like this.

And, though neither of them ever wanted to breathe again, Blaine broke away from the kiss.

It was with that kiss, that touch of their lips, that Blaine would never think of anything else but Kurt. Because it was the feel of Kurt's body beneath his fingertips, the smell of the soft skin of Kurt's cheek, the red-hot fire that Kurt's lips sent coursing through his veins that enveloped Blaine. He sank onto the floor, pulling Kurt down with him.

"Oof." Blaine sat on a box of chocolate meringues. He glanced around looking, looking for a place where he could sit.

"In here." Kurt got up and pulled Blaine toward his bedroom, being careful to dodge any baskets of muffins. Kurt crawled onto his bed, pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them.

Blaine slid next to Kurt and just breathed. He breathed in the scent of Kurt, and in the aftermath of their kiss, Blaine breathed to remember how to form a sentence that would not only make sense but convey all this that he was feeling.

Kurt stared at Blaine, unable to stop his eyes from going wide. He could not believe this. Kurt touched his lips with his fingertips, trying to find some indication that this was in fact real. Because that feeling, the feeling that he lost his stomach and that his heart was so full of warmth and elation and butterflies was overwhelming.

Blaine slid his arm around Kurt's shoulders, snuggling his chin into Kurt's collarbone. "Mm…" Blaine breathed, loving the fact that he was fully surrounded by Kurt. Blaine's breath blew across the back of Kurt's neck, but the shivers that it elicited were nothing compared to how Kurt felt when Blaine breathed "I love you," into his ear.

And that was where they stayed, arms and legs tangled, breathing in each other's breath. And, as the minutes and hours ticked by, Blaine held Kurt, and they whispered nonsense into each other's ears, and then Kurt was holding Blaine as he sobbed, and they learned how it felt just being together.

And by the time the sun set in the late summer sky, for the first time in a week, both Blaine and Kurt were fast asleep. As they slept, tightly pressed against one another, all thoughts were abandoned, because they were finally, finally together

:) Here you go. I love Klaine beyond words. (And I love you guys as well!) Hope you liked reading it! Leave a review if you want! Thanks againnnnn.