Glee Fic: Messy
Title: Messy
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Blaine/Kurt
Rating: PG
Warnings: A small amount of angst. Run-on sentences. Overuse of italics. Blaine just has a lot of feelings.
Word Count: A little over 3100
Spoilers: Great big massive huge ones for episode 2.16, "Original Song"
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this. This is still not my bandwagon, but I really do enjoy riding on it with all you guys.
Summary: Blaine wants to be what Kurt needs; he doesn't want to be this pathetic, clingy guy who so desperately needs Kurt.
Author's Notes: Companion piece to Unexpected, because I had to write both sides of this one. You guys, this show is just so good to us sometimes, I can't even.
Blaine's always known that he's kind of a lot to deal with.
He's moody, messy, needy; he gets way, way too excited about things, about people, throwing himself at them until they finally get fed up and shove him back again. It's something he's been trying to tame, the same way he's learned to tame his hair, tone down his clothes, stop bouncing like that, Blaine; it's making me tired just looking at you, but it's hard; people are just so great sometimes, and when he meets someone he really likes, he kind of wants to just wrap himself around them and stay like that forever. He's learned, though, that it doesn't work like that -- that when he comes on so strong, he only winds up pushing people away from him, losing what he wanted so badly to hold on to. So he's been trying, really trying, just to not be so obnoxious all the time. Not to be so much.
He tries harder with Kurt than with anyone else.
Kurt is amazing -- smart and talented and compassionate and stunning and just... just amazing. And he's been through so much -- all the stuff with Karofsky, and his dad being sick, and trying to fit in at Dalton and make new friends and at the same time not lose track of everyone he left behind at McKinley. He's so strong. Blaine has never admired anyone this much. At the same time, he's constantly aware of how much Kurt carries on his shoulders, and terrified of adding himself to that long list of burdens. He wants to be strong for Kurt, to be what Kurt needs; he doesn't want to be this pathetic, clingy guy who so desperately needs Kurt.
Except that he does need Kurt. A lot. Probably too much. And every time he tries to act like he doesn't, it all goes horribly wrong. When he tries to give advice, it blows up in his face. When he tries to just be Kurt's friend, he comes on too strong and winds up leaving Kurt confused. When he panics and pulls back, he goes so far that he loses sight of Kurt, of himself even, and almost ruins their friendship completely. It's all such a mess -- he's such a mess -- and no matter what he tries, it's not enough.
And now they're fighting over solos. Solos.
The thing is, it's not like Kurt is wrong about the Blaine and the Pips thing, because he's not, not at all. It's just that... it isn't even anything that Blaine can control, not really. David's gotten this idea in his head that Blaine is like the official Warblers good-luck charm, and Thad hates change, even if it's positive. Wes is probably just relieved that he doesn't have to worry about Blaine inadvertently overpowering a particularly faint-hearted soloist when he's supposed to be singing backup, or misjudging his steps and knocking his fellow Warblers off the risers (both of which have happened). And everyone else seems like they're pretty content to go along with the council.
Everyone but Kurt, that is.
And that's fine, really. More than fine; it's fantastic. The Warblers need Kurt to challenge their assumptions, fight against their rules, shake them up and bring them back to life. Blaine gets that, he really does. And Kurt is an amazing performer who deserves as much time in the spotlight as he can get. As much as Blaine relishes getting up on stage and just cutting loose, for once not having to worry about whether he's being too much, he would gladly tone it down and sway in the background while Kurt takes his turn in the sun, once or twice or even a thousand times. He really, really would.
But he's just a junior Warbler. The council decides who gets the solos. And right now, they keep deciding on Blaine.
He could refuse, he supposes, but he's not sure he'd really be able to make it stick, not with the rest of the Warblers so determined that he be the one up there. They've done a lot for him, not as much as Kurt has, but still, they've been great. He's not sure he could stand to disappoint them after everything. And if he falters now... He has no idea what Kurt would think of him if he made a token effort and then backed down again, but he's willing to bet it'd be something pretty awful. And, hell, he'd deserve it, just for being that much of a coward.
On the other hand, he has to do something. Because Blaine can already see how it's going to end if things keep going the way they are now. He'll keep failing Kurt, keep falling short, and Kurt will keep getting frustrated, and they'll keep fighting over increasingly stupid things, and sooner or later, Kurt will just... give up on him. And they won't be friends anymore.
And maybe that would be for the best, really. Because it's not like he's doing Kurt any favors. So far, Blaine has managed to get Kurt attacked, break his heart, make out with one of Kurt's best friends and then break her heart, go on an oversharing spree with Kurt's father (which he's still kind of deeply humiliated by), and then top it off by stealing all the solos that Kurt should have gotten. Honestly, as friends go, he's been pretty terrible. Kurt's life would probably be so much better if Blaine just wasn't in it.
But if Kurt wasn't in Blaine's life...
He can't imagine not smiling at Kurt in the hallway, taking his arm in the parking lot, sitting next to him at Warblers rehearsal. Not hearing his laugh or the way he sings or that little sigh he makes when Blaine is being particularly frustrating (and it kind of makes Blaine feel bad, but he also kind of likes it, that little sigh). Not seeing him smile or fix his hair or close his fingers around a cup of coffee; not having him there to lean in close and straighten Blaine's lapels, fix his tie, adjust his scarf in that way he's got, like it's second nature to reach out and give Blaine a hand, like he couldn't imagine doing things any differently. He and Kurt just fit so comfortably together, even if it's not perfect. Losing that would be like... like losing his arm, or something. Losing his voice. Losing everything.
And it's selfish and it's stupid, but Kurt is just so... Blaine just feels so much better about himself now that Kurt's his friend, like he must have done something right at some point because now he's got Kurt, and it's such a privilege just to be around him. He can't give Kurt up. He just... he just can't.
But then he doesn't know what to do, is the thing. He doesn't have any plans left to fall back on.
All he knows is that he has to fix this somehow.
*
It's not like Blaine actually cares about what ties they wear, or what piping is on their jackets.
Kurt kind of does; he actually kind of cares a lot, enough that he's sketched it out and even pulled together some swatches in an attempt to get Blaine on board for the big Warblers Piping Change. Blaine wasn't particularly interested at the time; at the end of the day, they're just accessories, and for all Kurt's passionate and well-reasoned lectures on the importance of proper accessorizing, Blaine just doesn't really get it. Still, it's something. And if he can talk his fellow Warblers into agreeing with this change, small as it is, maybe he can talk them into giving Kurt a solo, too. So he's testing the waters, seeing how far he can push the Warblers on his own, without Kurt there to back him up.
It's not going so well.
Actually, it's pretty terrible (Kangaroo court? Really?), and Blaine's not sure if he should just give up now or try doing something really drastic just to prove his point. Except he can't actually think of anything drastic to do, and he should have known he would fail at this. Failure has, of late, kind of become his thing.
Then Kurt comes in, late and out of uniform, teary-eyed and actually slouching, and Blaine forgets how frustrated he is with himself and with his fellow Warblers, how hidebound and rigid they are sometimes, because Kurt is upset. Kurt is crying. And Blaine kind of wants to rush across the room and wrap him up in his arms, soak up all of Kurt's tears with his shoulder, except that Kurt is obviously still mad at him and it probably wouldn't be very welcome right now. But then Kurt asks for an opportunity to sing, and he perks up a little bit, because if anyone tries to argue that they should concentrate on Regionals right now, he'll --
He still doesn't know what he would do. And it doesn't matter, anyway; everyone just nods, solemn and sad-eyed, allowing Kurt his moment of grief. So Blaine just sits down, tame as ever, and gives Kurt his full attention.
Kurt sings so beautifully. Of course he does; he always does. But more than that -- it's just... It's just Kurt, standing there, so perfectly himself, and more than anything, Blaine wishes he could just do that, inhabit his own skin so effortlessly. If he could just stop trying so hard to be Kurt's mentor, his guide and guardian and friend, and instead just be himself, this awkward, dorky guy with his uncontrollable hair and his uncontrollable feelings, like the way he feels about Kurt and...
Oh.
Oh.
He has feelings. Feelings for Kurt.
It's not like he didn't know, not really. He's always known that Kurt was important, in this way that no one else had ever been before him -- he just didn't exactly know what it was or what it meant. Blaine's never really been in love before -- or he has been in love, because he's kind of been in love with Kurt all along, but he didn't know what it was until just this very moment, so he shoved it away with all the rest of his messy feelings, carefully tamed and toned down into something he thought would be more acceptable. Except now he sees it for what it is, clear and beautiful and bright, like Kurt's voice has gotten tangled up somewhere in Blaine's ribcage, wrapping itself around his heart, and this, this is how it should have been all along. This is who he should have been from the start. Just himself.
Because isn't that what Kurt needs, more than anything? Just someone to be in love with him, even if that someone happens to be a hopeless wreck like Blaine? Someone who will cherish him and care for him and fight for him?
Blaine thinks so. He hopes so.
God he hopes so.
Because if that's not what Kurt's been looking for, then Blaine is about to become the most legendary screw-up in all of Dalton Academy's long and storied history.
*
Getting the Warblers to agree to Blaine's duet proposal turns out to be the easy part. They're rigid and hidebound and kind of incredibly ridiculous at the best of times, but still. They've got ears. All Blaine really has to do is say that he wants to sing with Kurt, and all dissent ceases. There's no way that anyone could argue, really. Kurt has more than earned this.
Picking the song is harder, and Blaine spends hours going through his iTunes playlists before he finally finds a song that works -- emotional, evocative, a song that reminds him of Kurt not necessarily because of the lyrics, but because it sort of breaks his heart and makes him feel better all at the same time, the same way that Kurt always has. When he puts it out there for Kurt's approval, Kurt smiles and says that he's impressed, and Blaine feels his knees get a little bit weak with relief. Two obstacles down. He can do this.
But then he hits the last obstacle, the hardest one of all. Kurt studying him with those wide, clear eyes, asking Blaine why he chose Kurt for this particular solo, and Blaine's heart kind of stops beating a little bit. This is where everything gets messy, and he's not totally sure he can do it.
And he doesn't have to, that's the thing. He could say that he chose Kurt because of his beautiful voice, the power that it has, delicate and pure and true. Or he could say that it was because Kurt opened his eyes, made him realize how much the Warblers had become about him, about Blaine, and that no one else would have the courage to tell him that, let alone stand up on that stage and sing with him. And both those things would be true, kind of, but they're just surface reasons, tame and acceptable. If he said either of those things, he'd be lying -- lying by omission, maybe, but still lying. And if he really is going to be what Kurt needs, that person who loves him more than anything else, he can't lie. Not for a second.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
His eyes are still closed when he breaks and it all just comes tumbling out -- that he's been waiting for Kurt all his life, that Kurt moves him, that he would take any excuse just to spend more time with him. He looks Kurt in the eye when he can, or tries to, but it's hard and he's nervous but it's so important that Kurt knows that he's not just talking -- Blaine means this, really and truly. And he thinks, maybe, that Kurt sees that, but it's hard to say for sure. Mostly, Kurt just watches him with those eyes, his soft hand perfectly still beneath Blaine's sweaty palm. He doesn't say anything, even when Blaine runs out of words.
But as Blaine looks at him, still waiting for a reply, he realizes that Kurt is starting to breathe a little harder, a little faster. Then Kurt smiles, fragile and hesitant, his eyes lighting up with hope or joy or something, and Blaine is moving in to kiss him before he's had the chance to second-guess himself.
It's so much better than Blaine could have ever imagined it would be. Kurt's skin is warm and smooth underneath Blaine's hand, his lips are soft, and when Kurt takes a deep breath in and places one hand on Blaine's cheek, lips parting as he shifts Blaine just enough to make the kiss deeper, Blaine feels all those messy, inconvenient emotions that he's kept bundled up inside for so long starting to grow. Because Kurt is an amazing kisser, but more than that, he's kissing Blaine. Blaine and Kurt are kissing. And it's so much that it's almost too much, that Blaine is honestly wondering if it's possible to die from having too many feelings, because he's frightened that if he feels any more than this he'll just explode.
It's almost a relief when they break apart. Almost.
It's not nearly as good, though, as the moment when they come back together. All those feelings are still there, stronger and better than before, and if Blaine is going to die, he can't think of a better way to go than this.
*
They're still holding hands when they reach Kurt's car, and Blaine knows he should be somber right now -- after all, they just buried one of their fellow Warblers -- but the thing is, he's holding Kurt's hand, and everything Kurt said a few weeks ago about romance and the brushing of fingertips is just so incredibly true, and Blaine just can't stop smiling. Kurt glances at him, eyebrow raised. "And what are you so happy about?" he asks, but it's gentle and teasing and fond.
"You," Blaine says, immediately, and his smile grows even wider, because he can say that now, and it's such a relief to not have to tone everything down the way he did before. "Just you."
Kurt laughs, still gentle and so, so sweet; he reaches up with his free hand and cups Blaine's cheek, and Blaine can't help but lean into the touch. "You're such a dork," Kurt murmurs. "Seriously, I can't believe I thought you were so cool and collected when we first met. Because you, sir, are a mess."
"But you like it," Blaine quips back, and then freezes up, because he's still kind of unsure about this whole thing. He's spent so long trying to be this confident, collected guy, the guy that he thought Kurt needed. What if he was right all along? What if he really is too much for Kurt to put up with? "I mean, you do. Like it. Right?"
Kurt's answer, when it comes, doesn't come with any words attached. His lips press against Blaine's, soft and sweet and absolutely honest, and with Kurt's thumb stroking at his cheekbone, Kurt's other hand still clutched tightly in Blaine's, all Blaine can do is wonder what he did to deserve this, to be lucky enough to have someone like Kurt in his life.
Whatever it was, it must have been amazing.
"You are such a mess," Kurt says again, pulling back just enough to brush his nose against Blaine's, rest their foreheads together. He wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders, and Blaine leans into him gladly, resting his hands on Kurt's waist. "But I think I like you better this way."
"Really?" Blaine asks, letting his hands slip to the small of Kurt's back, pulling him that much closer -- Kurt doesn't resist him, and Blaine's pretty sure that means that Kurt's telling the truth. "Okay. Okay, good."
"And now," Kurt continues, kissing his way across Blaine's cheekbone to press his lips to Blaine's ear, "we just need to do something about this gel addiction of yours. Honestly, Blaine, your hair is like a helmet. You could break rocks with this hair."
Blaine chokes. "But I -- Seriously, you don't know how bad it gets, and I could never... Kurt!"
Kurt's laughter rings out across the deserted parking lot, bright and delighted and clear as bells, and Blaine pulls back a little bit just to admire him, the way his head tilts back, the long, beautiful line of his throat. And he thinks maybe, maybe he can deal with messy hair. Maybe he can deal with messy him, if that's what Kurt wants.
He thinks maybe, just maybe, it is.
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Blaine/Kurt
Rating: PG
Warnings: A small amount of angst. Run-on sentences. Overuse of italics. Blaine just has a lot of feelings.
Word Count: A little over 3100
Spoilers: Great big massive huge ones for episode 2.16, "Original Song"
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this. This is still not my bandwagon, but I really do enjoy riding on it with all you guys.
Summary: Blaine wants to be what Kurt needs; he doesn't want to be this pathetic, clingy guy who so desperately needs Kurt.
Author's Notes: Companion piece to Unexpected, because I had to write both sides of this one. You guys, this show is just so good to us sometimes, I can't even.
Blaine's always known that he's kind of a lot to deal with.
He's moody, messy, needy; he gets way, way too excited about things, about people, throwing himself at them until they finally get fed up and shove him back again. It's something he's been trying to tame, the same way he's learned to tame his hair, tone down his clothes, stop bouncing like that, Blaine; it's making me tired just looking at you, but it's hard; people are just so great sometimes, and when he meets someone he really likes, he kind of wants to just wrap himself around them and stay like that forever. He's learned, though, that it doesn't work like that -- that when he comes on so strong, he only winds up pushing people away from him, losing what he wanted so badly to hold on to. So he's been trying, really trying, just to not be so obnoxious all the time. Not to be so much.
He tries harder with Kurt than with anyone else.
Kurt is amazing -- smart and talented and compassionate and stunning and just... just amazing. And he's been through so much -- all the stuff with Karofsky, and his dad being sick, and trying to fit in at Dalton and make new friends and at the same time not lose track of everyone he left behind at McKinley. He's so strong. Blaine has never admired anyone this much. At the same time, he's constantly aware of how much Kurt carries on his shoulders, and terrified of adding himself to that long list of burdens. He wants to be strong for Kurt, to be what Kurt needs; he doesn't want to be this pathetic, clingy guy who so desperately needs Kurt.
Except that he does need Kurt. A lot. Probably too much. And every time he tries to act like he doesn't, it all goes horribly wrong. When he tries to give advice, it blows up in his face. When he tries to just be Kurt's friend, he comes on too strong and winds up leaving Kurt confused. When he panics and pulls back, he goes so far that he loses sight of Kurt, of himself even, and almost ruins their friendship completely. It's all such a mess -- he's such a mess -- and no matter what he tries, it's not enough.
And now they're fighting over solos. Solos.
The thing is, it's not like Kurt is wrong about the Blaine and the Pips thing, because he's not, not at all. It's just that... it isn't even anything that Blaine can control, not really. David's gotten this idea in his head that Blaine is like the official Warblers good-luck charm, and Thad hates change, even if it's positive. Wes is probably just relieved that he doesn't have to worry about Blaine inadvertently overpowering a particularly faint-hearted soloist when he's supposed to be singing backup, or misjudging his steps and knocking his fellow Warblers off the risers (both of which have happened). And everyone else seems like they're pretty content to go along with the council.
Everyone but Kurt, that is.
And that's fine, really. More than fine; it's fantastic. The Warblers need Kurt to challenge their assumptions, fight against their rules, shake them up and bring them back to life. Blaine gets that, he really does. And Kurt is an amazing performer who deserves as much time in the spotlight as he can get. As much as Blaine relishes getting up on stage and just cutting loose, for once not having to worry about whether he's being too much, he would gladly tone it down and sway in the background while Kurt takes his turn in the sun, once or twice or even a thousand times. He really, really would.
But he's just a junior Warbler. The council decides who gets the solos. And right now, they keep deciding on Blaine.
He could refuse, he supposes, but he's not sure he'd really be able to make it stick, not with the rest of the Warblers so determined that he be the one up there. They've done a lot for him, not as much as Kurt has, but still, they've been great. He's not sure he could stand to disappoint them after everything. And if he falters now... He has no idea what Kurt would think of him if he made a token effort and then backed down again, but he's willing to bet it'd be something pretty awful. And, hell, he'd deserve it, just for being that much of a coward.
On the other hand, he has to do something. Because Blaine can already see how it's going to end if things keep going the way they are now. He'll keep failing Kurt, keep falling short, and Kurt will keep getting frustrated, and they'll keep fighting over increasingly stupid things, and sooner or later, Kurt will just... give up on him. And they won't be friends anymore.
And maybe that would be for the best, really. Because it's not like he's doing Kurt any favors. So far, Blaine has managed to get Kurt attacked, break his heart, make out with one of Kurt's best friends and then break her heart, go on an oversharing spree with Kurt's father (which he's still kind of deeply humiliated by), and then top it off by stealing all the solos that Kurt should have gotten. Honestly, as friends go, he's been pretty terrible. Kurt's life would probably be so much better if Blaine just wasn't in it.
But if Kurt wasn't in Blaine's life...
He can't imagine not smiling at Kurt in the hallway, taking his arm in the parking lot, sitting next to him at Warblers rehearsal. Not hearing his laugh or the way he sings or that little sigh he makes when Blaine is being particularly frustrating (and it kind of makes Blaine feel bad, but he also kind of likes it, that little sigh). Not seeing him smile or fix his hair or close his fingers around a cup of coffee; not having him there to lean in close and straighten Blaine's lapels, fix his tie, adjust his scarf in that way he's got, like it's second nature to reach out and give Blaine a hand, like he couldn't imagine doing things any differently. He and Kurt just fit so comfortably together, even if it's not perfect. Losing that would be like... like losing his arm, or something. Losing his voice. Losing everything.
And it's selfish and it's stupid, but Kurt is just so... Blaine just feels so much better about himself now that Kurt's his friend, like he must have done something right at some point because now he's got Kurt, and it's such a privilege just to be around him. He can't give Kurt up. He just... he just can't.
But then he doesn't know what to do, is the thing. He doesn't have any plans left to fall back on.
All he knows is that he has to fix this somehow.
*
It's not like Blaine actually cares about what ties they wear, or what piping is on their jackets.
Kurt kind of does; he actually kind of cares a lot, enough that he's sketched it out and even pulled together some swatches in an attempt to get Blaine on board for the big Warblers Piping Change. Blaine wasn't particularly interested at the time; at the end of the day, they're just accessories, and for all Kurt's passionate and well-reasoned lectures on the importance of proper accessorizing, Blaine just doesn't really get it. Still, it's something. And if he can talk his fellow Warblers into agreeing with this change, small as it is, maybe he can talk them into giving Kurt a solo, too. So he's testing the waters, seeing how far he can push the Warblers on his own, without Kurt there to back him up.
It's not going so well.
Actually, it's pretty terrible (Kangaroo court? Really?), and Blaine's not sure if he should just give up now or try doing something really drastic just to prove his point. Except he can't actually think of anything drastic to do, and he should have known he would fail at this. Failure has, of late, kind of become his thing.
Then Kurt comes in, late and out of uniform, teary-eyed and actually slouching, and Blaine forgets how frustrated he is with himself and with his fellow Warblers, how hidebound and rigid they are sometimes, because Kurt is upset. Kurt is crying. And Blaine kind of wants to rush across the room and wrap him up in his arms, soak up all of Kurt's tears with his shoulder, except that Kurt is obviously still mad at him and it probably wouldn't be very welcome right now. But then Kurt asks for an opportunity to sing, and he perks up a little bit, because if anyone tries to argue that they should concentrate on Regionals right now, he'll --
He still doesn't know what he would do. And it doesn't matter, anyway; everyone just nods, solemn and sad-eyed, allowing Kurt his moment of grief. So Blaine just sits down, tame as ever, and gives Kurt his full attention.
Kurt sings so beautifully. Of course he does; he always does. But more than that -- it's just... It's just Kurt, standing there, so perfectly himself, and more than anything, Blaine wishes he could just do that, inhabit his own skin so effortlessly. If he could just stop trying so hard to be Kurt's mentor, his guide and guardian and friend, and instead just be himself, this awkward, dorky guy with his uncontrollable hair and his uncontrollable feelings, like the way he feels about Kurt and...
Oh.
Oh.
He has feelings. Feelings for Kurt.
It's not like he didn't know, not really. He's always known that Kurt was important, in this way that no one else had ever been before him -- he just didn't exactly know what it was or what it meant. Blaine's never really been in love before -- or he has been in love, because he's kind of been in love with Kurt all along, but he didn't know what it was until just this very moment, so he shoved it away with all the rest of his messy feelings, carefully tamed and toned down into something he thought would be more acceptable. Except now he sees it for what it is, clear and beautiful and bright, like Kurt's voice has gotten tangled up somewhere in Blaine's ribcage, wrapping itself around his heart, and this, this is how it should have been all along. This is who he should have been from the start. Just himself.
Because isn't that what Kurt needs, more than anything? Just someone to be in love with him, even if that someone happens to be a hopeless wreck like Blaine? Someone who will cherish him and care for him and fight for him?
Blaine thinks so. He hopes so.
God he hopes so.
Because if that's not what Kurt's been looking for, then Blaine is about to become the most legendary screw-up in all of Dalton Academy's long and storied history.
*
Getting the Warblers to agree to Blaine's duet proposal turns out to be the easy part. They're rigid and hidebound and kind of incredibly ridiculous at the best of times, but still. They've got ears. All Blaine really has to do is say that he wants to sing with Kurt, and all dissent ceases. There's no way that anyone could argue, really. Kurt has more than earned this.
Picking the song is harder, and Blaine spends hours going through his iTunes playlists before he finally finds a song that works -- emotional, evocative, a song that reminds him of Kurt not necessarily because of the lyrics, but because it sort of breaks his heart and makes him feel better all at the same time, the same way that Kurt always has. When he puts it out there for Kurt's approval, Kurt smiles and says that he's impressed, and Blaine feels his knees get a little bit weak with relief. Two obstacles down. He can do this.
But then he hits the last obstacle, the hardest one of all. Kurt studying him with those wide, clear eyes, asking Blaine why he chose Kurt for this particular solo, and Blaine's heart kind of stops beating a little bit. This is where everything gets messy, and he's not totally sure he can do it.
And he doesn't have to, that's the thing. He could say that he chose Kurt because of his beautiful voice, the power that it has, delicate and pure and true. Or he could say that it was because Kurt opened his eyes, made him realize how much the Warblers had become about him, about Blaine, and that no one else would have the courage to tell him that, let alone stand up on that stage and sing with him. And both those things would be true, kind of, but they're just surface reasons, tame and acceptable. If he said either of those things, he'd be lying -- lying by omission, maybe, but still lying. And if he really is going to be what Kurt needs, that person who loves him more than anything else, he can't lie. Not for a second.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
His eyes are still closed when he breaks and it all just comes tumbling out -- that he's been waiting for Kurt all his life, that Kurt moves him, that he would take any excuse just to spend more time with him. He looks Kurt in the eye when he can, or tries to, but it's hard and he's nervous but it's so important that Kurt knows that he's not just talking -- Blaine means this, really and truly. And he thinks, maybe, that Kurt sees that, but it's hard to say for sure. Mostly, Kurt just watches him with those eyes, his soft hand perfectly still beneath Blaine's sweaty palm. He doesn't say anything, even when Blaine runs out of words.
But as Blaine looks at him, still waiting for a reply, he realizes that Kurt is starting to breathe a little harder, a little faster. Then Kurt smiles, fragile and hesitant, his eyes lighting up with hope or joy or something, and Blaine is moving in to kiss him before he's had the chance to second-guess himself.
It's so much better than Blaine could have ever imagined it would be. Kurt's skin is warm and smooth underneath Blaine's hand, his lips are soft, and when Kurt takes a deep breath in and places one hand on Blaine's cheek, lips parting as he shifts Blaine just enough to make the kiss deeper, Blaine feels all those messy, inconvenient emotions that he's kept bundled up inside for so long starting to grow. Because Kurt is an amazing kisser, but more than that, he's kissing Blaine. Blaine and Kurt are kissing. And it's so much that it's almost too much, that Blaine is honestly wondering if it's possible to die from having too many feelings, because he's frightened that if he feels any more than this he'll just explode.
It's almost a relief when they break apart. Almost.
It's not nearly as good, though, as the moment when they come back together. All those feelings are still there, stronger and better than before, and if Blaine is going to die, he can't think of a better way to go than this.
*
They're still holding hands when they reach Kurt's car, and Blaine knows he should be somber right now -- after all, they just buried one of their fellow Warblers -- but the thing is, he's holding Kurt's hand, and everything Kurt said a few weeks ago about romance and the brushing of fingertips is just so incredibly true, and Blaine just can't stop smiling. Kurt glances at him, eyebrow raised. "And what are you so happy about?" he asks, but it's gentle and teasing and fond.
"You," Blaine says, immediately, and his smile grows even wider, because he can say that now, and it's such a relief to not have to tone everything down the way he did before. "Just you."
Kurt laughs, still gentle and so, so sweet; he reaches up with his free hand and cups Blaine's cheek, and Blaine can't help but lean into the touch. "You're such a dork," Kurt murmurs. "Seriously, I can't believe I thought you were so cool and collected when we first met. Because you, sir, are a mess."
"But you like it," Blaine quips back, and then freezes up, because he's still kind of unsure about this whole thing. He's spent so long trying to be this confident, collected guy, the guy that he thought Kurt needed. What if he was right all along? What if he really is too much for Kurt to put up with? "I mean, you do. Like it. Right?"
Kurt's answer, when it comes, doesn't come with any words attached. His lips press against Blaine's, soft and sweet and absolutely honest, and with Kurt's thumb stroking at his cheekbone, Kurt's other hand still clutched tightly in Blaine's, all Blaine can do is wonder what he did to deserve this, to be lucky enough to have someone like Kurt in his life.
Whatever it was, it must have been amazing.
"You are such a mess," Kurt says again, pulling back just enough to brush his nose against Blaine's, rest their foreheads together. He wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders, and Blaine leans into him gladly, resting his hands on Kurt's waist. "But I think I like you better this way."
"Really?" Blaine asks, letting his hands slip to the small of Kurt's back, pulling him that much closer -- Kurt doesn't resist him, and Blaine's pretty sure that means that Kurt's telling the truth. "Okay. Okay, good."
"And now," Kurt continues, kissing his way across Blaine's cheekbone to press his lips to Blaine's ear, "we just need to do something about this gel addiction of yours. Honestly, Blaine, your hair is like a helmet. You could break rocks with this hair."
Blaine chokes. "But I -- Seriously, you don't know how bad it gets, and I could never... Kurt!"
Kurt's laughter rings out across the deserted parking lot, bright and delighted and clear as bells, and Blaine pulls back a little bit just to admire him, the way his head tilts back, the long, beautiful line of his throat. And he thinks maybe, maybe he can deal with messy hair. Maybe he can deal with messy him, if that's what Kurt wants.
He thinks maybe, just maybe, it is.